I am waiting for midnight for my local Sunday paper to come online. It’s not happening yet. Sometimes it doesn’t. My ex researcher reckons this is because the editor knows we do this and would much prefer us to have a good nights sleep.

I drove home from the theatre tonight through the back lanes and the Deer Park. The lanes were deserted.  I had one of those rare opportunities to open up the car and let her go.

Every few seconds or so the headlights captured and surprised a Deer or a Badger and dozens of Rabbits. The occasional Owl or Bat flew overhead and on the CD player, at almost full volume, I listened to Ludovico Einaudi playing Divenire and Giorni Dispari.

When I pulled up outside the house I realised I had just relaxed. It took my car at full throttle and Einaudi at full volume. Bliss.