under another sun

Kissed Lorraine near Preston Park station, then into London, reading. I had randomly picked up Canal Dreams by Iain Banks which I have carried in boxes from house to house for years. Now was the time I would finally read it. After 40 minutes I decided I hated it. The characters were cardboard, the writing useless and I didn't care what happened in this story, just as long as I didn't have to keep reading it. I gave it a good go though. Interesting how good writers can write terrible books sometimes, I googled it afterwards, and it seems that Banks thought it was his worst novel. I've only read the Wasp Factory , which while I thought was only okay, it was much better than this Canal Dreams . I had selected it based on my current spate of canal mooching. Into work, and a reasonable pace of things today, rather than yesterday's machine-like slog. A walk at lunchtime, first to the Smiths in Paddington station and a futile search for something decent to read. Then I walk...

Working on poems on the train this morning. A big meeting this morning, and lots of work fell out of that. The day passed quickly. A quick walk at lunchtime, and I ate my solitary rice pot by the canal. After work I travelled up to Stanmore. As soon as I arrived, we zoomed out again to go to the Harvester on the way to Mill Hill. Strapped on a protein heavy nosebag then. Really pleasant waitress made all the difference, as did a beer. Cheery time in there, Mas enjoying the salad bar. Then home, and I sat with mum and had a glass of wine with her in the back room and chatted about various subjects. I went to bed quite early. In the bedroom I found a load of photographs Mum had been looking through. I snapped one or two with my iPhone, not seen several of them for a long time. This one of Mum painting the name Chelsea on the gate of my grandparents house in Guernsey, is a historic moment in history of my family.

London calling After a much-needed haircut, up on the train to the smoke today leaving Calliope scowling unhappily at a battery-powered automatic feeder. First task was to drink a festive beer or two with Keith, from the Glamoursmith agency I sometimes work with. Really nice chat in The Distiller's pub. He was telling me about his twin girls who, at three, are already giving him unsolicited advice on clothes, including referring to his smart new beanie as "the funny hat". Also learned that a concept we'd worked on together had been the foundation for a successful campaign. Then on to Edgware to hang with Mum and Mase, who are girding their loins to fly off to Costa Rica to meet Toby, Romy, Joan and Dick. They are stopping off in Houston first and meeting an old pal of Mason's who is driving 1000 miles to be there. In the evening to the local Harvester where I ate a satisfying combo platter of ribs and chicken parts. Mas and Mum talking about bizarre people they ha...