Battle weary

Nathan returned from battle this afternoon with an enormous and highly-impressive drawing on his back, which is, apparently, rather painful and needs to be treated with great care for the next week or so. Because it's on his back, the onus is on me to apply the various creams and things necessary to keep the tattoo healthy. And let me tell you... Rubbing cream into a freshly cut tattoo is a slightly bizarre experience. Certainly not one for the faint-hearted.

I spent this morning in Muswell Hill. I was there for ages, in Snappy Snaps, essentially attempting to sift through around 3000 photos from what has turned out to be a rather extraordinary year, which started with a tour of Yorkshire, continued with a visit to the Dominican Republic, and then turned into a whirlwind marriage which became a trip to France and rehearsals for a new musical. I'm intrigued to know where else this year will take me. I'll say now that I'm very much up for new experiences. Life is, after all, about living.

I continue to orchestrate the title song from Brass in every spare moment. It's a lengthy process. It continues to be the most troubled of all the songs I've ever written. I am, however, slowly winning, and believe the piece will be all the better for my diligence. I'm never entirely sure why there are so many "composers" working in musical theatre who opt not to do their own orchestrations. For me, it's the process which brings my writing into colour.

We decided to drive down to Catford to see Julie and Sam this evening, and sat in their front room eating pizza and drinking Ribena. Julie and Nathan did some knitting and we nattered about all kinds of nonsense.

It strikes me that I'm not well. I'm expecting to wake up in the morning with a sore throat, aching limbs or some kind of bizarre rash. The slight change in pace I've experienced over the last few weeks has made my body close down and now it's urging me to slow things down even more. I think I just need to go into hibernation for a bit. If only that were possible!

Whilst walking through Highgate Wood today, I overheard the most peculiar conversation between two men who were walking their dogs. Both were talking about how awful the conditions must have been on Noah's Arc! It was such a peculiar thing to overhear; like one of those passionate theoretical conversations children have when they try to work out whether a lion or a bear would win in a fight. I'm all for empathy, but this was kind of nutty!