We've spent most of this evening editing together clips from the various films I've made over the past ten or so years. We're taking them to Scotland on Friday night. Nathan and I are delivering a lecture at the prestigious Gordonstoun School, which is tucked so far away in the wilds of next-to-nowhere that we have to get there via plane, train and taxi.
Someone from my junior school has posted a class photograph on Facebook. It comes from the fourth year, when we were mostly 10 years old and it's lead to pages of memories about trips, and school songs and kids who could turn their eyelids inside out. I've learned some interesting facts about my former class mates. One of them, for example, is a pro darts player, ranked 50th in the world, which I consider to be really rather impressive. He has a darts player's nick-name and everything! And a page on Wikipedia!
We continue to try and organise everyone's diaries for the cast recording of Brass. It's becoming an absolute nightmare trying to get players and singers to commit to a series of dates. I got so stressed thinking about it earlier that Nathan had to drag me for a walk around the block.
It was freezing outside. We walked down Wood Lane and through Queen's Wood, along the path which looks like something from Narnia. The pavement was covered in a thick layer of brown and orange autumn leaves, which had been rained on, so under lamp light they looked shiny, like tiles of polished brass and copper.
Most of the parked cars we passed were covered in frost, the first frost of the season. Heaven knows how cold it's going to be in Scotland!