Spring must finally be here. When I woke this morning the sun was punching its way through the blinds in my bedroom. I’m in the mood to buy daffodils now. They’re my favourite flower. One Valentine’s day a boy bought me daffodils and I thought it was so sweet that he remembered that I liked them. My friends joked that it was a bit of a low-budget Valentine’s gift. I’d still rather have a handful of daffodils than a dozen red roses.
The last few days of February saw the end of Carry a Poem month. I headed down to the Botanic Garden to hang a poem on the Poetree. My poem is not the one with the picture of the daffodil on it but, ironically, the one with the little pink rose stitched onto the corner.
I also caught two thirds of Kind of Larkin, a poetry and music event at Central Library with readings from Philip Larkin‘s jazz poetry and a live band. Don Paterson was on guitar and John Sessions was the Larkin stand-in. If I thought drinking wine in the reference library was naughty then drinking wine, listening to live jazz and and stamping your feet on the floor in time to the music must be absolutely wicked.
Kind of Larkin made two nights in a row that I saw John Sessions, but the first time was on screen at the Filmhouse where Reichenbach Falls was being shown. Based on a short story by Ian Rankin, the film is a surreal crime thriller with plenty of references thrown in to Edinburgh’s literary past and present. We stepped out of the cinema into pouring rain and got soaked as we dashed through the city. After a drizzly and depressing few days I’m glad the sunshine is here at last.