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We threw a decent amount of time at Melody Divined last night in rehearsal with the Malcolm Sargent Festival Choir.  I really do feel that it is very close to the tipping point at which people realise that it is easier than perhaps they think, but we are (just) not quite there yet.  The choir does seem to like it, though, and it is coming into focus, and we have time next week to sort out the various corners before we trip off to Arundel for the weekend.

I have been sending off a couple more scores for submission over the past day or so, and it is a habit I need to cultivate.  Back in the early days I used to write for competitions in quieter moments, and still do, but now that things are busier and my back catalogue is larger, submissions are becoming more and more useful.  The performance of Intersection in New York next month is the result of one of these, and I am awaiting news on three or four more.  It seems to be a sensible way of keeping alive the possibility of picking up new performances and performers, and that is something not to be sniffed at.

After the high drama of Wednesday night, yesterday was quieter and I am hoping that this will calm down a little as time passes.  On a morning like this, as I look out at our garden full of orange, white, red, purple, green, bees, butterflies, birds, cats, this really is not a bad place to be, and I suppose I am fortunate to be in the kind of position where my commute to work takes me up a single flight of stairs or into said garden.

It is a day of writing today, along with a few other domestic duties, such as taking the cats to the V.E.T., always a pleasure, but still that mid-summer feeling of things gently winding down is all around, and that is not a bad feeling to have.