This morning began by unveiling my mobile from its grainy bed for the night.  On my drive down to Manchester yesterday a sheep accompanied by its only-slightly wiser friend decided to cross the road in front of my swiftly moving car and it was just a couple of seconds away from an unthinkable fate.  In the process of braking to dodge it whilst only too aware of the vehicle very close to my rear, I spilt some of my freshly brewed coffee.  The sheep lived to safely graze another day.  It was a while after my white knuckle experience before I realised the coffee had spilt on my phone.  Everything works except I have to put it on speaker to take or make calls.  With my lack of technical aptitude, I'm praying I won't need to get a new one.  The thought of syncing and downloading new apps makes me want to cry.  In phoning myself I also had the heart sinking realisation my answer machine doesn't work.  Ha!

Yesterday was a 3 hour patching session for the live recording demanding silence, focus and nerves of steel.  I've become so well acquainted with my nearby microphone on its steely spindly stand due to its presence all week that I don't notice it anymore, and as we began the intense takes I realised we hadn't actually rehearsed it to death.  With the heightened atmosphere I dropped out of 2 small sections - sometimes it's wiser to do this rather than f**k it up for everyone and I think this is one of the reasons Wagner demanded 6 harps.  Despite being a bit of a megalomaniac I'm sure he had a human side too.  I can tell you which bits I'm going to practice first today!  In the shrinking down process I remembered a technique that helped me play as one with my colleagues - to breathe together and visualise almost becoming them.  Quite a lot of body language can help with this.  It's a technique that has worked well for me in the past especially when the beat is organic and musical and stretchy and even more so when I was sitting in the back row, and when I do it well it can be really draining.  I'm going to practice that this morning.  As I was polishing off my sunny apricot in the break, a million miles away in my thoughts, someone asked how my week was going.  I looked up to see it was Sir Mark.  Caught unawares without a script, I annoyingly found myself coming out with the biggest pile of tripe followed by a succinct statement which I think conveyed exactly how my week is going!  As an outsider it's interesting to see the close rapport and trust between orchestra and conductor.  There is no dress rehearsal.  I observed his manner with us all week and he certainly knows how to get me to want to do more than my best.  He shows respect and empathy, and although he (incredibly, under the circumstances) only very occasionally gets impatient, it's all for the music.  I wish I had his seemingly bionic ears!  He quite rightly treats the singers like royalty cajoling them into taking risks with breathtaking results.  His sensitivity and understanding make me wonder if he trained as a singer, or is he just outstandingly good at his job?  It's pretty awe inspiring to work on this level.

I felt a weight lift off me as I saw the distant hills and I love going to work in hustling bustling Manchester and by the same token, I love getting back home to the tranquillity of my rural idyll. This tropical heat suits me fine and I was amused that it was 7-8 degrees cooler in Meltham.  I planned my evening as I drove past beautiful rhododendron walls, abundant laburnum vines and the vibrant hot sunburst of flaming azaleas.  I didn't see many souls at the top on the moors and the dandelion like cotton wool ball wild shrubs are back.  I wanted to practice but was too tired so I opted for a cup of tea in my yard, phone crisis management, getting supper ready, a gentle walk round the block with YT (Llwyd),  a bit of weeding, and regaining some order in my house.  A rare occurrence - I was in bed before midnight.

Coffee flavoured rice anybody?