No one ever played or sang anything good before 11am in the morning, so recording sessions don't start till then either. (Please feel free to prove me wrong with examples). Beth's dad Tim had offered to come down to look after Molly while we worked, but we all went up to the studio together - Molly toddling around all the precariously balanced vintage microphones, reaching out to twang Pete's beautiful selection of guitars.
It’s been a ten hour drive so far. Molly’s been amazing and the traffic down the M6 / M5 from Fife has been reasonable. We are 15 minutes away from our destination when - BOOM - our car dies - it literally stops, grinds to a halt at the exit to a major roundabout. With the last few inches of momentum I manage to swerve the car onto the verge out of the way of hurtling lorries and push the hazard lights on. Molly chooses this moment to go for a poo.