I did get it all done in the end, but it took all day instead of a couple of hours.
I woke early, as usual, around 5, but I didn’t get up for a couple of hours, although it would have been a very good move. I was going to start on the paperwork first thing, but Mike (not Mike of blogger Ann and Mike, Mike of other friends Ann and Mike) called round, so I made coffee while I emptied and restacked the dishwasher. Then we all went into the sitting room, and Dilly called in with Hay, so I made her tea and cuddled the baby, who looked at me solemnly and then gave his charming, slow smile. He’s sitting up, but still topples once in a while, so safer to sit on the floor with him between one’s knees. Dilly doesn’t think he’ll crawl, Squiffany didn’t, but walked from the start and he likes being held in a standing position.
After they’d gone, I came back to get on with some work. Oh look, emails. But first, music. Oh look, clarinet.
Succumb to a whim and fish out some music and go and play. Laughably awful. And after an hour, a sore inner lip and pink lower outer lip. I looked well-kissed.
I went and replied to emails.
The Sage came home, so I talked to him for a while. No, correction, I gave him a couple of messages and listened to him. Lunch.
I started work. Boring. I played iAssociates. I played Angry Birds. Oh look, several people have played Scrabble and it’s my turn.
I got on with more work. I sent a couple of work-related emails. I answered the phone several times. I got out the clarinet again, this time padding my lip with Rizla papers. I kept going until I could play the first 50 bars of Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto reasonably accurately, if not well.
I had replies to my emails, I added the information and sent another email.
Oh look, time for a drink. And I’ve got more emails. The Sage helped prepare dinner. But not very much, to be honest, I had to trim the sprouts after he left them. “I took them off the stalk” he protested.
He brought me a glass of wine. I showed him my nearly-empty glass. “oh” he said. I assured him I didn’t mind.
After dinner, I turned on the television. Blank screen. Of course, yesterday was the day one had to retune. But how? Read instruction book. ‘Press menu’. Several different menu buttons, no indication which. After quite a long time, I seem to have all channels except BBC2. Don’t want to watch them. Screen looks odd, too close up, faces don’t fit. I think we have to retune again, doesn’t seem worth bothering to get it right now.
Write blog post. Read blogs. Read book. Decide not to play clarinet again tonight, even a single glass of wine plays havoc with twiddly fingerwork. Wonders if pain in thumb is unaccustomed weight of clarinet or arthritis. Decides it doesn’t matter much, it’s only a thumb. Looks at moon. Puts on music. Jazz tonight.