all your electrical are belong to us

The Items.

• We have a Yamaha MG12/4 (a popular beat mixing console, m'lud) which, well, mixes stuff - from TiVo, DVD, radio, turntable, keyboard, guitars, mike and iMac; to stereo and again the iMac, the last being linked to the upstairs iTunes jukebox and housing garageband and software for our glacially slow process of vinyl rippage.


• The mixer sits on a little table under the piano.


• We share this house with nine cats.


• We had a power trip on Thursday.


• The mixer, though still possessing its full complement of lights, no longer produces any output; nay, not to its primary or secondary busses, nor to its headphone jack.


• There is a fragrant encrustation upon the mixer, and around the slots where its faders provide entry to its bowels. An encrustation with the fragrance of Bengal.


• We will be in contact with our insurers next week.


• I suspect that a replacement mixer, when it manifests, will end up being mounted on the wall.

That's all.

Meanwhile, I'm off to Sainsburys now, which is nice. Still, we're off to see Jools at Glastonbury Abbey tonight, which might even see our decrepid badger selves engaging is some vague dance-like gyrations.