Stiff

Ridiculously stiff neck today. I can't look upwards, nor move my head from side to side. Walked about for most of the day as if someone had slid a plank up the back of my shirt. Worked on the Skelton story, which I have now to focus on unwaveringly to get done in time. Weeding out longueurs and generally tightening. Also want to get writing Betty the Spacegirl, as I keep having ideas for that.

In the afternoon sauntered back to Lorraine's house in the sun, where she drove Beth and I to the garden centre and then to Maidenhead Aquatics. Beth bought six harlequin tetras, I confined myself to buying fishfood although was sorely tempted by Congo tetras.

Lurked at Lorraine's chatting with her, and was fed a lovely supper before I slipped home. Listening tonight to some music Fingers Capra gave me... A mad piece by Mosolov called Iron Foundry, and Prokofiev's Symphony No.3. Muscular Russian stuff, and liking the more gentle Andante in Prokofiev. Plus the French born Varèse's piece Arcana. The Mosolov piece actually sounding like a titanic foundry in operation. An education on a CD so it is.

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