under another sun

Home again Narcoleptic start to the day. Luckly I had not been coughing too much last night. John and Sue had so successfully created a relaxing atmosphere that I slept for hours. Lorraine doing some work in the morning on her headship course. I finally emerged, after fiddling with a poem and then needing another lie down, to a lovely seafood pasta. In Sue's guest room there are curtains with patterns on them in which faces emerge if you look at them long enough and this began a chain of thoughts which started me writing, which I haven't done for ages. Then we drove off with Sue and John to have a quick lurk about in Kiftsgate Court Garden. Sue and John's splendid teenage daughters Harry and Maite both have a Sunday job there in the cafe, but John had to drive Maite home as she wasnt' well. Enjoyed some freshly made lemonade before dropping Sue back at her parent's house, who we had also met at the gardens. Sue's dad is 80 and likes nothing more than setting off...

Among gardens Dreams about trying to break into a safe in an attic. It was covered in graffiti in Cyrillic lettering, but I ran out of time, and had to pack away my belongings quickly before being discovered. The attic was somehow connected to a library. At one point I looked out of the attic window and saw The French Bloke in the back seat of a coach. All tremendously significant seeming, even when I woke up. Interestingly the French Bloke, who I have not seen or spoken to for several months called me today. A burst of torrential rain this morning but the day finally brightened up a bit, bright patches and windy. John drove us to two gorgeous houses with gardens. One was Hidcote national trust garden, purring with woodpigeons and thick with lovely scents. The other was called Kiftsgate Court Garden built on a hill, where Sue and John's daughter Harriet works in the house cafe. Wandering in these gardens made me feel happy. One moment standing under a tree at Hidcote, looking at so...