I realise that I’m making squird

The morning is spent trying to straighten out the living room and (after a quick trip to the supermarket) making carrot and ginger soup. The room will be somewhat less spotless than I hoped it would be, which is a shame, but I do create a large space in the middle of the living room where we can set out chairs and play. This is at the expense of the bedroom, which now resembles a junk shop.

It’s only as I’m about to put the soup into the food processor that I realise that I’m making squird. This is a good sign.

Steve arrives at just after one and Elisa soon after that. We sit and drink coffee and chat and then spend some time working on technique and circulating (including a perhaps-overambitious attempt to circulate C major in three octaves ascending and – critically – descending. It looks like we might not make it for a while, particularly as the smell from the bread machine is beckoning to us. Eventually we do make it, and then look at a bit of thrakking and the Emergent Theme.

Then we stop for a break, squird and bread and the cakes I got from Konditor and Cook yesterday.

After that we go through the repertoire that we (mainly Steve) know, and play through some CDs of crafty music. I think it was a good start. Or beginning.

I bid on an Ovation on eBay before leaving for the Three Stags for the Quintet gig.

The line-up is a bit different tonight, which gives the situation a bit of an edge. And the place is very quiet, too. My playing isn’t quite as wretched as I feared it might have been, I think.

Returning home, I discover that my bid was beaten by fifteen pounds. Chiz.