Salt and vinegar doughnuts

We've just returned from Tesco where I bought myself some salt and vinegar flavoured mini-doughnuts. I kid you not. They sell them. And they're absolutely disgusting. In fairness, they were going out of date and were being flogged off for 30p a bag, so they were probably more stale than they were meant to be. It was like biting into salty plastercine.

I also bought some Wrights Traditional Tar soap, which I discovered almost instantly is the smell of my Grandmother's House. I took one sniff and was instantly transported to her blue bathroom with its fluffy pedestal mats, its curious dusty bottles of perfume and the little dollies sitting on crochet-covered loo rolls. It made me nostalgic and a little sad. Isn't it astonishing how a smell can trigger such a strong reaction?

Today has been all about orchestrating Brass. I finished Shone with the Sun, and got most of the way through the first draft of When You're a Pal. It's hard work. There are nineteen different instruments in the orchestra pit! I basically spent a day wearing headphones listening to my heart beating when I wasn't hearing music. It's a curiously disconcerting experience.

I went for a run around the woods just before lunch, but it became somewhat disastrous when it transpired that my earphones didn't fit properly. They fell out every ten paces which became the most frustrating experience in the world.

I had my first strawberry of the year this evening. It wasn't very nice.