Managing the cloud

Made a great list of The Cloud of Things that Must Be Done this morning, and managed to work through them in a hard-nosed way. If every day were like this I would be dangerous. On reflection it may be because I was unplagued by cats. We'd left Beth's bedroom door open and they slept there together all afternoon. They increasingly tolerate one another.

In the evening to a poetry workshop at the top of the Duke of Wellington, a pub that I always avoided near the Twitten. Bought a pint of soda and lime and went up the stairs to find Robin, Andie and three others around a long table in a poky little room. I felt as if I had intruded on a board meeting. It was an interesting session with lots of time devoted to each poem. Received useful feedback on an older poem of mine I have earmarked for The Nightwork. Enjoyed this very much, although towards the end, I could barely string a sentence together. Walked back to the station with Andie talking about the symbolism of the Phoenix, which her poem had been about.

Home to my lovely wife, who was enjoying a TV: one a about a murderer, and another about people giving birth, before bed was slunk-to.

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