So, a Free French rehearsal looms later this evening. The first for a while, with two new members, and the knowledge that since the last rehearsal I've managed to accrue around 300 quid in storage charges. I'd probably be better off slinging it all in a Big Yellow Storage Company lock up, and hiring a limousine every week to transport it to and from the studio. Gah. Tonight we're one man down, in fact one woman, in fact my sister, who cracked her head on the door of a taxi last night, woke up this morning still feeling woozy, has been to hospital to have it checked out and is now back at home, probably bearing some visual similarity to Mr Bump, i.e. blue and covered in bandages. What makes the whole episode worthy of mention is that last night, at about 2am, I woke up with a start, having dreamt that a tree had fallen down on my sister's head. Of course, we all have plenty of dreams that bear no relation to reality, and of course it's a co-incidence, but it doesn't stop you standing for a moment, refilling your pipe and reflecting on the power of the human brain. Although my sister dreamt of me becoming a figure skating champion, and that's not happened today. Yet.