A curate's egg

Good in parts. Somewhat galled to learn, via Keith first thing this morning, that the job for next week had evaporated.  Now they want Keith for to work for two days with an in-house writer. Naturally the agency said nothing to me till I chased them. Inconsiderateness which to be industry standard for 2020. 

More positively, the Planet Poetry podcast, is creeping forward, and we now have a trailer that is listenable to here. We will link to iTunes and so on shortly so that it can be downloaded like any other podcast.

Sonia telling me about her visit to Stirling and Edinburgh. They went by plane which made me feel a bit twitchy as she edged into my study to share the experience. 

Went for a walk and drifted into the edges of Wild Wood. Feels happy to be among trees in autumn. Everything feels precarious, but the sheer freedom of being able to walk about in woods is not to be underestimated. There has been many an autumn day over the years, when I have had my nose to some sort of grindstone, where a walk in the woods was something I yearned to do. 

Lorraine home in one piece after another week. A small curry I collected from Red Chillies. Everyone masked except for the man who hands the bag to you with his nose hanging out.

Below fungi that have sprung up in our little stumpery. A fallen tree, one of many in Wild wood, and the leaf-strewn path. Both the wood pictures make me think of stained glass, with the branches being lead.