The Tyndarids in Fulham

We're on our way to New York! About time, really. I need a few days where I'm not thinking about the motet. I may even feel human by the time we return. My dear friend, Sharon, is getting married over there and I can't wait to see her - not that you can ever expect to see much of a bride on her wedding day! 

We're taking the Tyndarids to their Uncle Gene, who'll be looking after them in Fulham whilst we're away. 

Yesterday I heard the wonderful news that my close friend, Helen, who very bravely moved to Cambridge at the start of the summer has got her dream job as a councillor in one of the colleges there. I'm very proud of her. There are a lot of positive things happening in the world at the moment. I often find that this happens in the autumn.  New school year and all that... 

So if I didn't have to endure a terrifying flight, I'd be very excited right now. What is it with flying? You all sit there in a big metal box pretending that it's not weird to be hurtling above the clouds at hundreds of miles per hour. I don't know what terrifies me more; fear of terrorism or fear of science! Ho hum...

Another short but sweet diary entry for Pepys 350 years ago. It was a Sunday and he spent the afternoon and 'forenoon' at St Olave's whilst Elizabeth and the servants cleaned the mess that the builders had left behind. By the time he'd returned, the place was still a tip. His last sentence, a rhyming couplet, reveals all; "At night went to bed without prayers, my house being every where foul above stairs."