Cushion

A bit of a desperation blip today, I'm afraid. It was desperately cold outside, and I didn't set foot outside the house. In stead, I immersed myself in siome serious music listening. I'd downloaded some high-resolution audio files and was anxious to test them out with the DAC (digital-to-analogue converter) I've had on extended loan from my mate Derek. While I was at it I took the plunge and bought a piece of audio software which gives added value to iTunes by relegating it to a position of music database/organiser, by passes its audio output and uses a superior audio output approach. I'd got the demo version and had tried it for the fifteen days that entitled me to, but baulked at actually buying it. But there was a discount available because it's the developers' fifteenth anniversary, so this was as good a time as any to actually buy it.

I had a whale of a time listening to music, and convincing myself that I'd done the right thing. It's almways difficult when you buy something like this, because you inevitably convince yourself that there really is an improvement. I'm pretty sure this isn't merely a case of a placebo effect in action, since I really, eally enjoyed the extended listening session and was increasingly confident that I was hearing things I'd never heard before.

The blip dates from much earlier in the day when the sun happened to fall onto a corner of one of the cushions in the living room. We're approaching the Winter solstice, the cushion design reminded me a bit of the swirling patterns on the ancient stones at the entrance to Newgrange ... well, to eb fair, that's really all a bit revisionist. I liked the way the sun lit up the pattern on the cushion and I was anxious to get a blip in the can.

At long last I've got round to doing some back-blipping and filling in the desperately unsightly gap which I'd allowed to develop.

First for back-blipping is Friday 3rd December, an old-fashioned Irish wake.
I've also back-blipped the following day: Snowy Glasnevin.