Music to my ears

Working on the haemophilia newsletter this morning. Later, while in the gym, I had an interesting, and musical, thought about the new piece while on the Hulk legs machine.

Meanwhile news from Guernsey: Jane and Richard's wedding certificate has gone astray in the Guernsey Post which, quite rightly, Jane is less than impressed with.

Off in the evening to Matt's place in Hove. Helped him move furniture around to make room for the choir. Adam arrived with his marimba too, which looks like a nest of giant's pan pipes and wheely struts before assembly.

Once the music started I felt oddly like Inspector Morse, an onlooker in the corner of Matt's high-ceilinged room with a lump in my throat as I heard the choir rehearsing Clameur. Something thrilling about hearing nine people sing your words, and feeling rather awed by the quality of Matt's music. This is hugely beautiful piece. I am so lucky to be able to work with him.

Once rehearsal was over, I suspect to the relief of Matt's neighbours, Matt and I had a fast pint to discuss many and various business matters. He liked my gym idea too.

Reading a note from Barney on the way home. His ten-year-old boy had enjoyed Invaders of Guernsey. And spotted two typos. Like father like son, as Barney said.

Found Lorraine on my gold sofa when I got home and she was, by sheer coincidence, watching an old Inspector Morse rerun.

Below the plinkmeister Adam, and the choir with the Maestro.