under another sun

Scorchio! again. Got up and caught the 9:24 train from Seaford, looking from the platform across to the sea. Even here the sky a bit murky as there were violent storms over on the French coast. Up to see Mum, reading  poetry by Martha Sprackland. On the train from Lewes I sat next to a Swiss woman and her husband. She was radiating anxiety about the train being full, and having to go to London. For some folks London is real challenge. Made it to Mum's fairly easily, doing my now trademarked slinking from shadow to shadow where possible. Rehung the curtain in the kitchen with Mum, and looked at some of the remaining admin bits left by Mas. Then into Mum's car, winding the windows down and zooming off to the Waggon and Horses for a meal.  I copied Mum and had some cider, which was perfect for the day. Mum made me laugh saying that she sneezed so hard that she sneezed her mascara off. Steve and Paul there as usual, although Steve had a troubled air about him and left early after

Feeling happy and aware of my own luck and freedom this morning as I was up early making breakfast.     Lorraine zoomed off to her personal training early today. I went to my desk and did some decent writing first thing, Lorraine off to do her personal training. After a couple of hours I went to the gym, slinking from shadow to shadow as it was very hot. Some fairly gentle exercises, breaking back into it gradually and carefully. I did a decent 25 mins on the cross trainer, and played with some weights. The lats machine is particularly good for me as they tighten the back muscles and helps a chap stand up straighter.  Too hot to do much more than read some poetry books in the garden, and sort out a few bits of admin.  Took a walk following a fox along the street in a lovely cool breeze just before I climbed into bed. Lorraine and I are on The Horse and His Boy by C.S.Lewis and read a bit where they characters are cross the burning desert to escape Calormen. A hot night here in Seaford.

A hot and lovely day. Started off tinkering with some poems, but instead felt like doing stuff. This translated into hanging a couple of pictures on the wall, and tidying my study up while Lorraine sat at my desk filling in some hideous legal forms.  I then went to the gym, having decided to rejoin. I have become fat again after a year or so of being at the thin end of my personal spectrum, the hateful ventripotence is back. So I rejoined the gym today, and I am to return to more disciplined eating.  Off this evening to Hove, actually, by bus too. Seaford to North Street fairly quick, then another bus across to Hove, a purchase of cold beer from the co-op and then we sauntered down to the beach to celebrate Innis's birthday. Innis, Rosie, Eve and a neighbour friend called Rob and his two grown up children. Then Julia and Jess arrived on bicycles, triggering Rosie and Lorraine to join them in the sea. Innis's pal Phil turned up, who I'd gone to see Michael Kiwanuka with pre-

Innis and Rosie came by this morning, with two guys in a van to drop off some furniture. Then Lorraine and I drove to Robin and Nick's home in Eastbourne, and sat in their enormous garden for a small gathering. They have a party at this time of year most years. This was what Robin said was a scaled down affair with just a few friends, and it was a perfect day for it. Enjoyed meeting two of Robin's old school pals Hester and Maggie -- who call her Liz as she changed her name after she left school.  We also chatted lots with Janet and Leslie, and a very stylish woman, who Robin and Nick know through the choir, called Sally. All in all a lovely way to spend the afternoon, eating rhubarb sponge and sipping some fizzy wine.  A gorgeous drive home over Beachy head and so on back home, into the sun with gorgeous views everywhere. A lovely day.

 Beth and James with us this morning for coffee in the garden, which was fun. In the afternoon Lorraine drove us over to Patrick and Adele's place where we read King John together over several hours, with a few salty snacks and beers, and a lovely meal of Salmon cooked by Adele as an interlude. King John, again a Shakespeare play I'd never met before. It depicted power as horrible and rapidly changing business of double crossings and expedient alliances and so on. Also the origin of the phrase to gild the lily. The catholics didn't come out of it well. Otherwise a bit of a marathon, but lovely to spend time with Patrick and Adele. Patrick did one of his enjoyably protracted last gasp of a dying man. 

A sense of unease this morning. A dream about being in a room with a weirdly magnificent David Bowie. I had a camera I was about to photograph him, but it repeatedly jammed when I was about to snap him, and then he disappeared. As I woke up I had the title of one of his songs, Fame in my head. Not hard to interpret. Attempts to become well known are constantly frustrated and self sabotaged. It was connected to feeling a bit moody about the writing in general, and wondering if featuring myself in the latest podcast was in some way  jumping the shark .  Eent into town with Lorraine, toward in the Lanes Eatery cafe for a coffee and sparkling water for a change of scenery. Working on what seemed like a promising idea, but became distracted by those nearby: two women talking loudly and protractedly about heart attacks on one side, and on the other a couple reading inflammatory bits from the Daily Mail to each other. Then (and I think unconnectedly) a sudden appalling surge in the nether r

Otherwise Lorraine and I drove to Newhaven Fort again, conducted through the the rebuilding works by the same charming Polish builder, and picked up our framed pictures. These done very well by a man called John who also does framing for the Towner Gallery sometimes, so if it's good enough for them it's good enough for us. Popped into Lidl on the way back and then I spent the afternoon doing bits of faffing about and other stuff. The final podcast till October went live today at 4pm. I was immediately beset by a host of insecurities and cringing as I read three of my own poems in it.  Then to Brighton to see a well-looking Anton, we'd not met up since the beginning of June and I'd missed him. He'd been on a couple of much needed holidays. Lots to catch up on, and Anton had lots of amazing photos of his camino walk, and the Tories being stuffed in the election and so on. The coast of northern Spain looks green and gorgeous. We were heading to a pub where they served

Up and editing this morning. Lorraine off to do Rhyme Time. Apparently very well attended today, including by Yvonne and Gabby and grandchildren, and then Lorraine drove off to Ashford to take Maureen to a medical appointment -- which was cancelled at short notice.  Robin arrived, and we did some location recording at Splash Point for our season Finale episode. She was not long back from a few days in Italy. Very hot there apparently. By Seaford Head, a hazy sky and we sat on the fish shaped seating and chatted a bit, against a backdrop of waves and seabirds. We then walked back to Seaford, and ate a snack at the Lanes Eatery, my new cafe, and did a little bit more recording. Robin, bless her, is going to edit all the live stuff. Then we walked back home, and she zoomed off back to Eastbourne. I worried at the interview Robin did with me, and then went out for another walk to get my 10k paces done. Home and an early dinner as I was hungry. Then a bit more work on the podcast, before Lo

Up early and recording with Robin. After four seasons of not featuring any of our own work, we decided to do that this time. A big decision as I don't want to jump the shark and I hope that it won't alienate our listeners but as we both have publications happening in the near future and the fact it is the going off on holiday episode, we felt it would be okay. So we recorded two sort of mini interviews, a bit less formal than our usual ones, with each other - and read three poems each.  After recording, quite a bit of editing, and also a long walk. Meanwhile Lorraine off to Bolney today, and went to a leaver's service in the church there. She loved this, seeing her former pupils on their last day. She went with Sarah, who has also left the school. Hugs from the new head, parents saying nice things to her. Then she went off to see her friends Jo and Rob in the village.   A relaxed evening. Went down with Lorraine to the glasshouse, where the cucumbers are going gangbusters,

A good night's sleep at Danny and Heidi's house. Up in a leisurely fashion, and a lovely porridge seedy nutty fruity breakfast, plus toast smeared with Heidi's home made blackcurrant jam, from her own fruit. Yum. Heidi even gave us a jar to take away which was very kind of her. We had really enjoyed hanging out with them again. Then we set off for the big drive. We set off around 11:30 and with a longish break, arrived home around 7:30.  A lovely journey, for me lazing in the passenger seat. For the first few hours we drove down twisty Welsh roads, running by rivers, and big hills, and scraps of forest and woodlands and villages. Lots of red kites in the sky. Then we crossed the Prince of Wales bridge over the Severn. Stopped somewhere north west of Salisbury at a service station, and sat outside on a bench and ate things like rocket and tomatoes and broccoli quiche, and then after a five minute meditation, we continued following Ways app on a route via Southampton along th

A splendid night's sleep in the Llandindrod Wells Metropole. Up in time to have breakfast. The hotel has an air of faded grandeur and there were only a few people in the big dining room. We scooped up lots of breakfast, and drank some of their curiously tasteless coffee. Then packing and taking everything to the car and checking out. Noticed near reception a nice naive painting of the green hotel. We were given a large postcard sized copy of it for free. Then a mooch about Llandindrod Wells. It must have been a lovely place once, when the spa was really going strong. Beautiful buildings, but like the hotel all a bit run down, and like everywhere, shops that were closed. A nice little park. Then a lakeside interlude with dragons. A large lake dragon sculpture in the lake, and the paths up to the building at the side of it, where there was a cafe, toilets and red or green dragon pedaloes and so on were crowded with Canada geese, swans with cygnets, and ducks and moorhens and so on, w

Croissants with Sue and John, and Lorraine and I packed up and made our fond farewells to Sue and John, who had been wonderfully welcoming as usual. After two nights with them, Lorraine and I felt more relaxed than I had done in a while.  Then we drove the half an hour or so off to see Maxine and Simon (who arrived after work), and Emelia who was back from University. Long chats sitting outside in the sunshine, in their increasingly lovely garden, with the field next door just having been mown, and the grass drying ready for baling. Maxine, who is Lorraine's cousin, is always so welcoming and warm. Emilia, meanwhile, is really enjoying her degree in Psychology, and showed us a great tome of a family bible she had bought second hand. She loves books, of all kinds, including philosophy. She is also doing powerlifting, and loving it. Tay was doing a summer job so we didn't see him. Simon arrived in his chef's whites. Interesting chatting to him about his love of independently

Breakfast in Bromyard, John excelling himself again, and mainly Lorraine and I sdoing a great deal of chatting with John and Sue, and lurking in the garden, and for me throwing a ball to Whiskey the dog, whose idea of returning it was to drop it in the little pond, and lap lots of water in the heat. John was telling me about his solar panels and electric car, and how their idea had been to future proof as much as possible. With the spike in power costs caused by Russia, his panels were going to pay for themselves even more quickly. Being able to charge your car from sunlight is a very good thing. Lorraine and I went off and did a little shopping in Bromyard, and we sent a birthday card to Peter Hoibak. There is a mysterious Dr Who museum at the end of the main street, and we made two attempts to be let in. One time a dog barked threateningly through the glass panes at us, the other time there was nothing. Felt like some kind of Ray Bradbury place, the mysterious shop that does not open

Off to Hereford today, after a good deal of packing and faffing. I also sent off What's Inside to David Longhorn at Supernatural Tales. Fingers crossed (Lorraine read it in bed this morning, and liked it). A long drive for Lorriane, but she managed it okay, and we had a break at a service station once we'd gone through the M25 bit. While driving along, I got an email from Hamish Whyte, the editor at Mariscat, with a rough text of the Mariscat sampler I will be in with Marilyn Ricci and Helen Evans. A really jolly evening with Sue and John in Bromyard. I sat in the garden with John over a smoking barbecue chatting about all manner of things, including Chat GPT the ai tool. They had bought lots of meat, so we had pork steaks, and sausages and bits of aubergines and lots of salad, and we repaired indoors and ate and drank and generally caught up. They had been on lots of travels as usual, including Mauritius, that I went to many years ago. A lovely day.  Whiskey the dog on a lead

Felt lifeless and tired and my throat was closed up, and so called Mum and cancelled my visit to her. I had a very quiet day, what at the agency used to be called a duvet day. I did a final read through of my What's Inside story. I also used Chat GPT to proof it, pasting in chunks several paragraphs at a time into the dialogue box. Other than a few commas, its suggestions were minimal, apart from it spotting a redundant word in a sentence, and wanting to run on a few sentences to make a bigger paragraph. I didn't accept all its suggestions of course, but as an intelligent assistant, another set of cyber eyes to run over a MS, it certainly saved me time. One time I forgot to type in the instruction 'please proof this'. It still proofed the paragraphs, but then, to my surprise, suggested what the next couple of paragraphs might be.What it supplied was clunky and cliched, which is perhaps reassuring.   Dozed a bit too. By the end of the day was feeling a good deal brighte

Pat and Maureen driven home by Lorraine today. I meanwhile had to go off the vampires at my GP for a blood test. Efficiently done by a cheery young woman. Home and then wrote for a bit, then trained off to Brighton to collect Lorraine's ring, with the replaced stone. Very pleasant people in there and the new ring looking great. Texts with Anton today, we will meet up next week. On the train back to Seaford I realised my throat was sore, and I was feeling lifeless. Dozed on the gold sofa, but was almost immediately woken up by someone talking about mobile phone contracts.  When Lorraine home, we ate the curry I'd made, and had a quiet and happy night together. Spoke to Mum at nine, who said she had been kidnapped by the ladies down the road when she was dropping off a birthday card. Lorraine read some more of A Horse and his Boy by C.S. Lewis before we fell asleep. It's one of Narnia books I have read less often, and not at all recently.

Woke up the news that a twenty year old had tried to shoot Trump from afar, and had nicked his ear, Trump having moved his head slightly, and then killed a person in Trump's audience with another shot, before he himself was killed. Trump had the astonishing presence of mind to use the moment as political capital, and there is an amazing, election-winning photo of him blooded, and pumping his tiny fist with the inevitable Old Glory in shot. A historic photograph. The maga people taking this as proof that God wants Trump to lead America.  Then I went into the loft, and found a roll of carpet that matched our bedroom. We cut out the aromatic patch where Brian has repeatedly offended. We will buy a new carpet, but a strip of the same carpet will do for now. Brian has now been banished in perpetuity to the kitchen at night and only in other places supervised during the day, and never in the bedroom. This means Calliope has too.  Otherwise a watching sport day at Kenny Towers. Pat and Ma

A glorious day. Off this morning to collect Beth and James and go for a brief visit to the Rathfinney Estate , which is just five minutes or so from Beth and James's house by car, and then down a long private road.  At the end of which was the place where the wine was made, and outside a very bourgeois 'farmer's market' with pottery and jewellery, and bread, and assorted artisanal goods and some grub such as dried mushrooms at exceptional prices. The estate is set in beautiful landscape, protected by the downs, an and great clattering of jackdaws wheeling round made it even more atmospheric. In today's gorgeous weather it seemed unlike England. Beth and James sampled some of the eyewateringly expensive wines.  I had a sip of what James was drinking, and it was one of those dry wines which gives you a cat's bum mouth, and not just because of the price.  We sat by the cafe -- which was very crowded today -- on the grass at first, till Lorraine found she had been s

5 am. The unmistakable sound of Calliope fighting a big black cat outside, I poked my head through a bedroom window, and skillfully spouted a little water from an indoor watering can onto the black cat, who was twice the size. Calliope then chased it off.  However when I got up later, there was no sign of Calliope. She is normally pestering me in the morning. I went around the garden calling for her, then outside in the street and the alley behind the house. I was beginning to think the worst but she appeared from some secret hiding place and all was well. Up late, Lorraine having to rush off to do StoryTime without a breakfast. I did more editing on What's Inside .  I also crossed the Rubicon, signing off my last business accounts, and closed down my business bank stuff. This felt liberating, more like a new beginning. I haven't ruled out making money in future, but no longer from freelancing for agencies. So ends my little writing business est. 2007. It did me well for 17 yea

Lorraine off to Ashford this morning, after going to Rhyme Time. I spent time working on the What's Inside story, having regained faith in it. A nice note from Diana at Mariscat Press about the sampler publication some of my poems are in, which will be published early Autumn. This afternoon I spent two hours talking with Charlotte and the other Understorians Marilyn, Emma and Linda. Soon after I'd begun this little group a few months ago, I learned that Marilyn, who I'd just met, will be published in the same Mariscat sampler.   I mooched into Brighton this evening to meet Mark and Peter in the Basketmakers. Sat there eating wasabi peanuts and shooting the breeze for quite some time. The England and Netherlands semifinal besieging other pubs, but not in Baskets. Mark and Peter both shared zero interest in the footie. Off for a decentish pizza at Franco Manca.  Could tell by the roar we could hear in pizzeria that England had won. Home on the train with Mark, and then home.

Rain most of the day, and just as we were dropping off, distant thunder in the channel. I worked all day, doing the penultimate edit on my new story What's Inside . But by the end of the day I ended up doubting it, because it is written in the second person, which is highly unusual. I think this adds weirdness to what is trying to be a horror story. I think it works, but I'm not convinced an editor would be prepared to give it a punt. Perhaps this is a legacy of having done all that advertising work. I am writing the story as if it were happening to the reader. Lorraine off to her personal trainer and seeing Penny. Matt the pond man came around and installed an additional plug for the pond to power the UV light in the filter. Standing with him in the rain for a bit. The pond seems clearer, and the fish seem happier too. Went for a walk along the seafront, but it was raining enthusiastically. I suddenly felt very anxious too. Luckily I understand myself much better these days.  

Up early this Monday morning, and working on What's Inside , my latest horror short story. In the afternoon Lorraine and I drove off to Newhaven Fort . It is closed to the public, being besieged by builders, but weirdly there is a picture framing business inside it that stubbornly remains open. We had to be walked through the site by a pleasant Polish builder, who told us they were, among other stuff, repointing all the brickwork in the fort. His building site English amused me.  Let me move this fucking stuff out the way, he said politely clearing our path.  He pointed us to framer behind an unmarked door, where he had his studio. We took some pieces to be framed by him, he came recommended. We strolled for little bit around the castle grounds which leads to a costal path I might take one day. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon in my study moving books around, and chatting with Lorraine who was finishing a lined bag with embroidery on it which looked very smart. She is really

A tad less bright eyed than usual thanks to last night's shenanigans.  Lorraine and I did this afternoon go for a walk along the seafront and visit the Seaford Museum in the Martello tower. People say, we were told, that it is like a tardis, in that it seems much bigger outside than in. And they were right. Very eclectic mix of stuff in there, office machinery and white goods from the mid twentieth century, wartime history, costumes posters and so on,  a smattering of ancient flint axes and so on. One man called Simon approached usand asked I want to revert to childhood. I followed his instructions and pressed a button on a black box, which made one of the trains move on the model of the old Seaford Railway. I was more interested in seeing how it had all previously been laid out.  Then we crept off to Morrisons, and had a quiet evening. We also climbed up to stand on the roof of the tower, and look at the cannon. Took some snaps, a blustery bright day. Also a picture in the museum

Off to Pulborough village this evening. Lorraine picked up Brian and Yvonne (and Marley the dog) and drove off to Sally and Marek's place -- where we met Eliza Sally's daughter. Patrick and Adele arrived shortly afterwards. First business was watching England beat Switzerland in a penalty shootout. England's penalties immaculate, surprisingly, and Ivan Toney, who plays for Brentford, did his special technique of shooting while holding the goalkeeper's gaze and not looking at the net at all. Sally and Marek have a lovely home. Sally has made the walls dark and lovely, covered in paintings. And the river Arun runs at the bottom of their sloping garden.  A curry ordered in, and we sat about drinking and making merry, while Sally and Marek's three dogs, and Marley generally scampering about. Sally has a new puppy called Weasel, and it was therefor impossible for me not to like this dog. One of the dogs, called Scout, joined in the singing once Patrick had picked up a gu

A quiet day in the Kenny household after staying up late last night.  Spent much of it absorbing all the details of what is a historic event.   Mum had voted for the winning candidate, and the constituency was won by Labour in the tightest race in the UK -- a margin of a mere 15 votes. Mum had voted for the winning candidate. Spent much of the day absorbing the politics. Keir Starmer gave an excellent servant leadership type speech before entering No.10. An immediate change of tone.  I particularly enjoyed seeing the calamitous Liz Truss lose her seat.  Lorraine off to be with Micky the cat this afternoon, as Beth and James travelling north for Olivia's wedding.  We watched footie in the evening, most of a good game between Spain and Germany, which Spain edged, and an underwhelming nil-nil game between France and Portugal, which the French won on penalties. I cooked this evening, and was able to saunter into the garden and pluck some cavolo nero leaves to add in. A photo I took yes

Editing at eightish, which took a couple of hours as there was a something wrong with my channel on part of the recording, then sent it back to Robin and wrote the episode show notes. Then off to the Polling Station round the corner to vote. The only local political type lurking by the door wondering if you'd voted was from the Lib Dems. We voted tactically for the Lib Dems as they were much more likely to beat the incumbent Tory.   Home to write the blurb for the poddy, then made off to Brighton by bus, as there had been some kind of points failure between here and Lewes. Lovely journey, very windy and very sunny, with just a few little clouds and the sea white capped and greenish.   Went into the jewellers to return Lorraine's ring from which a stone had fallen out, they were very nice about it and will replace the missing stone. Then down to see Stacy to sort out my hair. Brighton lively, and the Pavilion gardens packed out, and parties of foreign school kids filing up North

Lozza the Offenda doing a three hour Road Safety Awareness Course today, as well as Rhyme Time. I went up to Edgware listening to podcasts about the General Election tomorrow. To hang out with Mum, who was in good spirits, chatting in the conservatory and drinking tea. We also worked out how to print from the computer. Off in the afternoon to the Waggon and Horses, had some nice food and I drank Guinness and Mum had a cider. We also talked to the guys in the corner, Steve and Paul, who came to Mason's funeral, and one or two others. In the empty pub you can hear Steve and Paul debating many things, including a good twenty minutes on why there was an archbishop of York and an Archbishop of Canterbury.  Drove back home and had more tea, and more chats. Toby called so we three were able to have a chat. He's now installed in Washington with Romy and Meaty the cat... A long drive there from Toronto -- stopping in Ithaca, New York. The journey almost scuppered as the removal people b

Recording with Robin this morning, which went fairly well I think.  Then in the afternoon Lorraine suggested we spontaneously go to  the Towner Eastbourne. There was a big exhibition upstairs of work by Emma Stibbon, called Melting Ice | Rising Tides , and was mainly about white things... Icebergs and the domestic white cliffs. Some big and impressive pieces, with a limited palette with a slightly campaigning edge. Also a big installation by Maria Amidu which I didn't like but made me think. We also enjoyed art by Eric Ravillious which is there too. Then a saunter down to the sea front. It was trying to rain all the time, which was annoying as the forecast had said there was no rain due. Eventually we hopped back on a 12 and went back to East Dene where we got off and walked past beautiful flint walled buildings to eat in The Tiger Inn. An okay bite to eat, but good Long Man brewery beer and a nice atmosphere. Then onto the 12 again and back to Seaford in no time.  Below a glimpse

Writing this morning, getting myself tied up in knots and everything falling apart in the MS. In the afternoon, I walked Lorraine to the shops, and in talking to her got things clearer in my head. Then had a walk down to splash point where I snapped the concrete sea defences. Home and Lorraine and I  watching Euro games. Not much going on other than Ronaldo in tears for a bit after missing a penalty.  Spoke to Mum, and also to Toby who was having a nightmare trying to find somewhere to park in Washington DC.