Ah, the joys of scholarly life: a day (well, half a day) spent in the rare books and manuscripts room at the National Library or Scotland. Once I got going, I really wanted to spend a week, just patiently trawling through material, picking up leads here, spotting quirky tunes there, and slowly building up a cripplingly expensive photocopying order to leave behind. I thought I'd lost the bug for interacting with old pieces of paper, but being back in there I can really see the attractions of that way of life. But for me, never having been a very convincing academic, it has to remain an occasional pleasure. Perhaps if I retire in 30-odd years I'll think of a nice little research project to keep me amused. Today I was having a last minute look at some manuscripts with a view to filling a gap in the 29 November concert, and to giving the proposal for our CD of the Earl of Kelly's music a bit more variety. 

Meanwhile we've got ourselves one more 100% violinist for the 15th, so we're just a viola player short - a short viola player would do. Marie spent yesterday delivering brochures around town in the hope of getting us an audience.  On the train I've been getting somewhere with our application to the Scottish Arts Council for some dosh towards recording The Gentle Shepherd, and Calum rang to say he's just spent some time with Paddy McAloon, and the Prefab Sprout project is back on the rails again. 

After some years of intense secrecy, I've started giving people my mobile number, because last week I got a tiny new phone that vibrates.  I keep the ringer turned off, and pick the call up only if I feel like talking to the person whose name appears on the screen when my trouser pocket vibrates - this has the added advantage of not pissing off an entire train carriage (or the rare books room of the National Library) with some nauseating ring tone every time someone calls.

I'm hoping to fall asleep in bed at some point this week.  So far the tally is: Son's bedroom floor 2, Living room sofa 1, Bed 0.