I went to the Remembrance Sunday service in the next village. Three parishes have a combined service each year, taking it in turns. I was inclined to duck out, I knew I’d cry when people kindly spoke to me. Spoke to me kindly, that is, and I did. I can’t help it. I want not to and I’m okay much of the time, in company, but of course they’ll speak sympathetically, first time they see me, and I’m just not coping with it. I didn’t stay for coffee afterwards, but slunk out and went home.

They’ve pretty well run out of organists now. Like me, the others have used a year and a half off duty to opt out altogether. Though buglers aren’t thick on the ground anyway, so it’s not so unusual for the Last Post and Reveille to be recorded. Unfortunately, the Reveille was the American version this time, though i don’t suppose younger people knew that.

Some years ago, I was asked to play them for the Remembrance Sunday service. Not on a bugle of course, but the clarinet. I did find the right music, after a bit of a search and I practised and practised. It’s really not easy. You have to go at quite a lick, there’s no scope for easing off. And actually, I did it really well. I was so anxious, but a lot of practice and adrenaline got me through. I had my watch on the music stand so that I’d know when to play after the Silence. One of my better efforts (just as well there were some, I also managed to have quite a few near misses, such as losing count of hymn verses.

I’m turning out the study, a major job. I hope to have it clear by the time my cleaners arrive tomorrow, so that they can clean it apart from the carpet, which I’ll wash afterwards. There’s a tall bookcase which is very useful for files, but it’s right where I want Tim’s music stuff to go, so I’m thinking about it. Two walls are already lined with bookcases, but they’re full of books and there’s a cupboard where I keep paper, envelopes and so on. How on earth do people downsize? I must get rid of some stuff but only to make room for more. I do realise that it’s absolutely necessary to have things orderly, for the sake of my children, and I must make sure they have essential passwords – at least they all know how to get on to my phone, most things are stored there (though now my new phone has face recognition, that’s another hurdle to jump). I’m not sure I actually know my email passwords any more.

Anyway, what gets me is that the phone recognises my face in the dark. This is so weird.