Love

We mixed Dreaming of Narcissus today, and sorted out a couple of tracks for Jim to mix; Tom will be emigrating to New York and I want to try out new things. We also did a secret track.
I'm going to put one of the Ross-shire tracks up on Myspace this weekend to replace the Christmas Queen, now it's March.

I didn't do my gig last night; sorry if you went along; I had no voice. I had been crying too much. I can not tell you why.

Today I am happier, and my kindly brain prepared nonsensical memories to entertain itself, something it does frequently; this morning it reminded me that when I was seven, I promised to marry Jonathan Ritchie because he had a policeman suit, and also the Spriggs twins, David and Michael, because they had a fantastic train set with a train that puffed real steam if you put methylated spirit down it's funnel.

I did not marry any of them, especially not all at once, as I had greedily planned.

A three-year-old of my acquaintance decided to marry her grandmother's cat, George, as she was completely in love with him.