under another sun

Worms and seabirds Hacking bits out from Skelton Yawngrave, which feels good in a slightly masochistic way. Have given myself the deadline of the end of the month to complete the revision, as it is with some sadness and head shaking that I realise I need to work to a deadline, even if it is self-imposed. Then a long call with Alex. Apparently some people in France ridiculed the work I did on the useless brief. After some discussion I suggested to Alexandra that these people were worms, and she said 'yes, dangerous worms', in her French accent which cheered me up. Clearly, though, not an ideal response. A long walk down to the sea at Hove, and then home again along the seafront. Cobweb removing wind. But it was sunny and the rough sea had pushed the pebbles back up the beach. Then a bit more Skelton at home, and then spent most of the afternoon and evening doing mundane admin, billing, bidness of various kinds and catching up with correspondence. Thank God for the refuge of my F...

Through the snowy squares A bad night's sleep, and the alarm going off far too early. Rows of cancellations and delays on the Station's information board. Eventually a train to Victoria arrived and I was able to travel in without being incredibly late. Every person in the train coughing and sneezing, but nice looking out at the white world from the train, and then later walking through the chiaroscuro of snowy London squares. However I was too late and cold to take any photos. A victim of my own speed, I managed to crack the concept I'd been brought in to work on (with a nice Swede called Sven) almost instantly. I am happy to trade a day's pay for not having to commute to London through the snow just before Christmas. After work walked down to Covent Garden, to meet the French clients for a glass of champagne in their small office, as Katharina who I have been dealing with over the last few months is returning to Germany. Alexandra good value as ever, discussing busine...

Full moon and foxes Woken up at an early hour by a crashing about and strange yelps in my front patch of garden. Calliope looking alarmed on the end of my bed. Leapt up as someone had recently kicked at some trellising. Imagine my surprise when I saw two urban* foxes on my doorstep. I lent out of my window clapping, and one made off through the, now clearly fox-made, hole in the trellising. I think the filthy beasts had the effrontery to be breeding too. On my doorstep. Needled three times this morning in an attempt to get blood. Nurse apologetic but kept on jabbin'. Luckily despite being a hysteric and a hypochondriac I seem to be okay about having blood taken. Then home working on my new poems for a bit before shooting off up to the smoke on a double mission. First off to the South Bank to drop of a brace of Guernsey Doubles into the National Poetry Library, and spend a couple of hours reading through the latest poetry magazines. Curiously heartened by the idea-free, emotionless...

à Londres Up to the smoke this morning to visit my lovely French clients as Jeanne is leaving. Jeanne's replacement is Alexandra, a half French and half Russian woman. A rather extraordinary lunch with Alex and two frighteningly on the ball young women interns, Justine and Katerina (who is German). We were soon joined by Jeanne. We had wide-ranging and bizarre conversations, and I discovered that Alex is very funny, possessing strong opinions about the uselessness of jellyfish, the suicide rate in Normandy, and the tenets of Toltec civilisation. She crackles with an unpredictable energy when not gasping at cigarettes in an authentically French way. We had just settled down in Cafe Rouge and poured some wine when Justine, who was sitting opposite, knocked her glass of red over my best shirt. Apart from this, however, great fun and the promise of further involvement with the French ladies. Jeanne unable to discuss the details of her future, and was naturally slightly preoccupied. But...