Too much for the scales

I may have mentioned previously that we can hear pretty much everything through the walls of this rented property. I may also have commented on the fact that the neighbours have gone and bought one of their kids what I assume is a clarinet. And that it sounds like an elephant farting in the bathtub.

Well, it's now three weeks later, with 20 minutes practise every day - varying between five pm and ten pm - and I can't say there's a huge amount of improvement. I managed to record this in our bedroom and the only things I have done to it are to remove the odd silences that lead you into a blissful, false "Thank FSM, they've STOPPED!", some of the background noise, like me desperately trying not to snigger, then failing and killing myself laughing, at the end. I think they heard that bit, as they suddenly quit playing fails. Uh, I mean, scales.

You can listen here - but it's not pretty.

Quote of the Day: "There's no way to spell it. Especially not that one - I don't know, it... it just makes me cry. So much pain in my ears." - Himself.