under another sun

Even if I say so myself, writing rather excellently first thing. Then I zoomed off to my last glass class for the foreseeable future. Took in some designs for my next piece and discussed them with Ben. He said at the end he would pop around to see how I was getting on and with glass and so on next year, which was kind of him.   Off to Fatto a mano in Hove afterwards. For food and a glass of wine with classmates Yvonne, Adele, Rick, Mick, Frances and Sally. I had one of their nice diavola pizzas. Most of the ladies had delicate salads. A jolly interlude with lots of laughter. Yvonne, having few barriers, lays the groundwork for some some no-holds-barred conversations. Caught the bus to Fiveways with Rick, and as he lives around the corner from me we walked home. He is recently widowed, and he lives around the corner from me. Nice guy. His wife was only 59, but he has lots of family who are supporting him thankfully. A bit more work and reading, before Lorraine came home and ...

Up and a bit of my work, and a bit of tidying, before zooming off to my glass class. Another enjoyable session, where I did lots of soldering. Coffee afterwards with most of the class, and hung about chatting with Chris at the end. This done, I simply slipped around the corner to call in on Helen, and we listened to the entirety of act two of the Centaur opera, to which she had done lots of work, really sounding convincing now. Perhaps it was having been to Glyndebourne recently, but it helped me imagine it being sung on stage more easily too. Good to see her for a while, and escape into a world of music. Then I walked home. Lorraine having a bit of a wretched week at school for various reasons I won't go into here. Home, however, and we caught a cab and zoomed off down past Preston Park where a big fireworks display was going to happen, down to the Station pub in Hove again, where John's band Body Talk was playing again. Always nice to see Betty and John, and I enjoyed cha...

Weather that has been dubbed the mini beast from the east arrived today. Quite a lot of snow falling this morning in Brighton, and then it resumed in the evening and settled. Lorraine and I tucked ourselves onto the gold sofa and watched The Kite Runner which we both enjoyed.  Also watched The House of Small Cubes , a lovely short animation by Kunio Kato which won an Oscar. Lovely thoughtful symbolism done excellently. Spoke to Mum who advised us against braving the mini beast. Snow falling still in London. In the evening, Lorraine and I popped around to see Rosie and Innis, who are off to Brazil for three weeks, mixing business with pleasure. Rosie doing some education work at a conference with a British School, while Innis, poor chap, has lined up some work shooting photos of Brazilian models on a beach. Then we met Dawn and her new boyfriend David over some pub grub in Shoreham. Clientele a bit noisy it being Saturday night. I ate a spicy bean burger, Lorraine and Dawn h...

A comforting ghost Oddly, considering I woke very early after a short night's sleep felt grateful to be alive, and full of cheer this morning. I was listening to the The End of the Affair , watching the countryside and railway sidings slip by, full of purple buddleia and yellow flowers. I had a vision on the train. Out of nowhere Dave my Grandfather was sitting opposite me and holding my hand. I guess he must have held my hand once or twice as I had a sense memory of what his hand felt like, and he was the same sort of age as I am now. A weird, passing thing, that at the time seemed natural and comforting. It was so real that it brought a lump to my throat and I almost cried. Very odd, like seeing an unalarming ghost. Into the agency, and again rather a thin day's work to the point that I'm not required to go tomorrow, though some work may be briefed in remotely - i.e. I can stay in bed an hour longer, and no commute. The French Bloke gave a talk to his agency like a kind o...

Burning of the clocks Woken up at four in the morning by a mugging in the twitten. I don't know who was mugged, just heard a lot of shouting, and running and a demand to "give us everything". I sprang out of bed and phoned the cops, but everyone concerned had sped away before I had reached downstairs. Laborious descriptions needed, while I stood naked in the dark and the perpetrators legged it. How did I know it was a mugging? I looked out of the windows to confirm nobody was around or hurt. Silence returned and I went back to bed, later hearing two policemen quietly talking and checking the twitten. All seemed like a dream by morning. My house is like Tom Bombadil's house in the Lord of the Rings, the bit where the hobbits are told to heed no nightly noises. A lovely slow day. To lunch at the Sussex Yeoman with Lorraine and Cath and Hywel, who is over from Iceland where he works as an archaeologist specialising in Vikings. Interesting to hear what he's up to, inc...