under another sun

A bright and cheering start. Was offered three bits of freelance work, naturally for more or less the same time, but I appear to have two lined up for next week. Otherwise spent the morning falling hawkishly on the mistakes in my manuscript. Also contacted by Chiara Beebe, who is currently in Italy, but has been thinking about my poem A Return which she is now seeing as a piece for solo voice and full orchestra. She has earmarked August 6th as a possible date for its performance in St Peter Port. Felt like my plug had been pulled out half way through the afternoon, so I had a refreshing walk in the park. But after about 35 minutes, I felt utterly sluggish. Home to listen to a meditation tape, its soothing undermined by Calliope's feet clawing happily on my chest. Back to work till seven, by which time Lorraine had returned and to work next to me in the study. Enter Brian making proud meeping noises. Lorraine looked over the banister and, after a carefully long-range triage, sai...

Meteorologists predict that today will be the last day of the summer weather. And for me the day fell into the nice pattern of the last week. Up and working fairly quickly and fluently on the book.  Then a trip to the gym for an hour or so. Forgot a teeshirt to change into after showering so had to buy one, shopping aromatically in my sweaty one. Then to Starbucks in a new teeshirt for a large cup of tea and  that all-important change of scene as I worked. Sat next to a young European-looking couple who were chatting in a strange language. Invariably I have a rough idea, but this was like nothing I'd heard. Perhaps they were time travellers from the future. More email with my new and interesting friend Chiara, who is a Guernsey born cellist, singer and composer. I am sending her a copy of Clameur and A Guernsey Double . From what she tells me about her musical tastes it will be fascinating to hear how she sets A Return . In the evening, after I cooked a rather tasty chick...

Lorraine back into her usual routine of getting up at 6:30. My betrothed brings me a cup of tea, though, which makes it marvellous. A good day's writing, a quick go at reworking the lost poem that I deleted on the train at St Pancras last month, then writing about the notion of Adland, and on marketing charities. Feeling that progress is being made and that left to my own devices I might actually finish this thing. Broke off to go to LA Fitness, my gym for an hour or so, chatting to Mum and Mas as I walked there. At the gym, they have unbelievably still not fixed the air conditioning problem. I am having a problem too. I am losing weight everywhere, but my stomach is lagging behind or should that be lagging in front, of the rest. I have to be more fanatical, and shun beers and smiling and do more sit-ups. A spot of shopping noticing the sea mist thick down by the sea, before returning home to sunlight and to reapply the desk manacles. Lorraine came home this afternoon and we we...

The rain rains in its own time So up early feeling very cheerful today. Lorraine zoomed off to the station having had a sleepover. Got an email from Catriona in Guernsey with a pdf of my Guernsey bus poem, which I might have printed up full size as a poster. Satisfying to see this thing I wrote when I was about 22, more than half a lifetime ago, being given an airing. I've always liked this little poem for the simplicity of its language, and that it is about returning to a specific place I love. And of course seeing your name in print is something I can never tire of. Something from the I Ching that has always resonated with me, I don't have the exact words to hand, but it is: "the clouds are all here, but the rain rains in its own time." This can mean the time you create something isn't necessarily the same time as it will be appreciated. Working on the play competition entry. Given that I've been working on illnesses for the last three months, I decided to ...