After a week of trad music in Goderich, I'm back to "work" in Stratford: pool exercise in the morning, and the rest of the day spent on preparations for the new choir season. The weather is delightful when it isn't raining stair-rods, but the ragweed is in bloom so I have a more or less constant sinus headache unless I dope myself with Advil and a steroid nasal spray. One day of utter misery was enough to remind me that this regime must be followed religiously.

The cats have caught up on missed lap time and have returned to their pre-Goderich routine: ignoring me unless their dish is empty or they are bored and/or in need of connection. Isobel in particular can be downright infestuous, clambering all over me when I'm doing any sitting-down task, especially at the computer. Watson just occupies the comfy chair like Hitler's army in France, on top of me if necessary.

I have ditched yet another unsatisfactory dish-drainer, this one made of metal that left rust spots on the Wedgwood. Since Rubbermaid seem to have stopped making the bomb-proof plastic-coated wire model that I remember from the '60s and '70s, maybe a towel spread on the drainboard will do for the items that don't go in the dish-washer -- cats' dishes, coffee-filter holder, non-stick omelette pan. But I regret the passing of yet another useful household gadget displaced by fancier versions that do the job less well.