Getting a grip
Taking care of bidness today, admin stuff, plus I wrote and sent off a speculative piece about the woodslick, with photos. Also sent a package of essays, stories and poems to the guys in Guernsey - plus made some progress on my Skeletons story. Also another swim. Still haven't got my all my pep back post virus, but am managing to do fairly sedate half an hour in the pool with few ill effects, but I am child-scaringly overweight at the moment.
Saw Anton and Martin for a cheeky beer in the evening in a pub called the Robin Hood, sitting at an old Masonic table, judging by the carving and iconography. The Robin Hood apparently gives all its profits to charity, which makes it unusual in itself.
Martin stressed by builders. Anton told us about some great news Anna's had. And later, eyeing the self employed Martin and the freelance me, moaning about how he was the only salary slave around. Anton and I then walked uphill and home, talking about The Stranglers Black and White album, which was Anton's life changing album.
I saw the Stranglers live a couple of times with my pal Paddy: once in the Hope and Anchor, and the other time in the Roundhouse both shortly after they had released No More Heroes. This was still the heyday of punk, and sensitive lad that I was, I was horrified to see a wave of spit from the audience caught in the footlights at the Roundhouse, before Hugh Cornwall explained he was going to beat up the next person who gobbed at him (all rather different to the Yes gig I went to in the same week).
In some obscure and self-conscious punkish fashion statement, I was wearing a pair of transparent industrial visors at the time. But I was glad of them.
Taking care of bidness today, admin stuff, plus I wrote and sent off a speculative piece about the woodslick, with photos. Also sent a package of essays, stories and poems to the guys in Guernsey - plus made some progress on my Skeletons story. Also another swim. Still haven't got my all my pep back post virus, but am managing to do fairly sedate half an hour in the pool with few ill effects, but I am child-scaringly overweight at the moment.
Saw Anton and Martin for a cheeky beer in the evening in a pub called the Robin Hood, sitting at an old Masonic table, judging by the carving and iconography. The Robin Hood apparently gives all its profits to charity, which makes it unusual in itself.
Martin stressed by builders. Anton told us about some great news Anna's had. And later, eyeing the self employed Martin and the freelance me, moaning about how he was the only salary slave around. Anton and I then walked uphill and home, talking about The Stranglers Black and White album, which was Anton's life changing album.
I saw the Stranglers live a couple of times with my pal Paddy: once in the Hope and Anchor, and the other time in the Roundhouse both shortly after they had released No More Heroes. This was still the heyday of punk, and sensitive lad that I was, I was horrified to see a wave of spit from the audience caught in the footlights at the Roundhouse, before Hugh Cornwall explained he was going to beat up the next person who gobbed at him (all rather different to the Yes gig I went to in the same week).
In some obscure and self-conscious punkish fashion statement, I was wearing a pair of transparent industrial visors at the time. But I was glad of them.
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