Sops away!

Another day in the studio, and the Pepys Motet is now three-quarters recorded. Only the tenors remain an unknown entity, so I'm keeping my fingers firmly crossed for a smooth Sunday. Fifteen voices down. Five to go.

I hear there's no tube on Sunday, which will, of course, become the next hurdle. You can warn people till you're blue in the face about London travel chaos, but the fact remains that, on a Sunday morning, people will always stay in bed as late as they possibly can! And who can blame them?

The sopranos did well. There were a few hairy moments, but they absolutely excelled in Movement One, which seems to have been everyone else's Achilles Heal, or "athletes foot" as Nathan's Mum once called it!

It seems that each of the movements has particularly or specifically appealed to one of the voice groups. The altos, for example, went a bundle for Movement Five, and every time I heard a snippet of them coming through the desk today they were absolutely note-perfect in that particular movement.

We over ran by half an hour. Not terrible, I suppose, but not quite ideal.

I'm looking forward to getting home tonight, taking my shoes off and closing the door on the world. I may take myself for a run, as I've done very well this week on the health and fitness front, but ate a couple of three chocolate digestives biscuits in the studio. I'm going to become a calorie counting bore, I can sense it in my bones. You might as well stop reading this blog now. It's bound to turn into something like Bridget Jones' diary. Present weight: 29 stones. Calories consumed today: 901,457. General mood: panicky. Thought of the week: I am my own rainbow!