Plans agley as usual.

Having twice changed my routine dental appointment, I'd a call on Monday to say the dentist had phoned in sick, so it's postponed yet again, this time to 10:30 one day next week, which will at least allow me to avoid the throngs of Mummies driving their Range Rovers and Discoveries down the middle of the road.  I'll just have to queue behind them for slots in Fortnums' car park after I've been poked, prodded and scraped.  It's a nice irony that, after squeals of outrage from the good denizens of a hideously expensive private road nearby at the prospect of Lidl being given permission to build, a glance at the car park does more than hint at a change of mind.

We're getting a mix of fine and lousy days, waking some mornings to a dusting of snow.  Yesterday was not bad, so I've filled a bin with hackings back of the penstemons close to the house.  Dealing with the ones by the side path was a bit breezy, but as soon as I was in the lee of the house, working was really quite pleasant, thanks also to the electric pruner Martyn gave me at Christmas.  The weather had stayed dry for just long enough to get the muddy scum on the paving dry and flaking, so an attack with a broom has left the terrace looking a bit more presentable.  Only for last night's prolonged and heavy rain to start the whole damn' process again.

We're sharpening our wits for Friday's quiz evening in aid of the local offices of Citizens' Advice.  I've roped in some of the regulars to form a team, and we'll see if we can improve on last year's showing.  (As if it matters!)  It's a pleasant evening, tepid fish and chips notwithstanding, and all the rounds are mixed general knowledge.  The themed format of the Mayor's quiz is fun too in its way, but there are subject areas in which our elderly team is weak, eg popular music, TV and football.  We haven't won the wooden spoon yet, though.

I've ordered up a new CD of the later Scriabin piano works played by James Kreiling, a regular at the piano bash, En Blanc et Noir.  As James will no doubt be playing some of the pieces in Lagrasse, I'd better try and get a hang of the composer's idiom.  I managed it with Messiaen (albeit 40 years ago), so might be able to crack Scriabin.  (Incidentally, fellow pianist Yshani recently gave James a birthday present of a kitchen pedal bin, with the legend SCRIA emblazoned on the front...)  I grow increasingly fond of this band of sparky young musicians.