Sunday

I felt quite tired and preoccupied while I was pondering over the fags and coffee. It was very dark and raining when I got up, but it brightened up a little by the time I left for the historic building. I had a really horrible experience before I started playing, and I'll come back to that at some future date once I've got my head around what happened. I played well but our visitors weren't remotely interested in the music.
After shifting all my gear back home I lay down for a rest, but there was no chance of that. The noise from upstairs was appalling, so I started reading Liza Picard's book about London in the middle of the eighteenth century. I love social history.
After dinner I moved all my kit to the pub. It had been quiet there all day. Two people came in and stayed for a while. After they left I spent some time trying to play things that I used to play. I remembered the first section of Schumann's Aufschwung and didn't make a bad fist of it. Afterwards I had another half pint and nattered to the barman. I left early and went to a birthday celebration round the corner, a family event. Then it was home for a bit of cake, half a pint of cider and Laurel and Hardy. Bed at half past eleven.