under another sun

The air cooled nicely overnight. Lorraine had a bad dream and screamed. I was awake instantly, but had to wake her. The night before it was foxes screaming that woke me. The day, when it came, was another scorcher but the heat seemed, in Brighton at least, a little less intense. With Keith today, and everything went smoothly with nice new clients on an enjoyable job. Otherwise took delivery of a pair of jeans, and a kindle for Lorraine. Also Robin uploaded the last Planet Poetry episode for a couple of months and I wrote the blurb.  Following the Tory leadership race because I want all of them to lose. Pleased the swivel-eyed Suella Braverman fell at today's fence. Enjoyed the robot-in-the-headlights launch speech by Liz Truss. She is the current Foreign Secretary and one of the intellectual Lilliputians regarded as a favourite alongside Dishy Rishi and Penny Mordaunt -- a Harry Potterish name. Commentariat suggesting a Mordaunt vs Sunak final. To be decided by Brexity Tory Party m...

Happy breakfasting as this was non-fasting day. Having the stripped down days, does make you realise just how much food you post into your GI tract every day. This did not stop me buying hot cross buns. Another day of quiet work progress writing about fashion and marketing, followed by a spot of admin and degree of the currently-obligatory brain-deadness this afternoon.  Lorraine beset by job applications again, but Rosie came by and we sauntered off to the Shahi, as it seemed rude not to. Discussing our experiences of crime; Lorraine waking up in the morning to an intruder when she was a nurse and doing night shifts. Rosie having her house invaded by two late teenage girls, one of whom attacked her. Have been re-reading the opening to Under Milk Wood  at bedtime this week. I find it oddly comforting, in its evocation of a world that seems long gone now. Dylan Thomas is unfashionable at the time of writing, but there was some wild and lovely music in his words, and you...