It was a late return home last night after the RetroChic rehearsal.  We were running in a dep drummer, who turned out to be extremely good indeed, but as we have a set that ticks on to about two and a half hours, it was half past eleven before we turned off the monitors and started packing down.

We play tonight in my town of residence, so close to home that I literally could roll home, as my house lives at the bottom of the hill, but I need to trek to London either tonight post-gig or tomorrow at dawn in order to be in place for work on Sunday and Monday.  It also means that I will not be in Oxford for tonight’s Parliament Choir concert, as the visiting chorus master will be on duty, so I will be casting thoughts in their direction through the course of the day.

Out on the small but verdant terrace this morning – now nicknamed The Eden Project by our neighbours – I plucked my first strawberry of the year, and the good news is that it looks as though there are several more to come.  My joy at the discovery of this feast to come was dulled, however, by the realisation that our remaining cat had been up on the kitchen sideboards, something he does depressingly often behind our backs, even if yesterday was the first time he has done so while there have been paint swatches up there…

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J’accuse!

I hope his tongue tastes of non-toxic paint, for, much as I love him, he is definitely a cat who knows what naughty is, but seems totally unable to resist temptation or even curiosity when human back are turned.  Curiosity killed the matt (paint), perhaps?

Thus far today I have been tapping away on various blogs and articles, and will settle down to a little writing later on, but I am keen to take in a breath as well, both this week and next, for things look likely to turn busy over the next few weeks.  As long as I keep reminding myself to stop and eat the strawberries I think I shall be fine.

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