under another sun

Up early and off to the quack first thing to have a conversation about my blood pressure. Turns out that the high readings I always have in the surgery are not the full story. Over my 24 hours it turned out the average was fine. We'll take that as good news, my nice doctor said. And so I did. Since it was early, I went for a walk down by the sea, which was in the teeth of a gale, which turned into a lashing rainstorm later. The skeletal remains of the West Pier were further damaged, which made the local TV news. Spoke to Carl, who was talking about the tender his business put into the local authority, which has had only partial success. Strange politics afoot in the local Government it seems. I hope to see Carl shortly. Otherwise a good day's work. In the evening, after I cooked supper for Lorraine and myself, I wandered up to The Foundry where I had a drink with Matt, and we were joined by others including Irish Tom, who is highly excited by the notion of a new cooker be...

Fog on the brain After working through the to do list, I took myself for a walk down by the sea, where it was mysteriously foggy. Perfect conditions, in fact, to rage at your camera as its battery gives out after two shots. A plethora of deathless photos untaken. Then to the magic cafe for coffee and a tinker with poems. Brain foggy today too, however, so not to much avail. Tried to stay up late tonight to watch a movie called 24 Days Later featuring turbo-zombies (one of its innovations were that zombies could move very fast). Scary and it was late so I went to bed halfway through. Below the burnt down old West Pier, emerging from the fog like a kraken.

Cylon loving Frak me! Lorraine and I watched about six episodes of Battlestar Galactica today. This left precious little time for anything else other than going out shopping in Brighton for a couple of hours and having coffee somewhere. Outside it is becoming autumnal and cool. The beach was denuded of police and politicians and sunbathers, and the sea looked like this: