Michael Horovitz being interviewed on the Today programme this morning as I'm shaving. It's 50 years since the famous Albert Hall Poetry event. I pause mid-stroke to hear him recite a poem on football. "Take that, Sepp Blatter" he quips on finishing. John Humphries thanks him. "Michael, Michael" insists Horovitz (Humphries had used 'Anthony' - a symptomatic mistake, perhaps).

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Misha Maisky's recording of the two Shostakovich cello concertos. (Occasionally I see the now white-haired Maisky shopping at the Carrefour down in Waterloo. Rumour has it, Martha Argerich lives nearby, too).

Satie piano works.
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An afternoon reading Djuna Barnes' Nightwood, a book I have meant to read, started & set aside several times over the years. Today it - or rather I - we? - are on the right frequency. Absolutely dazzling. For instance:

"Each husband had wasted away and died; she had been like a squirrel racing a wheel day and night in an endeavour to make them historical; they could not survive it." (p98)

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Tomorrow the intention is to be up at 5 am to participate in a charity walk. E. says she'll come too. I won't hold my breath ...