So last night's dream revolved around a flute that I found on a shelf in a case with no lid in a junk store. It was hallmarked, and when I asked the owner of the shop when it was made, he replied "around 1610", which is, as everyone knows, some 75 years before Bach was born. It cost £2000. Not a bad price, but then flutes and woodwind in general do depreciate in value as the years go by, unlike strings. Plus, it's worth pointing out that an entirely silver flute in those days was unheard of, so perhaps the shop-owner was exaggerating slightly.
This was the result of the first decent night's sleep I've had, after a nasty bout of food-poisoning the night before. A bad oyster, we figured, because the assembled throng had shared literally every plate of food. Bad luck, Sundance. Me and the toilet bowl had an extended, if intermittent, series of conversations that long and difficult night.
Meanwhile, my ipod touch is not connecting to the internet. A cursory google-glance reveals I'm not alone. Back to the macstore to get it diagnosed...
