The smoke alarm went off again this morning, but as I now know that it is nothing more than an inconvenience, I allowed it to run its course whilst I experienced the glories of hot water. My neighbours did almost certainly not share my enthusiasm. They may also wonder what the funny smell that is emulating from my flat is, and if they were to ask then I would tell them that it is my coat, which absolutely stinks of the fire that I was stood next to yesterday at the rice pounding festival. Or at least I would if I knew the Japanese for it; at the moment the best I could probably manage would be to tell them that my coat was not on fire, in an intransitive sense of course.
This is the view of Mt. Fuji that I see every morning from near my house, minus the setting sun of course.
‘Picasso’ rehearsals continue to go well, and tonight was especially fun. Well it was for me, although poor Gemma, who was sat next to me as we were reading lines, said that she would not be making that mistake again, as I am so loud. She said it as a joke, but I did notice that her hearing was not quite the same for the remainder of the rehearsal.
