Barry the Gas and the Andrews Sisters

Verily I live a strange life at times. At the moment, Barry the Gas is banging around in the back bedroom, trying to weave various pipes through a maze of joists and strangely random pieces of wood which appear to be holding up something, we know not what. We have to stick around to be available for emergency decisions and making cups of tea, for Barry doesn't take lunch breaks - he just works like a man possessed. (Actually I still think of him as GasBoy, but he's growing in my estimation). And next door, in the study, Mr B and I are practising Robin Orr's Jubilate in C, for a gig in Cumbrae Cathedral on Sunday.

So here's your picture for today. Barry bangs, drills and runs up and downstairs. The new flue spouts interesting gouts of steam. Mr B plays fistfuls of notes on the keyboard and I wail, somewhat discordantly, as I get to grips with enharmonic changes and awkward entries. My preferred métier is music of the Renaissance, so the Orr does not come naturally, but I'm getting there. And his wee anthem They that put their trust in the Lord has a lovely alto part and I've got it sussed.

And now Mr B is playing the Andrews Sisters on his iMac and playing along with them - Chattanooga Choo-choo. That'll be for next session with the other choir. Truly, a varied life. The family that sings together .... (complete this sentence, if you like)