Let loose...

Aha mes amis, I write from a beautiful, sunny, France - where I have been let loose for a couple of days in the company of my choir-cohort Tim in an attempt to sort out something sensible for the choir summer tour. And before anybody starts jumping up and down imagining I am actually leading a life of leisure here, I would point out that choir tours are immensely complicated things to organise and Tim most closely resembles Gengis Khan when he is in 'sort-out mode'. So all fun and games it is most certainly NOT.

That having been said, Tim's capacity for sampling the good things which Burgundy has to offer is pretty legendary... les escargots are already running for cover and several vignerons are probably rubbing their hands with glee as news of his arrival hits their credit-crunched French ears.

Me? I am just happy to be here in the sunshine, dipping into the odd bottle of Chablis and taking the mickey out of Tim (aka Shrek) when he gets into his whip cracking stride.

For those interested, some quick updates:
1. The Kittens are fine, growing madly and even Little Shane is skipping around and beginning to look less like a refugee. They have been left in the nagged-into-compliance Hands of Troll for the week I'm in France: he has been given copious instructions on their every need so he should be OK. My pal Tracey is going to keep an eye on him anyway, just in case! I do understand, however, that as soon as my back was turned he and Baby Troll hit the local curry house, where they are both regulars, and thus known and loved. I am pretending I Do Not Know About This...
2. The Henry, vile object that it is, was indeed put in the skip as no communication was forthcoming from Troll on the subject within the deadline. However, the naughty Skip Man didn't turn up in time to take the thing away so the Henry was duly rescued by Troll on his return. We are going to go to Comet when I get back from France so I think things are now on a fairly even keel... we can but hope.

Right... I can hear the wriggling of the Tim as he starts to get his maps, pens, phone, and verbal whip into shape for our sortie into Darkest Nevers today in an attempt to get the Cathedral authorities to understand the thing they most want in the world is for our choir to sing there... more later...