Current mood:	pleased
Current music:	Echo and Narcissus (Chris Hutchings) - well, in my head anyway

We are such stuff as dreams are made on (not "of", "on". everybody gets that wrong.)
Very odd dream last night. I was coming back from a choir trip away, and got off the train with some other people, and was in a part of town I didn't recognise. I wandered around for a bit, with the other people having gone their separate ways, , expecting that eventually I'd end up in a part of town that I knew, and after popping into a healthfood shop (but not asking for directions or buying anyhting, just browsing and leaving again) found an area with streets called "Must Street", "Must Not", "Must Try", and, bizarrely:
ROAD LEFT

RIGHT

-------->

and all the street signs were written in Glasgow style (they have a particular font that they use on street signs there, different to the ones in Edinburgh. This is true.) I then saw a school called Iainhill Academy, and realised I had got off the train in Glasgow instead of Edinburgh. (There isn't a part of Glasgow called Iainhill, as far as I know, but I'm glad to note that my subconscious has retained the proper Scottish spelling of Iain.) I then went to the train station, where I met a ticket inspector. After some misreading of phone numbers on lorries that were parked on canal bridges, we found that the place for people going to Edinburgh looked like a car showroom and was right in front of us. I went that way, along with a woman who also wanted to go to Edinburgh. She was rather pretty. As we were leaving, I looked back at the ticket inspector to remember who he was in case we ended up getting married and had to invite him to the wedding. However, she ignored me when I offered to carry either her rucksack or the cup of tea that she was holding in one hand. This made it rather difficult for her to make her way up the rickety iron stairs to the Edinburgh room, as there were lots of people coming down the stairs, but she managed without spilling too much tea. A third person had joined us by this time, he was a bit sweaty and Australian. The room we finally reached contained a doctor, also quite sweaty and unwashed, who sounded fairly well-educated and wanted us to hug him, but claimed he would taste wrong if we did, so we didn't after all. He asked us what we wanted and I started saying something about a general consulation on our emotional welfare, before remembering that he was supposed to help us get to Edinburgh. I was starting to ask him this when I woke up.

Anyway, now that I am awake, I have spent most of the day so far writing out parts for a string orchestra piece that is getting workshopped tomorrow. I've finished the violin parts, and just have the viola, cello and bass to do (should manage it before choir practice tonight hopefully, and then I can have a few pints to celebrate getting that done.) The International School of the Hague, who I had to threaten with legal action last week, have finally paid up and I can now pass this on to the group who did the workshops.

I have just remembered that it is pancake day, thanks to this. I will think about doing pancakes later on.

Need to find a third venue for Okehampton College Band, get a price from George Square Gardens, finalise arrangements for the Disneyland performance, do more about recruiting guides for them (2 applicants so far), and sort out the Florence flights.