No flow

I got up early and went to my desk. I am not in a flow state. When I am, I can look up and realise an hour or several has evaporated. With Lorraine away, and nothing pressing to do, I have the perfect few days for writing. My focus and enthusiasm is lacking, but I went through the motions and made a small improvement to one poem.  

I missed Lorraine, who is staying in Ashford and busy helping Pat and Maureen get ready for their move.  For years I was perfectly happy in my own company, but now not having Lorraine around feels weird and unnatural. I have been brainwashed. Lorraine says she spoke to the jewellers who were aghast that the stone had fallen out of her new ring that I'd bought her as a belated birthday present, and to bring it back. 

I went for a longish walk this afternoon, which helped my general antsy feeling. The beautiful weather meant there were a few more people there. A large group of south asian folks near the bottom of Edinburgh road, appeared to brought their own caterers, with a barbecue stand with sizzling meats, and a drinks stand for the party. A crowd of hopeful herring gulls overhead. As I walked along I began noticing gull/human interactions, with the gulls hanging about, and trying to gatecrash the three our four big parties on the stones.  

Anton sent me a photo of a French beer.  

Home, and a bit of listless reading. Made spaghetti. Felt bored. Took myself to the Welly for a single beer, but didn't enjoy it much. I also began to get the idea that I had left a window open. Home, the window was closed. I watched a bit of footie, a bit of a depressing documentary about Billie Holliday, spoke to Lorriane and then climbed up to bed shepherded by the cats.