Shattered

I had been full of the best of intentions to get things ready yesterday for my hosting of today's music session, but that didn't happen, and any thoughts of tending to the chores vanished utterly after last last night's chew & chat encounter. So I was up early to face into tidying and cleaning and dusting and hoovering. As it happened, I had everything ready and waiting half an hour before the first of the discerning visitors arrived, and was lazily laid back sipping a G&T when he got here.

We had the largest attendance in a good while, the musical selections were fascinating, and the final thirty-minute slot, which normally consists of one of the members choosing and introducing a single or multiple items, was given over to Paul, up to his eyes finalising a musical thesis, presenting a paper he'd written about Benjamin Britten and art-sogn composition, followed by a performance of one of his song cycles.

We retired afterwards to the local pub, where discussion took both political and musical wing until 6.00 pm or so. I quickly returned home, did some tidying-up and headed across town to Carl's place for rather lovely Thai take-away food, some telly on his gorgeous new flat-screen TV which completes his Freesat package and then a couple of movies in Carl's Kino courtesy of his new projector (Edward Scissorhands -- excellent -- and Igor -- adequate).

A full day.