8.00 am: A late wake after working into the early morning. (My Bank Holidays are very notional.) On, then, from where I’d left off earlier this morning (Purcell’s The Fairy Queen jaunting along brassily and majestically in the background), filling in databases and websites with updates of research output. (I hate this! Always a low point in the year. But it’s good to take stock in respect to this, as to every department of life, now and again.) I maintained my morale by drinking serial cuppas. (How many units of tea can one safely down in a week?) And so it went on. One day I’ll redeem all my misspent Bank Holidays, and take a whole year off.
12.30 pm: The lion’s share of the challenge was behind me. I don’t want this to bleed into Monday. That’s dedicated to the conference paper alone.
After lunch, I had an hour in which to update my website in line with my CV, as well as all other databases promoting my research. Once the website’s content is complete, and when this present Diary is ended (Estimated Time of Cessation: September 4), I’ll review and reformat the whole site, now that it has been transferred to the new template. During mid-September, when I’ll be living solo while the family are away, my social hours will be dedicated to that project. I watched (out of the corner of my eye) a new video on the work of the abstract turntableist, Maria Chavez. Admirable! (Has she built two cartridges into the tone arm?)
2.30 pm: An afternoon’s respite at an organ recital held in Llanbadarn Church. (This is my stopping-off point on Sunday runs.) The organ isn’t as good as the one at Holy Trinity Church, but it interacts with the interior architecture far better. Where does a church organ end? Is the church a part of the organ, as much as the organ is a part of the church?”
3.20 pm: As the sunlight entered the building, and against the backdrop of the music, I received a sensation of contained excitement fused with a joy that was deep and firm, rather than exuberant. I’d had this feeling before, but couldn’t locate it in my past. The impression was that of an extraordinary fulfilment that had been long-time coming. It was momentary, but no less consoling for that.
5.20 pm: Down tools!