The aliens are coming

Last night Lorraine had a dream about an alien invasion, only their flying saucers were weighing scales. This is how deeply the diet goes.

Up for kippers then off to take Calliope to the vet, itself a feline version of alien abduction. Whisked away out of all your known territory, to be injected and intimately examined, and returned to the exact spot from where you were abducted, with only a nasty spraying incident in Lorraine's car to register your protest.

After some shopping, I sloped off to the gym. Today Calliope was weighed, and she is 4 kilos and I have lost 4.5 kilos in two weeks, so I have lost a entire blubber cat. Not bad eh?

Then after a futile session of shopping had a long rather mentoring chat with a guy called Steve about life as a copywriter.

Then met the maestro in the Basketmakers for an overdue catch up. I drank soda water and lime, and black coffee, the annoyingly sleek Matt stuck to a pint or two of Seafarers. We were discussing the recording of This concert etc. and discussing what else will be on the CD. The Rainbow Chorus are going to record Found this year too, so the Pollard & Kenny star is in the ascendant. Also discussing a sample Matt sent me of a young singer called Rowan who Matt knows, and may be a possible for the Opera when it's finished.

Home and Lorraine had been doing some work towards her Leadership things, and then cooked us a delightful turkey curry. A restful evening, and Chelsea won today too. All well.

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