under another sun

Between Cheese and a Mitre Working on re-laying out the CD cover today, and also a long phone chat with Sophie. Then off to London this afternoon to go to my dentist in Chiswick. More The Black Dahlia on the train. Was 45 mins early so got off at Turnham Green station and mooched past my old flat in Thornton Avenue, where I lived for a year before moving down to Brighton. That was a particularly depressing year, and I found I had blanked the street name and house number. Then through Chiswick down towards Strand on the Green, where Matty boy, First Matie and Graeme now live, past pubs where I used to read poetry, or places where friends had lived. I moved to Chiswick in 1986 which is a long time ago. Melancholy fading light, and by the time I had arrived at the dentist I felt as if life is fleeting and everything I've done was a no more than a hill of beans. A 40 minute wait in the dentist's reception not helping much. I was delayed by a massive job on an older man, requiring ...

Thinking of Spring Bad night. Calliope conducting a protracted screaming cat fight and then appearing full of purrs. She instantly went to sleep, while I lay awake for two hours cursing her furry head. Most of the day on strokes and AF. And I took another more interesting brief from a colleague I met while freelancing. Went to the gym, though was low on gas, and felt a bit shattered after. Someone said hello but I glared at him coldly for I shall have no friends down the gym! Two pieces of good news. One, which my legendary discretion has prevented me from mentioning before now, is the excellent news that Richard and Jane are going to be married this Spring in Guernsey. This will necessitate a jaunt over in April. Very flattered as they have asked me to be best man. This is lovely stuff, and they make an excellent couple. While Mick Ginty texted me today to say he is now a dad. Lucy has given birth to their daughter Olivia Elizabeth Rose this morning. Both well. Keep being distracted b...

In the Cittie Another night full of vivid dreams, and then up craving for a damn fine cup of Joe, once this and toast needs sated burned the Armenian flute music on Mum's laptop to take home, and Mum and I travelled into town on separate missions, saying goodbye at Baker Street. I went off to Tavistock Square and had a lunchtime beer with Pat and Karam. A good gossip and lots of laughs. Pat going into a school next year too, to talk about advertising to 16 year olds. Then a pleasant couple of hours wandering about in London free as a bird, pausing for a bite to eat and a browse in Foyles bookshop before making my way to meet Mick Ginty in Ye Old Mitre pub dating back to 1546. Satisfying to sit there in a busy, wood panelled room near and a portrait of Henry VIII and a real fire. One of those timeless London moments. Mick talking about the arrival of The Gintini , his and Lucy's baby due in about six weeks. Bob arrived and after an overlap, Mick left. Bob and I then proceeded o...

O soothest sleep Sleep, blessed sleep. Lorraine and I both up late. And, having ingested scrambled eggs, I had a damburst of ideas for new poems. Plus I'm elated by having a new umbrella concept for my next lot of poems to sit under, but I am going to write no more about it, for fear of hexing myself. Beth called around this afternoon with a dimpled 10 year child actress, who Beth had taken up to London to audition for a part in a commercial. Early evening off to meet my old friend Mick Ginty and his wife Lucy, who I'd only met briefly at their wedding last year. Lucy is now expecting a baby, which clearly delights them. Lucy very nice, who among other things has excellent Spanish skills having lived there twice, including a year recently in Madrid, so when we were in Casa Don Carlos, she was able to order with elan and discernment. Mick sherry sipping, but otherwise seems very happy and settled. Then briefly with them to The Basketmakers before seeing them off to their carpar...

Mick Ginty's wedding to Lucy Very tired today, but after I scored a much needed haircut up to London in Lorraine's car to stay with Mum and Mase. Or, slightly more accurately, to treat their place like a hotel. Was phoned by Wynford, who lives next door to Mum and Mase, before we left saying someone from a recording studio would be getting in touch to record some of my poems. Not sure what this completely out of the blue business is all about, but it seems quite interesting. After a pitstop, up to Hatfield House where Mick Ginty was having his wedding reception. An amazing place, and I'd never been inside it. In our banquet room were huge tapestries hanging from the walls, and centuries old portraits, where everyone was depicted with disproportionately small heads. Mick and his bride Lucy, who I'd never met, but who seemed very pleasant and attractive, were naturally having a lovely time. It did my heart good to see Mick at such an excellent moment. He and Lucy disappe...

Whirring mind Bad night. Slept soundly till 2.30am, then lay awake till 6:30, mind whirring with things I need to do. Spent much of the day dog tired, and cross referencing three documents at a time and adding complex footnotes and references. Torture for a befuddled mind. Looking forward to seeing Carl and Bob tomorrow night. And the weekend beyond. I have lots of interesting correspondence to catch up on too, such as with Edward Chaney, the literary heir of GB Edwards who the lovely Jane Mosse put me in touch with, and with Mindy who has taken excellently to writing. Thanks to Mindy there is also the opportunity to write a short Skelton Yawngrave piece to be professionally recorded for a new children's website. Richard has been sending me some excellent poems about Guernsey too. So slightly straining at the leash while slaving on arthritis and ankylosing spondylitis today. Had a note from my old pal Mick Ginty who has "recently upgraded" his girfriend Lucy to a fiancee ...