under another sun

Icy rain this morning, and Facebook full of pictures of people north of here enjoying the snow. Not a flake on Kenny Towers though.  A nice breakfast of avocado and crispy bacon on toast. A spot of tidying up, laundry, floor mopping and so on. Lorraine enjoying her exploration of the beautiful underground wonderland in a game called Pode for quite a while. Chuffed as Tess is setting up a business as a professional proofreader, and said she could practise proofing on a bit of my stuff. This prompted me to gather some of my short stories with a view to getting some of them properly read for errors. In the afternoon I went for a quick stroll up the hill listening to Bleak House while I did so. I then came home to pick up Lorraine for a quick stroll around the neighbourhood. We bumped into Simon and his wife for a chat, but it was uncomfortable with people trying to come through on the pavement. A quick circuit of Blaker's Park, and past the closed down pubs The Cleveland and The Prest...

Lorraine off to work, before I had even struggled out of bed having got up in the night.  Spent much of the day editing the podcast, broken by a walk up the hill in the grey and drizzle, while listening to Bleak House. The audiobook is read, absolutely fabulously, by Miriam Margolyes. Such a great book.  Had chats with Anton, and a long catch up with Bob, who was an optimistic mood -- he seems positive we'll meet later in the year for a beer. Spoke also to Mum and was saddened to hear that her neighbour's behaviour will now necessitate talking to solicitors. He is threatening to build a fence down their shared path. It seems lockdown makes crazy crazier. I will help as much as I can. But lockdown of course makes nothing easier. Lorraine home and was fed mashed up new potatoes and sausages. She played her computer game on the big screen for a while, but was persistently swallowed by a creature that stripped her avatar of its shield. I sipped a glass of aquavit again tonight....

Attempting Iron Discipline this morning, despite very little sleep the night before. Getting a grip with various bits of correspondence, some dealing with Janet, plus other bits more forward looking. Went for a walk through Blaker's Park and then down into Preston Park. In Lucerne Road I saw a congregation of Corvids, an angry jay shrieking at a pair of magpies, who were then joined by a rook, all in a bare roadside tree. A turn around Preston Park, and then home again feeling wan and lifeless. Good news from Anton, who had returned from his cardiac checkup with the news that he has been released back into the world, not needing another checkup in five years, nor does he require any medication. Wonderful news, which did not stop Anton moaning about having paid for two hours of parking, when the consultation took ten minutes. As the day wore on, I began the properly streaming cold that Lorraine had. Then, as always seems to happen when I am feeling rubbish, I was then offered ...

Lorraine working from home. I tidied up my office and caught up with this blog and started writing lists of things to be done. A trip to Sainsbury's, using a list which seemed to take us longer than when we just do it on autopilot. Annoyingly my sinuses and throat chose today to hurt lots, and I felt washed out. Slept on the sofa for an hour in the afternoon, which definitely does not accord with principles of Iron Discipline. However rallied somewhat after sleeping. Lorraine said I was fighting off a cold, which is made it feel more rigorous. Lorraine cooked a lovely dahl this evening, with curried cauliflower and we ate this watching more episodes of Bleak House . This was a brilliant series, which I missed when it was first broadcast. Makes me want to read the novel again.

Woke up with my head buzzing with ideas, as Calliope and Brian walked on me. They are no respecters of hangovers. Fed the wretched weasels at about eight thirty and then made tea and crept back into bed. Cheery and optimistic today. I am usually dubious about January, and use the turn of the year to brood on my own shortcomings. This year I am simply not going to do that nonsense. Lorraine and I discussing in bed the iron discipline that we will employ to make a success of this year. I feel the need to heft myself up by my bootlaces. I am not fit, I am overweight (as ever at this time of year) and need to generate cash, and push on with my projects. Today, however, was about gently starting the year. Drank no booze today, for which my liver and kidneys are profoundly grateful. Lorraine cooked a rather marvellous turkey pie, as we were chatting to Mum on FaceTime.  Spoke also to Anton, who had watched all the Indiana Jones movies last night at home with a cold. Lorraine and I th...

No model of deportment Lorraine having stayed overnight zoomed home. She is on holiday now so is dealing with plumbers, estate agents, looking at houses etc. I meanwhile simply got down to work writing the Implementation Guide for all the Arthritis stuff I've been working on. It is all beginning to take shape, which is good. My poor client had a computer meltdown this afternoon, and this enabled me to do some of my own things slightly earlier. Refining my skeleton video pitching Skelton Yawngrave. The idea is people click onto the micro site page I am building then they have the option of having a skeleton tell them about my story. My first take was way too long, as I'm aiming for a 30 seconds "elevator pitch". I also need to record a short audio-book style excerpt (which is an idea of Anton's) to download from the site. All this necessitates a rather mad and piercing voice characterisations. Long email from Richard in Guernsey discussing our top secret remora fis...

Fog and chocolate cake The train nosing through a tunnel of dense fog. As usual this reminded me of Bleak House by Charles Dickens, especially as the train slid over the bridge into Victoria station. I did some good work on my poems on the train. Meanwhile, at Victoria, I went to the ticket office to renew my oyster card and pay the man back for the free ride he gave me yesterday. He was surprised, but he declined payment, and said it came from the heart and said that sometimes this sort of thing makes the world a better place. This philosophy, delivered in a sunny West Indian accent, entirely renewed my faith in humanity. And I found his small and random act of kindness to me genuinely moving. Had another swim at lunchtime, which I enjoyed and was much less frenzied than yesterday which was barging and elbowy and too full. Meanwhile the great resignation saga goes on. The agency may has well have been lost in the fog as no new deal was forthcoming. I ended the day sending written c...