under another sun

Spellbound Feeling shabby this morning due to ouzo excesses. Compounded by Mason and Mum getting up at seven thinking that Lorraine had told them she wanted to get up at this time. There must be something in the stars. A breakfast of crumpets and much gulping of coffee followed by a lurch about in the garden. Another beautiful day. Mum gave me a painting of Diana Yellyface, the death's head moth Skelton Yawngrave character. This will prove useful when I go to another school next month. A long hot drive home not listening to Chris Squire. Half of southern England decided it wanted to visit Brighton today, so the roads were very busy on the way home. Lorraine's arm caught the sun through the car window. A quiet and reflective afternoon. Calliope pleased to see me, running half the length of the twitten miaowing at me happily. I paused to stroke it and say my usual cat endearments, at which I heard a snickering from behind my neighbour's fence. A really watchable BBC documenta...

Chips with Hitchcock Hot sunny day here in Brighton. Sat typing at my desk for a few hours in my dressing gown before I decided that I had to be doing something a bit more physical. Spent a happy couple of hours scraping flaking paint from the windows downstairs, and giving them a new lick of paint. In the afternoon made off to my usual cafe where, supping an Americano, I had an excellent idea for one of the last poems to go in the collection. Excited by this, I hurried home to work on this again for a couple of hours. When Lorraine came we decided to sit on the pebbly beach, in the orangey pink evening light, and eat some fish and chips. This sounds idyllic but we were surrounded by Hitchockian seagulls beading us with their mad yellow eyes, and crowding too close. We'd already seen a few minutes earlier a seagull swoop down to a table and grab a half-eaten pizza and, finding it too big to flap off with, tore wildly at its cheesy topping. There are two tribes in Brighton, as I hav...