Pondlife rock!

Just back from the first gig of the year – a surprise 50^th birthday party for someone at Gwinear village hall. The tiniest venue ever, with all ten of us on stage, which was brilliant. Chloe back on form after having had her second baby, playing the sweetest of trumpets. Nigel, unexpectedly not in Birmingham, blowing that horn of his to the max. Everyone, pretty much, together and tight. The audience loved it, and we were loving them lovin' it. May not have been the most auspicious of venues, nor the most critical of audiences, but it was a cracking good gig all round.

Apart from at the very end, that is. When Graham decided to have a hissy fit because I, and the other nine members of the band, didn't want to do two encores, preferring instead to finish off with Caspian sea Monster as the final song. Chloe, especially, needed to get back to her hungry breastfeeding babe. He got in a right strop, and took it all out on me – as usual. Real shame, as I was feeling exceedingly loved up until then, and didn't deserve a mouthful of abuse. And in spite of the others pointing out that they were all saying don't play Beat Goes On, apparently I was the one undermining his authority. An apology would be nice. Fat chance. Oh well, at least it was a great gig – I sang, and played well, and really enjoyed the whole evening. Even came home with a surplus box of After Eights; compliments still ringing in my ears.

Other than that, the day was spent shopping, organising kids, and bribing them with tickets to the cinema so that I could get on with some work. Knuckled down to it eventually, after having dealt with various admin tasks, like buying travel insurance, cancelling Lucy's hospital appointment because we're going to be away (besides, her ganglia appears to have settled down now without needing surgery). Also, collecting a microwave , and viewing, but not taking, a free-cycle bike on offer. Really pleased to have typed up the first draft of my MA proposal, which bar minor tweaking, is ready to roll – four days before the actual deadline. Amazing! Means that I can move swiftly onto the other backlog of work to be done, relieved to cross one more thing off the list.

Have a date to take Eddie surfing to the secret spot at 6.30am tomorrow morning, so will quit now, in the unlikely hope that I may get a whole five hours sleep. Actually, I really fancy a cup of tea, and have to check my emails, and send Graham a text, and...collapse.