My friend, the bee

It's been a long and somewhat lonely day, during which I've spoken to absolutely nobody in the flesh, and only left the house to run down to Crouch End to drop the latest draft of Brass through Sara's letter box.

Printing the script out for Sara proved to be an unnecessary nightmare, which involved broken computers, ink running out, repeatedly printing the wrong draft and the general gnashing of teeth!

Still, it got done, and the run up and down the incredibly steep Shepherd's Hill was very good for my general levels of fitness! It's good to be eating sensibly again as well. Food tastes so much nicer when you can see all the ingredients!

It's now raining heavily, and I'm staring out over the Archway Road like the focus of some sort of Edward Hopper painting! The halogen street lights are reflecting on the rainy Tarmac like sheets of highly-polished bronze.

I spend the mornings these days sitting at my kitchen table orchestrating Brass. I have a new friend; an enormous bumble bee who comes to visit and likes to play a little game with me. He flies through the open window, realises he's made a mistake and then gets trapped on his way back out. At this stage, I appear with a glass, the bee climbs inside, and I send him on his merry way. This happened four times yesterday and six times today. He's certainly an inquisitive fella, and I could swear he's no longer frightened of being scooped up by my glass. Mind you, if he's capable of learning through repeated exposure, you'd think he'd learn not to fly into the kitchen in the first place!