In the middle of a few days at home, I am trying to get some writing done and organise my compositional plans for the next few months.  There is a mixture of pieces that need to be written, pieces that might need to be written, and pieces that I might like to write.  They have all formed a rather shapeless jumble in my head, so I sat down yesterday and put all those pieces, whatever their likelihood of coming into being, into a list, jotting down how long it is likely to take me to write them and, more importantly, whether that means I’ll be able to get them done.  I work to a rough estimate of how much material I might be able to write per day, on average, something that can change radically between, say, a work for solo flute and one for full orchestra, but at least it gives me some kind of metric by which I can measure my likelihood of being able to finish a piece by a deadline.  The good news is that there are enough pieces, competitions and submissions to keep me going for a while yet, although so many of the competitions are for writers under the age or forty, thirty or whatever, that I do sometimes wonder whether I am totally past it, but even so there are enough decent opportunities out there to keep me busy.

Other than that, Anghiari is the most significant event on the horizon, and I am tapping out and translating my introductions to the various concerts, dealing with some smaller details to do with the music, and looking forward to the performance of Tu Es Petrus.  With a bit of luck it will not be as meltingly hot as it was in 2015, and thank heavens I still have some Euro left over from a previous jaunt, as I think I would probably need to remortgage something or other to be able to exchange enough for a cup of coffee by this time next week.  Ok, so I exaggerate for effect, but still…

Today I’ll hope for more of what yesterday offered, so a little writing, a little honing of introductions, some good company, a little gaming, and the tiredness of a sleep well earned and a day well spent.