Too Many Flutes

I’m feeling quite disturbed this morning. I had one of those dreams that feels too real to be absolutely certain it didn’t happen.

It was 6.06 am and my phone rang.
“Hello, hello,” the voice on the other end said.
“Boris?” I replied.
“Yes, yes,” the voice said back, “you sound surprised.”
“Well, you don’t expect a call from the Prime Minister. Ever. And certainly not on a Sunday morning at 6am.”
“Oh, that. Baby. Awake. Carrie feeding. Lots of crying. You know the sort of thing.”
“I do but why ring me?”
“Yes, yes. Right. The reason for my call. You had a question?”
“Did I?”
“Normal business. Back to business. Normal by Christmas. Orchestras. Christmas Carols. Is it worth carrying on with the arrangement of One More Sleep til Christmas? What are you going to tell the church?”
“Oh that! Well?”
“Research. You know. Waiting for research. Too many flutes.”
Then he put the phone down.

Whether it was real or a dream it wasn’t very helpful. Life can’t get back to normal until we can have our Friday evening rehearsals.