Yesterday was far less dramatic than Tuesday, thank heavens, and I caught up on various nuggets of work here and there, sending off some revisions for the book and also adding in the timpani part to Tu Es Petrus, recasting the full score accordingly. I also snuck in a couple of sessions of work on the Dunstan cantata, getting more rough ideas down.

We also ambled up the High Street to a new cafe that has opened up, and while I must admit that we are probably above capacity in terms of coffee houses for a small town, this one certainly seems likely to succeed. We have the big chain up at the top of town, the family run place that seems more like walking into somebody’s front room than a cafe, the cozy venue that sells knitting paraphernalia, the coffee house in the shopping centre and many others besides, but this one comes with its own bakery, and a proper one at that.

While I enjoy being busy, the travelling and especially the writing, there is something very special about those days when I can get up, tuck my work in before midday and then tinker here and there in the afternoon between one peregrination and the next. A little bit of scribbling in the morning and a couple of sessions in the afternoon is just about right, and all helps to keep the wheels spinning. If I can get up the road for a coffee and poke my head around the doors of a couple of nearby locales then it all feels suitably domestic and comforting.

Today looks likely to bring more of the same, emails, organisation and writing and then a slow and gentle relaxation into the evening’s gaming, wine and something soothing on the iPlayer. Watching something from one of the commercial channels does, however, hammer home how much I detest adverts, and I stick to the view that if a product is truly outstanding then you do not need to come into my front room to shout at me about it. Or knock at my door or cold call me, for that matter.

Still, whoever first thought of advertising – essentially exaggerating how good your product is in order to get somebody to buy it – was a genius, but I keep a mental hit list of brands I will not touch, based on the frequency and shrillness of their histrionics, and the shabbiness of the celebs who turn up for the cash and prizes. Besides, I always like that thing about the advertising guru knowing that fifty percent of their budget was wasted, just not knowing which fifty percent. Turn off those cookies and keep them guessing, I say.

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