Summertime, And The Livin' Is Sneezy

I seem to have developed a summer cold, which is probably what happens when you run yourself ragged worrying about not being able to write, but also frankly sucks. Blowing my nose every five seconds, sinuses completely liquid, etc. This is also the third day in a row where I woke up A) unsure of where I was and B) thinking it was the weekend.

So here I sit, going through the file from yesterday while simultaneously listening to a bunch of music by Synaulia, a Netherlandish consort dedicated to reconstructing Ancient Roman music and instrumentation. It's very brass-heavy, but weirdly attractive, particularly when they switch over to songs that rely more on percussion and flutes. And there's some vocals, too, which sound...accurate, I guess, though also a lot more like modern Italian than I thought Latin would. Perhaps to make them more accessible? Hmmm.

(Also equally good, from the same batch: Tracks by Musica Romana and Eluveitie, along with some of Jeff Beals' soundtrack for Rome. The Eluveitie track "Dessumiis Luge" is a real bacchanale, chaotic and wonderfully catchy.)

Yesterday, meanwhile, while running around with Cal from pillar to post (dentist--he has to have two teeth removed next week; music lesson; park; then off to BodyCombat for me), I managed to finished yet another Sarah Rayne book (Tower of Silence). I think I've pretty much figured out her method, which tends towards to Ruth Rendell-esque "intersecting traumas" model, but jacked up to eleventy: "Interlocking batshit", maybe. At any rate, I'm now conditioned so that if a character initially presents as pleasant, ineffectual and trustworthy, I automatically assume they're probably a secret maniac. This usually pans out for me, BTW. Next up: Robert Wiersma's Bedtime Story, which has finally come to trade paperback.

Okay, back to it...