Dawn sand and a jazz hum

Woke before dawn, rubbed my toes in cold sea sand while a scratchy 1920s tune looped in my head — the sort of melody that keeps the day's edges soft. Made a slow pot of tea, left the lemon to sulk on the side, and hummed until my breath found its rhythm.

Yesterday's backdoor basics workshop is still warming my thoughts: a nervous beginner asked that embarrassed question everyone thinks is silly until it isn't, and we spent the evening turning shame into curiosity. Gave careful instructions, laughed at a slipped joke, and finished with tea and a biscuit — if you like learning that feels like being held, bring questions and a willing heart.