Scorching again

A phone call at 3:30am and Lorraine had to drive to Stratheden Court. There was no point me going too, but then I couldn't sleep, so I was up till when Lorraine got home an hour later. 

Another heatwave scorcher, though the air was slightly cooler this afternoon and at night. An omen of the coming catastrophe. Feeling powerless to change anything is the disease of the age. In W.B.Yeats's lines 'The best lack all conviction, while the worst / are full of passionate intensity'. Still, mustn't grumble, eh?

Otherwise a perfectly nice day for us, after we got up late. Heat lethargy and disrupted sleep meant we didn't do much. Breakfast, and sitting outside in the shade and breeze. I tried to do some writing, but I find it very hard to concentrate for very long. Mum and Toby went to Hampstead today, though the train line to Hampstead wasn't working for some reason. Probably to do with the heat. They are busy next week till Thursday, so I will go up, and I will return to Brighton to host Tess and SJB's poetry reading in the Walrus in the evening.

England this evening. They were incredibly lucky to win 2-1 after extra time, Jude Bellingham played a blinder and scored England's goals. As I predicted yesterday, and what pundits had predicted, the semifinals are France and Spain, and England and Argentina. I'll be fascinated by France vs Spain. The England game will be too excruciating to watch I think, unless numbed by boozes.