under another sun

Up early and cracking on, despite feeling a bit poor. A strange exhaustion stole over me at noon. So much so that I had a short sleep for lunch, walking zombie-like into town into Délice to have a long chat with Catherine. As usual a wide-ranging chat. Having worked on my own so much lately, seeing Catherine for a few hours and talking about my writing and her publishing over a couple of coffees and a snack was like a breath of fresh air.  She is very encouraging. Fond farewells with Catherine and home again to finish off a few bits. A nice evening in, with my lovely slipping out to collect a takeaway from the Shahi.

The morning lurking about with Mum, chatting and eating toast and jam and then making off to the Brighton Museum and Art Gallery. There are two rooms full of work by women artists, and we looked at these quite carefully.  A piece by Alison Smith, who seems to be little known, which made us feel a woozy with its strange perspective and unsettling air. Then off to have another mooch about by the sea and thread through the streets and the park. Eventually we had a snack at Délice in the North Laine before we lunged off to the station. Mum had a soup and a hot ginger beer. Sad to see mum go off this afternoon. Then for me off to Sainsbury's, then some tiresome house-related admin and a bit of work on the book. A quiet night in eating fish, steamed vegetables and brown rice with my Lorraine. Below Country Sunday c 1934  by Alison Smith whose dates are unknown. Looking at it with Mum made me curious to know more about her but a google search reveals little.

Poor Lorraine up at sixish, so I got up early too getting things ready for the estate agents, and tweaking diabetes pen copy before I sent it into cyberspace. Off into town to sit in Délice cafe and work happily on my business idea for a couple of hours, a simple thing that during the flu seemed like an impossible dream. The cafe, which I went to the first time with Anton the other day, is friendly and French. I strapped on the nosebag there too and wasn't disappointed. Home via Sainsbury's to reassure Sonia who was for some reason traumatised by having broken a cheap lamp, and offering to pay for it. I of course refused. Spent the late afternoon tired, but happily listening to Wodehouse stories and cooking. Also looking at some poems by Dante Gabriel Rossetti that Julia, Bob's sister, sent me. Rossetti has passed me by, so this was an interesting exercise. Her blog about Rossetti is listed on the right, and is well worth a visit.