On Friday afternoon I spent the afternoon on my parent's couch, warming up and recovering from having my arm sliced by a surfboard fin. It was nice. My parents house has always been home, and I love hanging out with them. Mum made me the cup of tea I'd been waiting for all day - the perfect cure for a helluva shock - and the biggest oat and chocolate cookie you've ever seen. Mum's a great cook, and always has some kind of healthy muesli type cookie ready to offer.

Dad's been in a bit of a mood lately - he's struggling a bit with his mental health I think as his back is giving him a lot of pain and at his age there is not much that can be done about it. Sometimes he gets very quiet and grumpy. But he was happy to sit there and play music - something Dad's always done, as a music lover. I love sitting there listening to Dad play his favourite music of the moment. Today was Amy La Vere, which I haven't heard of before. Dad quite likes his Americana and I can't help but like it to, being forced to listen to it all my life.

For Jamie's birthday, I bought him the new Orbital album. I don't really like it as much as their earlier stuff. There's a few collabs on here too, like this song with Sleaford Mods. I really wanted to get one of the earlier albums we don't have on vinyl, but I couldn't find them for love nor money. Still, he is happy with it. I quite like the relentless post punk sound of Sleaford Mods though.

And the third tune that I was thinking of this week was Coyote by Pete Seeger. I can't recall which one of the Three Tune Tuesday folk included Seeger recently, but it did get me thinking about this song, which I only heard recently as I didn't grow up with him. I've been watching 'North Water', a TV series which is about men going on whaling ships nto the Arctic - it's brutal and violent, and watching the utter slaughter of seals and whales made me despair. We're pretty good, as a specis, in annihilation. But jeez, Seeger tugs the heart strings here.

Coyot', coyote what have they done?
Little brother, where where do you run?
They strychinined the mountain
They strychinined the plain
My little brother, the coyote
Won’t come back again
When you hear him singing
The few that are left
He's warning the human race of his death
Don't poison the mesas don’t poison the sky
Or you won't be back
Little brother, goodbye
There will be no one to listen
And no one to sing and never, and never
Will there be spring
Coyot', coyote what have they done?