under another sun

Up and off to Edgware this morning, working on some poems on the train. Finally close to finishing a poem about time and sunken islands that I'd begun ages ago. I was collected by Mum at Mill Hill station and back home. With Mas we pent the day, eating our own bodyweight in Pizza Express, and later on the way back to the station eating large amounts of meaty things at the Jolly Badger Harvester. Fun to hang out and chat. Mum showed me her photos from Panama, with jungle, and monkeys and vivid coloured houses with corrugated iron roofs. Looked a gorgeous place to visit, blighted only by no-see-ums, which I hadn't realised was a proper name for midges. The Tobster apparently a martyr to these. I also sifted through Mum's trove of photos. Sometimes this can be a sad thing, but actually I really enjoyed it.  Fond farewells with Mum and Mas who dropped me at the station, then a train home, walking up the hill to hear about Lorraine and Beth's trip to Basingstoke. Bel...

To Brighton this morning to meet Beth during her lunchtime break, and I quickly went to the bank, and bought a couple of books. Felt great to be in our home town, even if it is just for a flying visit. Off this afternoon off to Staplefield, a village with a pub in it called The Victory. Jo, whose house we are currently renting and a work pal of Lorraine's, got married to her husband David quietly on Friday and gathered a few friends this afternoon. Our new next door neighbours were there too, and were very pleasant. Chatting with people working in education (several knew Lorraine) fell in with one of the locals too. Pleasant afternoon, and I enjoyed a few pints of Harveys. Then to to collect Beth from the station. Plan A was go to a nearby firework display -- a controlled display as Lorraine can't abide the uncontrolled ones. It was however hosing down with rain, so instead the three of us ended up playing Euchre till late. I taught them the three handed game and it brought...

A poor night's sleep for both of us. Lorraine having a stomach bug today, and I felt a little weird in the stomach too. Lorraine slept this morning, and I went to visit my grandparent's grave. I popped into Brouards and was sold a few sprigs of local freesia to put on their grave. I enjoy visiting their grave, and it is not at all morbid.  A convention of magpies broke up as I stepped into the graveyard, which has several people I knew when I was young. My Grandfather David's parents, David and Zelia (who was known as Toots) and his sister Peggy share one grave, its stone is an open book which now looks quiet ancient, quite a strange thing to see mouldering stone when I remember them so vividly. Then back to the hotel where we had a very relaxed afternoon dozing by the pool. I listened to Laughing Stock again and splashed about for some time, and chatting with some of the other residents. Later Lorraine and I bussed off into into St Peter Port where a sun-bronzed, black ...

Book signing More leisurely day today, the island covered in low cloud, and rain. Richard and I slightly delicate (even for poets) this morning. Jane on surprisingly good form. Richard, retrieving the dogs from the kennel, dropped me in town and as the weather was not good, I sat in my usual cafe: the St Pierre by the old market, read my Guernsey Press (searching in vain for any mention of our book, weasels) and made some notes, even starting a poem about fog. Sipped cappuccinos, and sparkling water and trying to find a news item to discuss on the radio next week as I succumbed to a cheese and ham toastie. Met Richard again, looking spiffy in the Pollet and we went to the Guernsey Press shop were there was a fine display of A Guernsey Double in the shop window. Old family friend Betty Tostevin was waiting for us impatiently when we got in, who gave me a firm kiss and bought a book. Otherwise a rather quiet book signing. Left to reflect how our publicity for this bit had gone wrong. Ho...