I've put tracks together for an EP planned for the autumn. I've scrapped everything thusfar recorded for the album, and moved into a bigger room at the front of the house, and moved our bedroom into the back. Looks like we are making some progress on securing a more permanent practice room. I did manage to record Diane, and i'm pretty pleased with it. This aside, my current recording constraints coupled with other frustrations have resulted in my contracting RAGE, the infection from the film 28 Days Later, and I want to kill and destroy everything in my path.

Today has been a good day. Didn't even have to use my AK.

Busy times not doing enough recording. Band rehearsals are sounding very exciting; we are only just beginning to tap into the potential. The sound of a solo bedroom recording outfit confidently evolving into a three-piece sonic folk ensemble.

Still haven't been able to pin down a proper rehearsal space to leave all our equipment. You'd think a major city like Bristol would have the facilities, but no. Acres and acres of empty office space and magnolia shoe box Ikea-framed Mark Rothko yuppie flats owned by property parasites and buy-to-rent chancers available now. Exciting Harbourside Development! Very few left!

Spent weeks trying to make my electric guitar sound good. Bought a second guitar, an Epiphone archtop semi, about as far from my Telecaster as you can get. Buying and selling amps and losing money in the process with alarming regularity, still haven't pinned down 'the sound'. Have to mix with turtle-necked weekend blues warriors who know tube amps, unlike us clueless indie kids. Bad music, high end knowledge of vintage amplification technology. Mild mannered accountant by day, Blind Lemon Badass by night. I got da blues Mama... I got a plastic framed Mark Rothko print with the words 'Mark Rothko' along the bottom so I know who the fuck he is. Workin' on the railroad. Workin' in a small accounting firm in Midsomer Norton.