under another sun

Thank Goodness the French didn't vote for the fascist Le Pen in the presidential elections, choosing a weird wunderkind banker instead. A poor night's sleep, and slightly wussy with an upset stomach first thing. Then going to work clinging onto the idea that (after today) I only have two more Mondays to do at this agency for the time being. Little for Keith and I to do, other than very small bits. Feeling edgy today.  I was briefed on something towards the end of the day, that was of course needed urgently. A walk at lunchtime in Russell Square. Spoke to Mas, Mum out and then later off to The Royal Free. Meanwhile a new bathroom is being put in. When I eventually caught up with her this evening, she said it seems she will need an operation on her pancreas, as they have found pre-cancerous cells. She is philosophical about it, and I suppose it is good that they have caught this early. Still it means more hospital, which is not ideal for her or Mas. She will learn more tomorr...

I had downloaded Karl Ove Knausgaard's A Man in Love , being the second part of his My Struggle series, and listened to it as an audiobook with enormous enjoyment of the way to work and on the way home. I remembered what Toby had said when he told me about Knausgaard, that it was like being inside someone's head. Sometimes annoying and banal, but other times amazing how be can make the trivial transfixing. Really enjoying it. A strange day with bits of work to do, but the main work about establishing exactly what Keith and I need to do.  In the morning we were in the office lift and were chatting to a woman who had poured a pint of water into her MacBook, and was hurrying it down to the IT department upside down. In the afternoon, as I was handing my cup to a man who collects cups at the end of the day, a colleague called Neil arrived to talk to us. Momentarily I clipped the cup I was handing to the cup man, and a ridiculously small amount of beautifully targeted tea flew ...

The best thing about having a migraine is that when it begins to wear off, the simple absence of pain is wonderful. Started the day gingerly, and then as my head repaired, gloated Sméagol-like over my MacBook Air loading selected tunes, selections of my deathless poetry, prose and other projects onto it. Also a long chat with Mum on the phone, discussing the virtues of a MacBook Air, and hearing a little more about her trip to Prague to see Jana, who couldn't have been more hospitable. A walk in the park this afternoon. The sun low, and lots of people about in all the autumn colours striped with long shadows. I was listening to Allegri's Miserere mei, as I mooched, the unaccompanied voices seeming to float beautifically among the trees, as my thoughts repeatedly turned towards Guernsey. Guy Fawkes night, so the air was full of explosions and the cringes of cats. Lorraine stepping in from the cold   after a long day. Fairly early to bed, and huge rumbles of distant thun...

A slow start to the day, Lorraine and I revelling in not having to get up. Eventually hunger for Quorn sausage sandwiches drove us up. Plus the arrival of two secondhand books, one by Roland Barthes, the other about HG Wells. I had to go to the twitten, to let the plumber in. I misread my times and got there an hour early, and had to wait. Alf the plumber was running late, so I ended up having to wait for almost two hours. Luckily I had my notebook and a pen with me, and used the time to work on my new poem. Alf could find nothing wrong with the shower, after many tests. Then into town to go about the important business of buying new underwear and socks from Marks and Sparks and a MacBook Air from the Apple shop. Lorraine with me thank God, as the place was incredibly crowded as the iPad Mini was just launched.  I would have simply gone away and returned another day. Lorraine compelled someone to serve us right away, after being told it may take between 5-10 minutes. Lorraine s...