under another sun

Much better sleep last night, and as Lorraine was up and off early I was too. Spent the day closeted in my office, which I love. I kept looking outside thinking I must go for a walk, but the short interludes of strong sun were overwhelmed by rain and hail and so on. Worked on a poem first thing, finalised some first materials for Helen Russell which I sent her about our music project. This involved another close reading of the story The Centaur by Jose Saramago. This sent I read an interview Robin had done for a magazine before she sent it back to them. Received news about a new agency and have been invited to its inaugural meeting in a few weeks. I also heard from Chiara Beebe who sent me a sound file with a good recording of A Return to Sarnia on it - and the day rounded off by receiving notice of a fair and positive review of The Nightwork here in London Grip . Also spoke to Mum and Anton during the day. Beth had a day off and we ate noodles together for lunch on the gold so...

Gave in this morning and had a full Guernsey Breakfast. Delicious it was too. Lorraine and I caught a bus into town and spent some happy time lurking in the lower gardens of Candie Gardens, which I'd never properly visited, and were quite lovely, and full of vibrant colours and plants. Lorraine and I are working ourselves into a frenzy planning what plants we will have in our new garden if the house sale goes though.  Then walked down to the shops where we did a spot of shopping. Lorraine, appropriately enough, brought a leaf green shirt. Then we walked into the Town Church where the Guernsey Sinfonietta were rehearsing for tonight's concert. They sounded very accomplished. We'd arranged to meet Chiara afterwards, and she called me outside as I was standing next to her. Lorraine, Chiara and I then had a quick drink in a cafe nearby. It was nice to meet her properly, after having emailed and so on for many months. She introduced me to Sebastian Grand, who was conducting...

Another recovery day, I am - touch wood - inching back towards health and every day without a flare up is good. Small amounts of work done but little physical or mental energy. Consequently little to report other than receiving the score for A Return to Sarnia by Chiara Beebe, a very accomplished 22 year old born in Guernsey. She has used my poem A Return for what looks to be, with my rudimentary score reading skills, a rather beautiful piece that also quotes the song Sarnia Cherie. The song is going to be performed in the Guernsey Sinfonietta's Terra Nova concert of modern and new music on, I think, August 6th. This of course made me feel quite cheery - with the prospect of whipping over to Guernsey to see it, thrown in for good measure. It will be good to meet Chiara too, who seems very switched on and sorted and, all being well, to see the bronzed and Italianate Flemings. Finished The sense of an ending by Julian Barnes. I found it very enjoyable, despite its contrivances...

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...

Woke up feeling strangely despondent. Once I had moaned to the lucky Lorraine, I began to cheer up. I seem to need to voice negative feelings to get rid of them.  But if I can't talk about them they fester instead. Thus purged, at last a good day's writing. Getting to grips with the final section of the book. Looking forward to being able to edit and tie up the loose ends on the complete manuscript in a matter of weeks. Later heard from Chiara in Guernsey, who says planning is underway for the piece setting my poem A Return. Feeling a tad coldy or something but to the gym anyway, where one of the staff actually came over for a chat, much to my amazement. Lorraine home early for once. Hurray for Friday. After a snooze we met Cath at the Shahi, and strapped on the nosebag with her. She had been to Ireland, and then walking in the north for many weeks over the school holiday, and looked fit and well. Everyone a bit drained by the week, so Cath went home and L and I r...

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...