Greetings from the late night line-up. . .
Worked through till the wee hours on various amendments, re-writes and tune-ups. And so did Sean Hewitt (not to be confused with Sean Body from Helter Skelter). Sean has been pro-tooling some of the chapters. The last e-mail I got from Sean was timed as being sent at 2.35 a.m. I called it quits not long after as the commas were beginning to dance.
Robert rang last night to chat over some details concerning factual corrections I'd asked him to take a look at. He seems very excited by the new music Crimson are producing and even more excited to be going off to see Tool in the next couple of days.
After we'd finished talking I continued with the food and after that trudged and limped my way unwillingly upstairs to the yellow room. Sitting down at the PC I proceeded to stare at the screen for a good hour. I hate it when I do this and I do do it - a lot. Instead of getting up and doing something different, I sit and stare waiting for inspiration. Instead I just got lots of perspiration. It was very hot yesterday and last night a gorgeous warm breeze drifted lazily through the window.
As Late Junction fizzled out I was about to throw in the towel when the approach to Larks' Four appeared and like a greyhound out of a trap, I was off, up and running. Then the next thing I knew it was gone 1.00 a.m. In the ether e-mails between Sean and I passed each other. He too was up indulging in what he likes to call "Disciplinary Action", nipping and tucking my tenuous grasp on the English language.
A very timely and useful e-mails from Pat Mastelotto arrived to make the job a whole lot easier. When I got to bed I fell straight to sleep.
This morning (and I appreciate this may be more "demystification" than anybody who reads this diary needs or wants) I farted so loudly and explosively that I woke myself up. This clarion call from the depths of my bowels was the good lord's way of letting me know that despite the fact that it was only just gone 5.45 a.m., it was indeed time to get up. Quickly.
Download performed, 15 minutes of back stretches done, tea made, showered and dried, Cats fed, Guinea Pigs changed and fed, the bins put out, Debbie kissed tara, I make my way upstairs in a stiff kind of way to the yellow room and in the wise words of Samuel Beckett, begin again.