So, I have now dipped a tentative toe into the pond of Melburnean choralia, and I'm yet to find out whether it's full body immersion or I'm to spend my Monday evenings amusing myself. The latter wouldn't be so bad, Monday in the 'Bourne being Half Price Night at the Flicks and all.
I was a wee bit nervous. I'd had to run through the dark and gloomy copses of Carlton Gardens, chased by a horde of megalopossums. Consequently I forgot how to breathe, which made for a bad case of syllabus interruptus. There was also a bit more wobble than is quite decent in a budding chorister. "We'll be in touch", said the jovial conductor. I think this may mean "Have you considered yoga?"
The trauma of all this - the breathing, the possums, the fact (did I mention?) that I left my turquoise scarf on the tram - was enough to turn me to the demon dinner, the tin of Sanitarium Tender Pieces TM that's been sitting in my pantry for two months:
Chunks of gluten in gravy. Not just meat for vegetarians, but dogfood for vegetarians. Why?, you ask. Why, when there are perfectly tasty chickpea and pumpkin curries to be et, why would you so much as contemplate evil-looking faux meat from a tin? I do not know. It won't happen again. But while we're on the subject: vegetarian haggis, in Edinburgh, surprisingly tasty.
P.S. Bill Heffernan is a dill.