under another sun

Up after the sleep of the dead, feeling heavy and exhausted.  Reading The Sound and the Fury on the train to work, got off at Victoria and felt a bit peculiar and panicky for a few moments but pressed on  to work.  The day's work went well however. It's a bit of a slog but on a really interesting project where artists have collaborated with people with medical conditions to produce art pieces. Enjoyably listening to the guardian football podcast on the way home. As Lorraine was training governors again,I popped into Sing Li as I couldn't be bothered to cook. Klaudia's little friend (whose mum and dad own the place) said hello to me. Her dad always remembers me too, which feels nice. Walked back through the station full of shouting football fans, and scarfed fish and chips at home very grateful to be there. Several small moths flying about. Worrying.

Moths again Sunday, so it must mean work. Locked myself away for several hours writing a lengthy presentation about things called infomedia booths. Noticed as I did so that there seems to be lots of moths in my house. A week or so ago I saw one or two lurking in my wardrobe wiping their mouths on the backs of their hands, and so bought a hanging moth repeller. Perhaps it is my own fault for writing a poem called The Moth Display this year, and lurking in the Booth museum ghouling at their boards of dead pinned moths. They have put their weird feathery heads together and decided to move in as punishment. Then once I could stand no more of writing about infomedia booths, Lorraine called by, listening to Muse in her car. She likes rock music generally, as opposed to the diverse and lofty stuff I favour. We drove off to the sea, which was green and choppy, and full of white horses and people windsurfing, and para surfing and generally being hairy chested and manly. I boldly took my shoes ...

Flint and moth An excellent day. Did some business-type stuff this morning, then talked to Mum at some length about a wheeze we are working on together which mainly involves her doing some painting while I spin idly around in my chair. Also during the morning I sent the pictures of the flint scraper to the local museum, and was invited round to show them, as the Booth Museum is only a short walk away from where I live. Mad place, featuring the collection of one Edward Thomas Booth, whose blatant ambition was to slaughter and stuff every last species of British Bird. Fine examples, as the museum would have it, of The Victorian Art of Taxidermy . A quirky and fascinating place, and well worth a visit. So I walked past all the baleful cases of dead birds, to have a conversation with a bearded man called Jeremy. Stifling a yabadabadoo! I held out my stone age scraper. Sadly, after peering keenly at this artifact with his magnifier, he said it was a piece of flint. Although perfectly shape...

Matty, Mum and Moths Early into work this morning to urgently write a brochure. Once this was done however, today was much improved, and I don't feel so trapped. And this was distinctly helped by deciding to take next Monday and Tuesday off to start, with Anton, our mysterious dragon quest walk. Mum contacted me today with some important moth news. Apparently the moth we encountered last year on Sark was a Euproctis Similis commonly known as a yellow tail, or (in Sweden) a körsbärsrödgump . It also has irritating hair, but that's not something confined to moths. She also sent me several photos of her paintings (in the "money making" style). There is a handy tool on Corel Paint Shop pro which I have in my laptop, that can correct the perspective of the photos. Sadly I can't put any of these pictures on my site as they have been embargoed. In the evening I went to the new look Distillers to meet Matty boy. He was looking whippet-lean and healthy as a consequence of...