Dong Dong Dong

The piano tuner has been this morning, easing the discordant strings into harmony and making music out of noise.
I hovered in the kitchen, trying not to break into my paperback ration (I want it to last!) but after the dishes were washed and the worktops were spotless, I could resist no longer, and broke into a paperback with a guilty snivel.
There are all sorts of songwriting housekeeping things to do but I need a break, and I rose at 3.15 (miraculously, woke at 3.14 just before the alarm went off) to wake Offsprog Two for her Paris trip.
'Can you put this film into my camera?', she asked, dumping an unfamiliar camera and a roll of 35 ml film on my bed. I fumbled in the dark hopelessly before nodding off. She didn't have room for it in her luggage anyway.
It's too hot for my semi-Celtic blood outside, so I shall spend the afternoon re-stringing my classical guitar, and maybe even tinkling the ivories for a minute or two.