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Showing posts from 2014

The string game

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Lorraine and I off on a foray to five ways, nearby where we went to a shop and bought a small iron stag's head, which is our new hat stag, and some vegetables. We decided every home needs a hat stag.  Also sorting out the fire alarms for the house too. I did some admin and writing this afternoon.  Toby arrived this evening, and soon was jumping on the bus with Lorraine and I to Hove, and Rosie's new place, while Beth off to a funk and soul night with her pal Amy. A nice party to end the year. Rosie's mum Susan was there, but soon left. Then Emily, Rosie's sister and Tim arrived. Anton was there already, as was Rosie's nice pal from London Alice. Lots of chilli to eat, and cocktails mixed with varying degrees of expertise. Alice initiated a game at one point, where she sat around with string and cut them into varying lengths then hid them around the room, having banished all of us from it. Then we all looked for the string and then compared the length of the s

Cards

Mum's birthday today. I'd given her a CD by Stan Tracey called Under Milk Wood. She used to know Stan Tracey quite well when she worked at Ronnie Scott's. Lorraine and I lay in bed like slackers and then did a spot of gardening in our front garden, in the few minutes this took I managed to hurt my back abominably by lifting up a sack of wet sand. Then we drove with a carful of stuff to the tip. A good feeling to be getting rid of things rather than constantly trying to find room for things. The evening spent enjoyably playing cards with John and Beth. We played euchre and uno, and another not particularly good game called crazy eights where eights are crazy. Great fun sitting about listening to music and sipping the odd Christmas drink, especially for me while playing Euchre, which of course forcibly reminds me of times past. To bed, where my back began to hurt abominably.

Fond farewells and an interlude

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Breakfast this morning. Lorraine and I chatting with Claudia about a range of important subjects, such as prom dresses, and how to structure a written essay.  Then Pat and Maureen and Claudia, all piled into the car and Lorraine drove them off to the station, and I waved them off from the front door. The house felt strangely empty empty till Lorraine returned. I'd enjoyed having Lorraine's folks and my favourite niece come to stay. Afterwards we took ourselves for a walk around the park as the sun was beginning to set this afternoon, and for a bit of exercise. Enjoyed the long winter shadows and the low sun bringing out the colour. Quite nice to have the house to ourselves for an evening. Lorraine and I spent our time  sprawled on the gold sofa, grazing on chocolates, crisps and watching an action movie called The Rock, some entertaining nonsense set in Alcatraz, and starring Sean Connery and a bazillion bullets.

Nice as pie

Lorraine and I had another much needed slow start. Another bad night's sleep for Lorraine. Maureen and Pat up  early, when we eventually got up L and I had a porridge breakfast, which Claudia balked at, preferring chocolate. After much to-ing and fro-ing Claudia off on another shopping expedition in town, while Lorraine, Pat, Maureen and myself out of town to an Argos and a Next, to buy a laundry basket, and a rail for having towels on, not to mention some leeks. I also bought two shirts in a sale. Home again, and I repaired to my study, and caught up with a some of the things I should have been doing in the last few weeks. Thinking about the reading we have in London on the first working Wednesday of the year.  I love my new study. And the speakers Lorraine bought me for Christmas sound beautiful. The day interspersed, naturally, with some grappling with toilet seats, and a spot of violent hammering, and Lorraine also hung hooks on several doors before cooked a marvellous tu

Up to Edgware

Extreme wind all night long. Part of the fence blew down, and the tiles on the roof above our head felt like they were rattling and shifting. As a consequence not too much sleep. Off to London to see Mum and Mas, newly sprung from hospital, and the Tobster, newly arrived from Canada. Lorraine and I set off with a song on our lips at 10:30 but the ghastly M25 was virtually gridlocked, and it added almost two hours to our journey. We arrived at The Toby Carvery, where we had arranged to meet, fairly stiff and limping. Mum had sensibly had a couple of gin and tonics, and Toby a beer. Mason was doing remarkably well considering this was his first full day having been released back into the wild. He said that some people on the ward liked to talk more than others. The Toby Carvery was great value for money, and if you got the special large oval plate you could gorge even more. Toby, gripped by an unnatural appetite, and I opted for this at Mason's prompting. A pleasant meal, apart

Boxing day

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Boxing day, and Lorraine and I tore ourselves from bed reluctantly. Beth up and off on the London leg of her festivities. We had a bit of a slow day, but in the afternoon we drove off with Claudia, Pat and Maureen to Shoreham to a shop called Dunelm Mills where we looked at curtains, and curtain hooks and so on. Outside it was very grey and soon began raining in icy drops. Felt a bit sorry for Claudia as this probably wasn't the most intensely exciting way to spend a boxing day for a twenty year old. Home to eat cold turkey, pickles and bubble and squeak, which was tremendously nice -- and a cheery evening slumped before the TV eating things in best British festive spirit. Below whilst browsing around in the shop, I also amused myself by trying to take photos of Maureen being menaced by a giant squid. A photo I later forwarded on to Betty.

Christmas day

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Our first Christmas day in Osborne Road. Beth the Christmas elf shouting Merry Christmas to everyone this morning, and coming up to Lorraine and my bedroom armed with cups of tea and her stocking, which she opened on the end of our bed. Then up and Lorraine and Beth prepared the turkey. Then a gradual process of getting up and gathered in the front room where presents were exchanged. Santa was kind to me, with gifts including lovely cacti and a new jade plant, wireless speakers for my study, a bottle of bison grass vodka (flavoured by grass urinated on by bison in the Polish forest from Anton). Much skyping this morning, with Derek and Laura in snowy Finland, Toby and Mum, with the Tobster just arrived after being speedily buffeted across the Atlantic. Also telephoned Mason, sadly stuck in hospital today, not in any physical discomfort but cheesing off anyway. After a toast breakfast, a communal vegetable preparing frenzy. Then Pat and I were given permission to have a manly pint

The smell of raw turkey

Up early on Christmas Eve. Lorraine, Beth and I went off to collect the turkey from the Choice Cuts butcher first thing. We were made to educate our noses to the smell of a fresh turkey. Very fresh, but distinct. Told a parable about how certain mother in laws are unable to recognise the smell of fresh turkeys, and reduce daughters-in-law to tears and visions of a spoiled Christmas because of it. Box tied up securely as apparently a turkey was dropped outside the shop once, to great consternation. On return Lorraine and I cooked up a big breakfast for everyone, I was on enjoyable griddle duties, sizzling up lots of newly bought sausages and bacon, while Lorraine scrambled eggs and made toast. Cooking for eight is not something I've done much. It all gets quite industrial in scale. Then fond farewells to Sam and Jade, who were taking off back to London. Lorraine and I drove them to the station. Lovely to see both of them. A sudden tiredness this afternoon and slept for an hour

Many arrivals

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The morning up with the lark, and Claudia, Lorraine and I off to Sainsbury's to spend the equivalent of the economy of Luxembourg on food and drink. Home, and a tidying frenzy in preparation for Sam and Jade's arrival at lunchtime, them having travelled down this morning from Leeds. We all enjoyed a good deal of enjoyable hanging out,  drinking port with Sam and Jade in the kitchen. Beth and Claudia returning from shopping. Great to see Sam and Jade, who both seem to be doing excellently. Jade just had her graduation ceremony for her MA, and is already into her PhD. Sam has embarked on his MA, and is working in a distribution warehouse to top up his money. Sam with elephantine sneezes and nose-blowing, which Jade said someone at the back of their coach had admiringly proclaimed a 'bad man' sneeze. Sam and Jade out for a spot of festive shopping, and a walk by the sea, returning a few hours later with more port. Then Lorraine and I off to Brighton to collect Pat and

Claudia arrives

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Up early, and after a porridge breakfast I bused into town with John, who was setting off back to London. A morning's shopping, but I paused briefly to have five minutes standing by the rough sea. This being the first day I could walk unhobbled for several weeks. Felt very free and happy. Then plunged back into the shopping melee to snap up a few items. Ended up in the M&S food hall, which was very busy, buying chocolate coins, Christmas Pudding, & extremely chocolately muffins. These latter items for Claudia who arrived from Finland today, and is the pebble who starts the Christmas landslide. When I got home, Claudia sleeping off the rigours of the journey. Lorraine and I had a spot of lunch and I slept for an hour, then the devoted the next 10 hours or so moving boxes about, unpacking, dragging things, hammering and so on. Despite Lorraine and I looking in every conceivable place for the last couple of days, the bolts for the double bed in the spare room remain lost, so

Beth is regal, Rosie moves house

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Seagulls scuffling on the roof this morning. L & I up and off shopping in Brighton this morning. Grew somewhat tired and dispirited after a while hobbling about around in town and so had to drink coffee instead. Caught the bus back with Lorraine and we stopped in our nearby butcher and grocer. Here there was a fabulous display of pies. We bought one. Lorraine drove Beth, John and I to Eastbourne this afternoon, where Beth was being Mrs Klaus. A quick glimpse of the burned pier, and then did a bit of shopping with Lorraine as John sensibly repaired to a pub, and Beth got herself ready for the performance. The Hippodrome a nice old theatre, and Beth's pal Sarah has hired it and put on a Christmas show of her own devising, which his selling really well. Beth was very regal and funny Mrs Klaus. She has such sheer wattage as a performer that she grabs attention every time she is on stage. Lots of children in the audience and they all seemed to enjoy themselves, as did the adults

Normalising

Men around today to remove an old half dead sofa, at the crack of dawn. Weirdly, there was no sign of Calliope this morning, She always wakes us up in the morning. I showered, picturing thirteen ways Calliope could have met a grizzly end. She emerged eventually from silent hiding amid the pile of boxes in the living room, but only when Lorraine and I were both in the room calling for her. She was terrified, and scared to go in the kitchen. We suspect the evil ginger and white cat of breaking in and committing some bestial act. I'm able to walk a far better now. A good thing too as I had to slope off to the quack to have my blood purine levels tested. A cheery nurse there extracting the gore. I always like talking to her. Then a haircut as my hair was in Wild Man of Borneo mode (except of course for the dispiriting Area of Concern). None, of course, as bad as these . Also had a large cup of coffee which made me feel very lively. Good to be out and about, then home on the bus. Bet

Wild salmon

Leg improving, thank goodness, although energy levels still lower than an earthworm's posterior. Up early writing things, but my brain not in rapier-like form, being instead buttery and unable to do much. Pottered about in my study and in the house. Pesky broadband not working well either. Beth and John around and cheerfully sorting things out in Beth's room. Sonya came by this afternoon, and we discussed at some length and earnestly if she could fit us in, in our new place. Looks like she will be able to rearrange things. Nice to see her, and she left us some cookies for Christmas and a card, which I found a tad embarrassing as I was empty-handed. Off this evening by taxi to see Janet and Ken. We were twenty minutes early, but we were forgiven. Janet had cooked Alaskan wild salmon (wild? it was furious! etc.) which was rather delicious. Ken rather low physically and spiritually in coming to terms with his daughter's death. My heart went out to my old friend. However we

Song and dance

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Leg noticeably perkier having not used it to hauling things up and down stairs for a day. A boon. Lorraine working from home all day, which was splendid. A long chat with Matty boy, who I'd not caught up with for some time. He, Isy and the bairn are now happily installed in a new home in Brentford. In the afternoon hopped on the bus to meet Helen Russell in Hove for an hour and a half. Enjoyable meeting, and Helen's an interesting person. We sat at the piano and she played me some of the music she had been sketching. It all sounded coherent and often very melodic with a gorgeous 12 tone passage - and she has strong ideas for the piece, an oratorio or opera. Interestingly we seem to be on the same page when it comes to what we have read. She mentioned Heidegger, and Levi-Strauss for example, and we talked at length about mythology, and I showed her how I used mythology in my work, for example in the Minotaur piece. She was also complimentary about the work Matt and I had done

Rejecting rejection

Resting mangled leg in my study, sorting and stacking more books in with the help of an additional bookcase I lifted on top one of the ones added at the weekend. The cats hanging around me, and sitting in boxes when they became available. Feeling really happy about my study. I'm not sure what to call it really. The Study, The Office, The Nervecentre?  I've even found myself calling it My Bedroom a couple of times. Nice to surrounded by my books and a single window with a lovely view - currently mitigated by guano on the glass. Have also been forcing myself to thrown things away, chiefly bits of paper, drafts of useless poems, and most symbolic of all, old rejections that I'd kept from publishers. Forcing myself to wonder why the hell am I treasuring rejection? No longer. Lorraine and Beth out all day and most of the evening, so I spent most of the day on this kind of thing. FaceTimed Mum who, with Mas, are still glum and coldy. Also and spoke briefly to Janet two second

Positivity

We got up early and before breakfast a new van-load boxes and belongings. But before we got up, we watched this video of Jim Carrey, and very much enjoyed this jolt of positivity . This time it was Pete and Pat who had kindly brought the garage-load of stuff. Having worked like ants to clear some space yesterday, this was all filled up again we all brought the absolute bloody final stuff into the house. Pat and Pete drove off back home to Kent, as Maureen had already put the Sunday lunch on, and then we spent the rest of the day getting things straight. Lorraine did a heroic job in the dungeon where lots of our stuff is now stored. A day of hauling things, but enjoyable despite my leg hurting lots by the end of the day. My office is in shape enough to simply get up and do work in it too. Betty back from her rehearsal as Mrs Klaus, which went very well. John arrived this evening too, and we all had roast pork for supper, and a drop of bubbly to celebrate his birthday, which had be

The Force is with her

My wife gripped by The Force this morning. At a count of three we are getting out of bed, she announced early in the morning, and we did.  Once up and breakfasted we enacted the rearrangement of my study, after she and Dawn had discussed it while I was out with Anton. Miraculously, by removing one of my desklegs the office is now how I wanted it, with two bookcases too. Lorraine effortlessly power drilled holes deftly aligning holes and brackets, and I simply had to screw them into the walls. Together we did loads of stuff on the house, much hauling of bookcases and books today and I was able to begin unpacking my hundreds of books, freeing lots of room downstairs. In the afternoon, the human dynamo that is Lorraine even shopped in Brighton in a frenzy. Beth back after teaching this morning, laden with bags of essentials such as large jars.The evening spent with Beth and Lorraine then sorting out Beth's room. Before we all collapsed on the gold sofa, enjoying bowls of chicken a

New connections

More organising and sorting. Trying to protect my leg which hurts in foot and knee. Lorraine came home at lunchtime and we ended up sneaking off for a nap in the afternoon and had a relaxed and happy evening. Spoke to Helen Russell, who is a composer with an idea for an opera who got in touch with me earlier this week after hearing Clameur . She is based in Hove I am going to meet her next week to explore the project more, and hear some of what she's been working on. She's really enthusiastic and working rapidly, so it will be very interesting to meet her. Interesting to make new connections.

A night out with Anton

Another day of taking life comparatively easy, working in my study which seems to be the warmest room in the house, in the company of cats. Out with Anton this evening. I caught the bus into town, and we bumped into each other on the street as I was getting beer tokens out of the cash machine. Then to spend them: off to a couple of pubs, The Seven Stars and The Black Lion. The pubs full of people on awkward office parties. We went to Zizzi's where we were thoughtfully given a romantic table for two. The pizza however marred by an excess of unnecessary mascarpone. Anton full of cheer after his latest trip to the US. He also showed me some photos of Klaudia and Oskar in their school play on a WW1 theme, apparently the bit when the kids sang Silent Night, one half of them in English and the other German was very moving. From there we went to Northern Lights, also known by us as the Twin Peaks bar. Its Lynchian credentials on show tonight with an ineptly run musician's open

Sad news, and getting a grip

Lorraine working from home today, sitting in the kitchen muttering things like 75%, 78%, B2... over our lunch of tomato soup. Catching up after supervising the delivery of our new fridge. It is as tall as me. The freezer is below which means that nothing is stored at ankle level. A boon! A man called Justin installed our dishwasher too.  The house is becoming fully functional. A much needed day of physical recuperation. I lifted no boxes and heavy furniture, nor did I spend the day painting or scraping walls. My bad ankle and knee thanked me for it, as I have done nothing but traumatise them over the last week.  So a day of trying to pick up the threads of my work and writing. Also listened to a reading by Nadine Gordimer of Jose Saramago's short story The Centaur . Catching up with conversations too. Mum feeling better after a seeing a sympathetic doctor, who explained what the very high dose of antibiotics was doing to her and how to manage the side effects for the next coupl

Like a box out of storage

Yet another heavy day of house moving stuff. Off to The Big Box company with Lorraine at eight where we met the Ark removals guys. Lorraine drove me home, and then had to go to work leaving Betty and I to several hours of accepting and directing two and a half trucksful of stuff through the house. The Ark guys Steve and Martin are really likeable and get the job in a way that reduces stress. Spotted them a decent tip at the end, (referred to as 'a drink').   House now looks like a bomb hit it all over again. Betty and I tried to clear spaces of civilisation, and also rebuilt Beth's enormous bed. Beth surprisingly strong at lifting things. Personally I was in need of smelling salts by the evening, and aching. Cats locked up in the bathroom while the movers here. They have a new enemy: a pugnacious looking ginger and white tomcat who sits in the garden like a malevolent garden Buddha waiting to menaces them at the cat door. FaceTime with Mum today, feeling unwell after

Graceful and cheery

Up with the sparrows applying Graceful Green coloured paint. Basically grey with suggestion of green. It does however look elegant, next to white. Grown up is what it is. Then broke off at lunchtime as Beth arrived with Gary in a van, full of her London stuff. This rapidly disgorged, and we'd congratulated each other, on Gary's marriage and our house purchase, Gary drove off and Beth's stuff on the floor in her room. Lorraine working from home this afternoon, so all was cheery, despite this  review of The Nightwork . I understand there are a couple of other reviews forthcoming which may be a bit more favourable. But I'd rather get an indifferent review than none at all. In a very good mood, to The Nelson where I read some of poems in the Stanza Bonanza meeting. A very cheery evening, with lots of good poetry read. I tried a new poem primarily written to be performed callled A poet walks into a bar , which went down quite well, as well as a couple of others from The

Sunday

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A positive lie in. Then Lorraine and I prepping and then painting the first coat of the lounge and dining room which took much of the day. Beth came home for a couple of hours too, and did some painting before travelling up to London to collect the rest of her stuff from her Dad's house. A man also came and dropped three stools outside our door, luckily they were stools we had ordered and could sit on. And after the painting was done we assembled them and were able to sit in the kitchen, cooking, eating and listening to the pretty good Radio 4 series of The Once and Future King . Later I FaceTimed Mum who it transpired had been having a wretched time. Not only had she and Mason have bad colds, but also a few days ago there was a problem with the cat flap which jammed open. Mum was woken at two o'clock in the morning with Felix and a bad cat fighting in her bedroom. She tried to intervene and got deeply scratched in the process. She was given antibiotics but then had to have

Starting from scratch

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Saturday, thank God. Managed a much needed lie in before the cats grew pesky, and I sidled down the Ghormenghastly stairs of New Kenny Towers to the kitchen to appease them and make tea. Then, soon after Lorraine and I were up and at 'em, driving around buying paint and other stuff as well as Trading Boundaries where we bought a throw, golden in colour, which Lorraine has fashioned into a harem-like hanging which now shields the north of Brighton from seeing us clamber into bed of a night. There was also a small exhibition of signed Hipgnosis prints of album covers by the likes of Pink Floyd and Peter Gabriel, including the famous prism cover of Dark Side of the Moon signed by Storm Thorgerson. Then home to spend time filling the holes and scars in the walls and then spent the evening watching a ridiculously stupid film called Battleship, where mighty transforming alien craft take on navy ships or something. Really stupid. We also guiltily ate fish and chips again, rather than

Tidy Friday

All but finished the scraping of the walls. Lorraine home fairly early too, so after she'd finished calls to her colleagues, we had a mammoth clearing up of all the shreds of paper, mopping the floors, hoovering like maniacs till around eight. Then a sense of quiet calm restored to the house, through the simple expedient of tidiness. A pleasant evening spent not scraping or working. Blissful.

A Lewes Interlude

A nippy morning, and hobbling off to Lewes to meet with Robin. Lorraine a little later this morning and gave me a lift to London Road Station. Nice to be out and about, and Lewes is a lovely place. Robin lives in an archetypical Lewes street with a pub at one end and a church at the other, and a castle lurking in the mist somewhere nearby. Really good to see Robin, and chat about poems, poets and also to get her opinion on matters of social media. Walked home from London Road, and after a bit of wall scraping, worked in my office plugging bits of computer together and trying to get organised. Then dissembling half the kitchen, and struggling with plumbing, until we had connected the washing machine. I shall have clean clothes for the ball. Lorraine and I finished off the beanjar, with hunks of chewy brown bread and slumped in front of the TV watching Masterchef. To bed, throat still swollen and sore, foot still relentlessly hobbly.

Inaugural beans

New Kenny Towers a place of industry. I made a Guernsey beanjar, to christen the house with my bean-based aromas. A BT guy arrived to connect our wifi, as three men arrived with our new washing machine, which is now in the dungeon, as Lorraine and I have dubbed the cellar. Later other men delivered was a dishwashing machine, that I thought I might be able to plug right in, but came with a many instructions, regrettably none in English. My throat now very sore and my neck puffy with swollen glands, and foot still hurts, so today's painting, scraping and rebuilding my office a slog. Lorraine doing governor training, but not too late. Beth back for a few hours too, before zooming off to look after Anton's house while he is in the US, and we all snapped down some beanjar. In the evening, the previous owner helped us decode the mystery of the washing machine plumbing. It means we have to take apart a substantial kitchen unit, and pass the outflow pipe from the washing machi

Beetling about

Solitary, but cheerful, painting and scraping for most of the day, listening to loads of podcasts. The day also enlivened by a Rentokil surveyor called Sonny who came by to look at some woodworm holes, something we'd organised before we moved in. I liked Sonny a lot, and we had a cheery conversation about the life cycle of the wood beetle among other things. We need some poisonous fog releasing in the what he called, rather fabulously, the sub floor void. This will exterminate them, though they have not weakened the house structurally. Apparently we only have to be out of the house for an hour or so, as this beetle atrocity happens. Otherwise a day of hard work, not made easier by an ouchy foot. Popped down to a reassuringly middle class organic grocery and butcher where chewy brown bread is readily available. Bought the last one, much to the annoyance of the men behind me who wanted it. Was very tired by the time Lorraine got home, but we did lots more stuff and ate and had

Rolling, scraping & flashing

Lorraine back to work today, with sadness and a heavy heart. I woke up at 5 and lay awake with Calliope pressing her face on me looking down at the north of Brighton as it slept. Up early with Lorraine and I cooked us porridge and Lorraine made off to work and I painted my new office again with rollers of the world’s thinnest white paint. Also applied some testers and am going to have one of the walls a shade called Sophisticated Sage. Entirely apt. Then down to wake Betty sleeping in the front room with a cup of tea, and soon we were scraping the biscuit coloured crinkly wallpaper from the walls, a job we did happily for five or six hours. In fact it is quite addictive, a bit like some kind of video game. Yelping with pleasure when the 'quick win' of a high scoring shred of wallpaper came off. Sadly the walls had some very stubborn patches too. But we enjoyed our time chatting and listening to music, and lunching on miso soup until John arrived in the afternoon and took o

Bold as a biscuit

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Awake and marvelling at the view, seagulls thumping on the roof above us. Our cats looking down on the birds below them with carnivorous longing. We started painting my study today, as being able to get going on my work is a priority. However the crown white paint we bought on offer is dire and watery. The biscuit does not want to be beaten, and shows through sturdily. Then Lorraine and I started an experimental scraping of the bobbly biscuit wallpaper downstairs. Hearteningly some of this came away in big strips, and we'd managed to peel a good 40 percent of it off in an hour. Beth returned this afternoon, and later John arrived. Anton, Klaudia and Oskar dropped by, armed with cards and a bottle of bubbly. Anton going somewhat greenish at the view on the 4th floor, especially when we opened the doors and the children leaned over the rail. The children enjoying going into the walk in wardrobe, and then having the lights turned off on them. Later Rosie came for supper, armed

Happy

Lorraine and I had a poorish night’s sleep being somewhat overtired. The disorientated cats waking us up periodically, with Brian springing up from the side of the bed into Lorraine’s face twice in the night. Can’t remember feeling as happy as I did this morning. Apart from the sheer pleasure of moving in to the house Lorraine and I have bought together, there is the unadulterated joy of knowing that the years of property-related uncertainty, delay and frustration have at last ended. We live here. And Betty is delighted too. After her uncertainty about where she was living, she now knows she has a solid foundation and home to flourish out from. Very tired but skipping about cheerily. A bit of a survey this morning, and prioritising what needs to be done. The bobbly biscuit coloured wallpaper needs to go pronto. The colour scheme in much of the house is of discordant beiges. Other people's colour sense baffles me sometimes. Pat and Peter were due to arrive at lunchtime with a

New House

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Up just after six on the big day, Lorraine Betty and I drinking tea in our last unpacked cups before a final packing frenzy. The two amiable Ark removals guys Martin and Steve arrived to pack the stuff at 8:45. Cats locked into the bathroom, except Brian escaped when one of the movers opened the door, but I managed to snatch him back in the front garden. The van driven off, and we followed in the car. I was last out, with the hoover, after we had conducted a rearguard of rapid cleaning, and dropped Jo’s key through the letterbox. A brisk and unsentimental farewell to Haywards Heath and we drove to our new home in Brighton without incident, other than Calliopes weeing nervously out of the cat carrier. Fortunately away from Betty squished in beside them. Opened up Osborne Road and piled in, cats in the en suite bathroom on the top floor, and the removals guys Steve and Martin rapidly unpacking our skeleton belongings. Feeling elated to be here. Our new home does not disappoint, an

Completion and a new moon

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More packing today, punctuated by calls from the Solicitor and the Estate agent saying the house purchase had completed -- and gleeful texts to Lorraine and Beth. Then a final walk through Hateful Heath off to the station this afternoon, and trained to Preston Park station, alighted from there and wandered off to the Estate Agents and, pausing only to marvel at the convincing nature of the humanoid replicants, signed for the key to our new house at 4:30. Stepped out of their office and as I crossed the road a sudden break in the cloud allowed me to glimpse the new moon. For superstitious reasons I had been trying not to see through glass all week, but had failed to see at all. This unadulterated new moon at such a time, seemed a good omen. A sense of unreality about the walked up  Preston Drove, alongside Preston Park (the other end of the park we lived near before) and paused in the Park View, a nice enough boozer, and availed myself of a pint of beer while waiting for Lorraine. T

The weight of the real

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Final Monday in Haywards Heath. Money successfully wired through to solicitors, discussions with Rentokil about woodworm treatment scheduled for next week with a man called Sunny. Hoovering in preparation for the Estate agent photographer, who when he arrived forced Brian's removal from the scene on more than one occasion. Then into Haywards Heath to buy light-bulbs, interdental sticks, Brussels sprouts and so on. Brought to mind my old friend MSR, shaking his head and sighing about 'the weight of the real'. The glamour quotient presently very low. Fiddling about with the look and feel of Peter Kenny The Writer Ltd. which will be launched on an unsuspecting world at some point after the move. Also swapping emails with Robin about Telltale and we are going to meet up next week once the move is done, and some of the dust has settled. Poking the weird lump between my ribs, which the quack was unconcerned about. It seems larger and more sore when I poke it.  Lorraine advised

A final Sunday

Little today to trouble the legions of my future biographers. Rain falling steadily in Haywards Heath, as the grey Sunday hastened towards nightfall, which was Lorraine's cue to work on her dreary reports. A short trip to a garage to blow air into tyres, and to Sainsbury's local offered vivid interludes of excitement, having spent the day tidying the house, partly in preparation for arrival of a photographer tomorrow who will snap the house so Jo can rent it. I feel a bit graceless wanting to be back in Brighton so fervently. We had great good fortune in Jo offering us this comfortable house to rent. But as I cannot quell the yippees that leak out of me when I think that our last weekend in Haywards Heath is done. In the evening I cooked, after talking to Mum and Mas. Mum had been off to hear a concert, which was recorded for Radio 3, of music by young composers this afternoon.

Pop

Woke up early today, and got up to do a spot of writing for an hour or so before simply going back to bed. Eventually Lorraine and I got up again and attempted to be relentlessly organised and prepared. Not helped by BT Internet, whose widespread malfunction activated unasked for parental controls randomly barring access to sites like the wine society and even a florist - a bizarre problem which apparently affected lots of their customers. To Brighton this evening, we were going to go by train but Lorraine decided to drive. First to Hove to pay, with some difficulty the money that Lorraine owed Sainsbury's petrol station having filled up her tank last week only to discover that her purse was at home. Took them ages to work out how to take the money -- a process which involved phoning people and looking at stuff in blue clip folders. Then a minor accident. Parking in Brighton, close to where we used to live, the tyre caught the unusually high kerb and burst. Alarmed people came

The virtues of white goods

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Woke up feeling quite lively. Finally finished the epic bank form, signed last year's tax things from Andrew, then ambled into Hayward's Heath to post them. Then treating myself to a celebratory cup of Americano in a Caffè Nero as the rain fell outside. Enjoyed a free-ranging think as the Cloud Of Things That Must Be Done momentarily lifted about originality, and jotting a few notes down in my notebook as the cafe filled with pensioners enjoying coffee and snacks. Now we are leaving Hateful Heath I find I'm no longer loathing it. It is perfectly pleasant, as I have said. It's just that it is not home, and it can't be blamed for this. It's just a town without imagination, but I suppose I am spoiled in Brighton. Home again, and working with both cats bookending my keyboard.  Lorraine working from home this afternoon. A quiet night, thinking and discussing the virtues of white goods, as we will need a new fridge freezer, washing machine and dish washer, with Lorr

Betty's birthday

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All action today. Getting broadband and the Royal Mail forwarding organised for our new house. The Royal Mail at least decided to charge me nothing for this as a gesture of goodwill -- having made a hash of the forwarding so far.  Also zoomed off to the bank to schedule the chaps payment to solicitor. I quite liked having hundreds of thousands in my account for a while. Also signing and returning accounts stuff to Andrew. In short, taking care of business. All this done, off to Brighton late this afternoon. I had arranged to meet Beth there for her birthday, from the train. Instead Lorraine drove us there, and came as a surprise. John with Betty too, and we all repaired to a French cafe to drink coffees and have cake (or in Lorraine and my case fig and chocolate bread and butter pudding which was fab). Betty happy to receive an iPad, which for all kinds of complex reasons we had stealthily collected from Pat and Maureen's place last weekend. Then the four of us to The Basketmak

Counting the days

Counting down the days now till I return to Brighton. As Lorraine says, one thing about this little sojourn in Hayward's Heath is to remind us of how much we like living in Brighton. I will miss one of our Haywards Heath neighbours, Gary, who has Down's Syndrome. Most days he straps on his headphones, sparks up his Karaoke machine to sing with unrestrained gusto and volume in the room next to the one I've been working in. I find this immensely cheering, and makes me feel that all's right with the world. It's hard to work out most of the tunes, but his version of Kylie's Can't get you out of my head will live with me for some time. We also hear him at the weekend when we are lazing in bed. When we met him the other week, at the drinks after Jo's wedding, he absolutely loved Jo and followed her around hugging her. Finally got some post today. The new owners of The Old Church Hall sent through an enormous envelope full of stuff, bless 'em. And at las

God speed the day

Feeling a huge relief and delight that we are moving. One day soon my morning list will not require me to do things like filling in a business bank form 30 pages long, nor chase the pathetic Royal Mail about their failure to forward mail. God speed the day. Early this morning, I spent a couple of hours working on another older poem Siamese Fighting Fish  that had never worked, and found that it suddenly snapped into shape. I seem to be on a bit of a roll. Strolled into the main bit of Haywards Heath to buy bread with nice bits of fruit and nut in it from a continental baker, and wrapping paper for Beth's presents in Smiths. This morning ordered a birthday present for Beth for Thursday, paying for express delivery, only to discover this evening that someone else has already bought it for her. D'oh. Lorraine home late, having had a long day, not helped by filling her tank full of petrol and discovering she had forgotten her purse. Luckily it was with Sainsburys and they wer

Exchange at last

Yippee! Exchanged at last and we take possession of New Kenny Towers on 27th of November. Waves of relief as the legal stars finally align. The soul-shriveling years of dealing with solicitors and estate agents and property managers that began with me moving out of the Twitten, renting my house in the Twitten, selling my house in the Twitten, moving into the Old Church Hall, trying and failing to sell the Old Church Hall last year, selling the Old Church Hall this year, moving to Haywards Heath temporarily... the end of all that is arriving in a week and half. Lorraine and I and Betty are moving into the home in Brighton that Lorraine and I have chosen together and have no intentions of leaving. The full joy of this is yet to sink in. There is naturally lots to be done -- and another move to be rapidly arranged, luckily only cats and skeletons from Haywards Heath, then the other stuff stored in Maureen and Pat's garage, and all the stuff we have in storage in Brighton. But all th

To Ashford

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Off with Betty and Lorraine to Ashford today to see Maureen and Pat, as we have things there we needed to collect, but once we were there I decided that one of the items, a fridge, shouldn't be transported on its side in the back of the car. Maureen cooked a particularly nice Sunday lunch which we ate with much enjoyment, despite Lorraine being told off for not putting the vegetables on the plates with enough neatness. Pete was also there, popping in and out and playing tank warfare games upstairs. Luckily he has agreed to drive the stuff we have stored in their garage to our new home, when we get there. Lorraine also advanced the theory that having a footlong beard, Pete's pride and joy, didn't show off his handsome face enough and rolled it up to demonstrate as only an aunt can. After lunch Beth read out the long list of Christmas treats and foods that we had constructed last night to last us over the Christmas period, which we had done last night instead of broodin

Interbrighton

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A mercifully slow start this morning, and Lorraine caught up on some good sleep and I brought us quorn sausage sandwiches and cups of tea in bed with the cats happily lying about with us. Off this afternoon to Brighton. Yay! To return digital TV aerial and see Interstellar , a baggy science fiction romp at the Kommedia. Sure the plot has more holes than a crochet blanket, but it was an exciting spectacle and the emotional bits had Lorraine weeping satisfactorily next to me. I enjoyed it a great deal - a bleakish escapism -- with some incredible visual sequences. The infinite library scene in the end (somebody has read their Jorge Luis Borges) rather splendid. By the time I left the cinema, the headache that I had been nursing this morning had transformed into a full on thumper, and I wanted to get home rather than to The Basketmakers to meet Matt. Lorraine went off to get the car, and I popped into Sainsbury's where Beth caught up with me and we jumped into Lorraine's getaw

Inbetweenness

Day spent waiting for the exchange to happen, phoning solicitors and estate agents and so on.  We're all ready to go, and this afternoon the estate agent told us the vendor is also ready to go. The last lines of Waiting for Godot  are apposite. Vladimir: Well? Shall we go? Estragon: Yes, let's go. They do not move.  I made my final futile call at 5:30 to the solicitor. No exchange made. They do not move.  When I wasn't wandering in this hall of mirrors, I searched for pieces of paper that have the information Andrew needed for my tax return. When I wasn't doing this I was failing to write. All this inbetweenness is rubbish for writing in. So I finished The Fall by Camus which I enjoyed a good deal, in an existentialist kind of way: a bloke in a dark cafe harping on about how terrible life is and what a terrible man he is. In the end it turns out his endless but fascinating monologue has all been addressed to himself, or at least to his double. When Lorraine return

Waiting to exchange

Phoned by the solicitor this morning to say there was a last-minute hold up with exchanging contracts. Eventually no exchange was made. Lorraine and I taking this fairly philosophically. Maybe tomorrow. Told I had to get house insurance for the new place sorted, so spent some time doing this. Feeling a certain amount healthier and so had more energy simply to get on with work, although I can't write anything creative. A nice chat with Mum on FaceTime, which is proving a boon. Took delivery of a new printer, with spiffy wireless connectivity, that Lorraine can print from and so can my laptop. Lorraine discovered that despite us paying for mail forwarding the majority of our mail is being posted to the old church hall. Ended another day in limbo watching Frasier.

Brighton interlude

Hobbled off to Brighton to visit the Japanese shop to buy authentic miso soup. Then visited the doctor to bleat about my health (the lump between my ribs nothing to worry about apparently). Then popped into The Real Patisserie to buy some savoury bits and some chewy brown bread. Took the eatables up to Janet and Ken to scoff them with a nice bowl of mulligatawny soup that Janet had made. A pleasant interlude. Ken rather tired, but much conversation with Janet on a wide range of subjects. She is sensibly opting to take a break from her Diva show next year. Home to Haywards Heath (impossible to get used to saying that) and cabbed yawning back from the station. Then apart from a few urgent emails about Telltale Press and I was bone idle and slept. Then watched World at War documentaries about the Final Solution and Japan. War really is Hell. Was struck by the everyday context for so much of the madness. The Kamikaze pilots for example knocking back a spot of sake before heading off t

Unbelievable luck

Foot still somewhat painful, but Lorraine took some emergency time off work to drive us to big box storage. Opened the door and the storage place was crammed brimful with belongings and boxes. A heart-sinking moment contemplating finding a passport in this haystack. But with unbelievable luck, however, we spotted an open box near the door which had my passport in it. It had been mistakenly taken by one of the movers as it was never intended for storage. So we were in and out within two minutes instead of the hours we had imagined. Lorraine and I off to the bank in Hatewards Heath and was helped by an exceptionally pleasant man to transfer the house deposit to the solicitors. This done, feeling extremely relieved. Lorraine and I home and then after a pause for a pain au raisin and a refreshing cup of tea both of us began work. I caught up with some of the stuff I should have been doing over the last couple of days. Long conversation with Bob in this afternoon. Another couple of Worl

Stress afoot

Appalling night due to sudden onset of the worst gout I have ever had. Quack said new meds might spark an attack at some point and sure enough I was assailed by whimper-inducing pain. Superstrength painkillers helped a little and I had some sleep after about 5am. My lovely wife brought me porridge and a flask of tea in bed and she left for work with strict instructions for me to stay there. Finished the  Hangover Hotel  novel in a blurry haze, a fantastic book in many ways. Soon summoned however by the No Rest for the Wicked Dept. and after a call from an estate agent was forced to drag myself out of bed to chase solicitors. House move appears to be going at full steam -- and the prospect of moving into our new house before the end of the month. This means I had to make a payment of the house deposit I hobbled painfully around the house getting dressed and organised. I needed my passport to make the payment at the local branch, but after searching every inch of the place I could not

Autumnal garden and Hangover Square

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Stressful morning, with Beth's phone not working and Lorraine trying to download software to fix it and running out of time, the shower running out of hot water leaving Beth half washed and frozen, then rushing Beth off to the station to meet John's train, but being caught in a remembrance Sunday traffic jam to make it just in the nick of time, only for John and Beth to miss each other at the station, John getting off the train while Beth got on it. Attempting to introduce some peace into our lives,  Lorraine and I went for a walk in Sheffield Park around the gorgeous gardens in their autumnal glory, and tried to talk about nice things such as what we will do with our little garden once we move in, and the kinds of flowers we will have and so on as the water flamed with the trees' reflections. In the afternoon and evening, poor Lorraine had loads of work to do.  I read most of Hangover Square, subtitled A Story of Darkest Earl's Court, by Patrick Hamilton. Publishe