Thrilling Twillings

It's Song Circle tomorrow, and for the first time, I have had no inspiration. Our subject this time has been football, and I have written so many songs about football with kids that I just couldn't take myself away from that scenario. So I am going to cheat and take my uke and play Baked Alaska, which was the last song but one I wrote.

Nadya had her 'I'm a Doctor now' dinner last night at a lovely vegetarian Indian restaurant in Chapel Market in Islington. I gave her a dolls-house grocery set in a little basket, which I thought might come in useful.
Steve Beresford was there, and he mentioned the fact that he was constantly disappointed by not meeting a ladies' ukelele band on a train like the one in Some Like it Hot.
'Aha', I said, The Gluts busked on the climate-change train on the way to Copenhagen, which Gina captured on film to prove it.
He smiled, enigmatically.
We chatted... we talked about concertinas with a woman called Claire who works at the V&A; she was shocked at the price; we talked about accordions and I told them how I'd bought two, thinking I could sell them on eBay and then discovering that they are worth practically nothing, so I paid for some studio time with one and kept the other to maybe fix up some time when I can get to Allodi, the accordion specialists in Hither Green.
We talked about the accordion shop on the Kilburn High Road and I told them about taking the metronome back to Blanks Music Shop (actually run by a Mr Blank, according to Andy Warren from the Monochrome Set, who may have been pulling my leg), because it didn't keep time.
Steve is a Proper Musician and wondered what had been wrong with the metronome.
It was me, Steve: I couldn't keep time, having just learned to play guitar, and Mr Blank and his sons, the Blankets, roared with laughter at me, and I blushed with a terrible shame that is with me to this day.

Last time I saw Steve was at the University of the West. I told him how I thought of my colleagues there, whose replies followed an interesting format.
You know, you pass them in the coffee queue and ask 'How are you doing?'
Steve, the past: 'I played at a really nice venue last night...'
Mykaell Riley, the present: 'I'm working on a big project at the moment...'
Shirley Thompson, the future: 'I'm going to be writing a symphony for....'
Past, present and future.
There must be some sort of psychology there.

And I have noticed I'm teaching a group of students who habitually answer a different question to the one I have asked.
'What's your name?' 'I have written two songs this week'.
'What is your song about?' 'I am using the piano instead of the guitar'.
Odd.

How can you tell it's Sunday night? I'm clearing out the dust from the crevices of my head.....

Martin has made a beautiful book for his Buck Easley music project. He's designed it himself, using his lyrics and my illustrations. We are proof-reading it together, by email. I am really enjoying venturing into illustration again, and I've started designing characters for the Medea comic.

Today, Offsprog One's birthday celebration: chocolate cake and pineapple upside-down cake, relatives bearing Easter Eggs (no grudges).
I had bought her a gigantic black mixing bowl and a silly gingham pinny with a cheery hen on it, amongst other things.

Time to hit snoreland, I think.