Backtracking: my flight on Friday was somewhat marred by a complete misfunction of the power on two passenger seats: mine & the the adjoining. No music, video ("Enemy Of The State") but most of all, no reading light. And then my passenger spilt their Diet Pepsi over both of us.
20.55 Home! But today has been a day of a camera team nominally filming with Toyah in the garden, in actuality (it's been raining) based in ther house and drviing me mad. Every moment a violation of my personal space & sonic pleroma. Their arrival was signalled by loud knocking at the front door, followed by an ongoing shouted conversation in the hall beneath our bderoom. As a way to awake a jet-lagged gigster at 03.30 on body clock in their home, is more reminiscent of practices on Continental Europe c. 1933-45.
Saturday, Toyah was home when I arrived at 08.05, before leaving to record 4 tv shows at ten. I signed important documents for immediate posting, & collapsed until four in the afternoon.
