under another sun

Salisbury Road a hive of industry. Editing for seven hours. Cheerlessly re-listening to one of my poorest interviews. Not my guest's fault however.   Meanwhile Amanda did her last day of painting the spare room, in chestnut mushroomy taupe which will look very nice with the Inca Gold carpet. Sylwia cheerily cleaning this morning.  I had intended to go to the gym or a long walk, but I just wanted to finish the edit, which I did at 5:15pm.  Lorraine very busy today, showering Pat this morning, then delivering Story Time at the library and later taking Pat to see Cóilín the nice dentist.  I spoke to Mum and we were really pleased that Toby had not travelled today. A huge fire disabled all the electricity, causing disruption to a thousand flights. I was keen to get out and drink beer. Lorraine got home just in time for us to go to the pub for the usual Friday Night shenanigans in the Old Boot Inn with assorted 're-booters'. Another tableful, and a new woman called Andy, ...

Up and writing well this morning, feeling rightly or wrongly that the  albatross manuscript is taking shape finally although its title is still undecided. I have found a way to weave together the strands of writing about memory with that of masculinity and have been enjoying a sudden burst of progress. I have to meet up with Keith and thrash out a few bullet points on Monday, but other than that free and clear now on the freelance business for a bit. Spoke to him this morning about the offer to work over the weekend, which I declined yesterday. Did some billing and sending in timesheets this afternoon. Off this afternoon to the gym, after a post lunch and nap after Lorraine and I had meditated. Dragged myself there to be honest. A bit concerned that I can do only half as much as I could a few weeks ago. I had a bit of a bug but I am really struggling on the cross trainer. Lorraine noticed this morning the same effect when she was at her personal trainer. Not feeling ill, just an u...

Keith in a foul mood as his neck had flared up and he was in lots of pain, and muttering about telling everyone to off off and throwing the job in and so on. All this made the prospect of two important presentations with him a bit more exciting than necessary. When it came to it, of course, his behaviour was impeccable. But this was not before I had the vision of the week's work and earnings going up in smoke. I remained calm. Interspersing the day with several short walks -- even if it is just 15 mins, seems to help. It is very hard to be your best self under lockdown conditions.   A feeling of relief at being able to head for the gold sofa with Lorraine. Three more days of this job next week. The nameless entities haunting the vast batsqueaky voids of the Kenny coffers may yet find their slumbers disturbed.  A little bit of walking this week, first thing, at lunchtime and so on. Noticed little things like the blooming of spring flowers, and I was so excited by seeing a bird ...

Back and head pain abating. A walk with Bleak House, some writing of my own, and generally feeling a good deal cheerier. Really happy this evening to receive a takeaway from The Shahi which L and I ate with glee. Beautiful tender chicken.  Lovely feedback about the interview with Charlotte too, and she seems happy too. Chatted with Mum and and Anton.  The only good thing about Lorraine going into school, is the fact it does give shape to our week. And it is possible to feel quite Fridayish on a Friday. Some snaps from today, the on the golf course, and two others walking home towards the sea. The last one out of one of the kitchen window. I just liked the colours in the clouds. 

Up early and working on the French animal diseases, which I eventually finished at around midday. A chat with Val in Paris. Ideas were not coming to me as easily as leaves to a tree this week. Glands in my right armpit are swollen, and I've been feeling a bit drained. The NHS website says I shouldn't be hypochondriac about this so I am obeying. The luxury of a snooze this afternoon. I think there should be buffer weeks between the holiday and actually doing work, although this does not seem to be the popular view.  Happy that it is Friday, and that it is also a bank holiday weekend.

Work less intense, and I found myself with enough time to go for a stroll around the park and into the walled garden, trying to get my head together. Draining week, and I'm just living for the weekends at the moment.  Beth and I also secured the booking for the Box theatre in the Warren. Celebrated with a twenty minute doze on the sofa went out with Lorraine, back from a two day conference for headteachers (talking heads apparently). I had missed her. Pushed off to the Preston Park Tavern and sat looking at the map of Belgium and talking to Lorraine and drinking a couple of pints of Doom Bar beer and then feeling the assorted unpleasantnesses of the week abating. I am warming to my local. Lorraine talking about the conference. Apparently the heads had a boogie on Thursday night, which sounds fun.  Beth joined us and we all had a bite to eat. A beef burger for me, and the second one in a about four or five years. It was delicious. Home feeling decompressed and cheerful.

Friday! Yippee! Getting up at seven seemed like a lie in this morning. Toast and coffee with Mum and Mas, then Mas kindly drove me off to Stanmore station. Made it to work early on the bus from Willesden Green. Work a tad tiresome. I was given conflicting priorities, misbriefed on something I spent hours on, and given unclear deadlines. Still happy to be there, and I have been asked to return for the first three days of next week, which is great news. My pals in Tavistock Square have also been in touch, and I may be up there later next week too. Six o'clock and free at last. Swift and easy journey back to Brighton, listening to The Count of Monte Cristo . Good to be home after what had seemed like a long week. After a shower Lorraine Beth and I sloped off to the Shahi where we had a nice evening, hearing about Lorraine and Beth's cheery trip to Ongar in Essex where they used to live, and saw old neighbours and friends. Below a digger in the air. The agency subject to WW1...