under another sun

Up and another gorgeous day. Lorraine and I did a bit in the garden, including varnishing a window cill, one of many that will have to be done. In the evening Lorraine did some planting out of vegetables into the raised beds, and I did a spot of watering newly planted things. At midday, a beautiful leafy drive to West Hoathly and a pub called The Cat, where I'd been once with Anton after a walk, to meet Penny and Steve. We had an excellent Sunday lunch in the pub garden. Nice to see Penny and Steve who I'd not seen since they'd been to Japan -- a challenge for Penny as she hates fish. Meanwhile in the Cat I had some generous slices of roast beef trusting that the threat of orc foot will be staved off by my allopurinol. Washed it down with a Wobblegate cider, from Bolney near Lorraine's last school. Just once every couple of months red meat is marvellous. A Great Dane type of dog, but in grey, in the garden, that even I found it impossible not to smooth its head when pas...

Foot evil peaked this morning, and it was painful and slow to get about the house. By the afternoon things improving. A lack of energy and enforced immobility meant however that I sat on the gold sofa and worked a lot. After seven hours of this, I did more binge watching. Saw six episodes of Can't Cope, Won't Cope which I really enjoyed, being the tragicomic depiction of a young alcoholic woman in her twenties and her best friend, living in Dublin. The actor Seána Kerslake who plays the main character, Aisling, is one to watch I think. Otherwise pleased to see Lorraine at the end of the day. An early night. Read another story called Paper Pills , from Sherwood Anderson's  Winesburg, Ohio . Interesting.

Annoyingly, a painful foot in the night. The return of orc foot, after two and a half years of freedom. Not to bad a dose of gout, but enough to prevent me from travelling up to London, as I was in hobble mode and feeling unusually tired. Got up and spoke to Mum and Mas, and then simply went to sleep again. Not sure why this has cropped up again, possibly due to the fact I ate fish and sea creatures four days in a row. Disappointed to have to miss seeing Mum and Mas. Worked a bit on my novel MS, and then brain a bit mushy gave into a duvet afternoon and simply watched Netflix. Binge watched Dear White People , which was I thoroughly enjoyed. Obviously had a low key evening with Lorraine and went to bed with drugs.

An ill day. A bad man cold, achey and snuffling which sparked off a bit of gout, aka (by me at least) orc foot, for the first time since I've been on my new meds. Nowhere near as bad as before, but enough to make me pull out of going out to see the South Coast Soul review and dancing in a zombie outfit to celebrate Dawn's birthday. It was a missed opportunity to bring a bit of authentic zombie hobbling to the affair. Rather cheesed off at this. However spent much of the day on the sofa with Lorraine being very kind and rereading The Lord of the Rings from the deluxe all in one book Anton got me for Christmas. Really enjoying reading it again, and finding myself transported by simple descriptions of things like a fire in the hearth or sunlight on the walls of Frodo's house that I wouldn't normally have noticed.

Lorraine off today for physiotherapy on her back, and then in the afternoon some pilates one-to-one session, from a teacher that Tasha had recommended to her. Lorraine says the pilates person said that her problems were all down to her feet, and that they needed regular massaging. By me. While Lorraine was out I hobbled down to the viaduct and picked up a nice piece of pale blue glass we had created by Stephanie the glassmaker.  It is a pale blue curved piece with bobbles and streaks and is rather beautiful and we have put it on the ledge of a high window on our staircase so the light can shine through in the afternoon. Hobbled back up the hill and sat in the garden, reading and writing a new poem, in a style which is a bit of a departure for me. Then had a long sleep on the sofa for I was feeling weirdly tired and my foot was a bit hurty. Off nevertheless into town to meet Matt in the Basketmakers, where I heroically shunned beer. Matt in pretty good form, mad for working on...

More house business today. Lorraine and I had lots of discussions too, for it is a big move and one that needs to be got right. We met the couple who were buying ours, and went around for another half hour look at the house we intend to move into, me hobbling around it orc style. One of the joys of this house is that there are traffic cones in its front garden, and as the owner is a characterful artist and shamanic healer, seeing the place as blank canvas takes an effort of the imagination. Shown around again by Tracey the human estate agent. The house has great potential and in a good part of town. This done Lorraine went off into town to see Betty, and I lurked about unashamedly watching world cup football, resting the ankle from hell and reading poems.

Another day working at home, which enabled Lorraine and I to have a lightning tidy up before the house photographer came around to snap the place in the teeming rain. If lightning can hobble that is. Otherwise a day of grafting on a bazillion bits of copy, broken off by hobbling painfully to the quacks and arranging a blood test next week prior to a change of pills.  Glimpsed myself shambling to the desk on their CCTV system: a limping, hunched ancient fat man. Briefly sat in the waiting room next to a woman with a bottle of vodka projecting from her pocket. I retreated soberly into listening to Mark Ellen's book Rock Stars Stole My Life! which I'd downloaded earlier in the day. Light, nicely written nostalgic treat for music lovers of a certain age. I once met Mark Ellen in a Chiswick swimming pool. He was every bit as pleasant and chatty as he seemed presenting the post-Whispering Bob  The Old Grey Whistle Test .  His enthusiastic and self-depreciating style is ende...

Back on the book today. Lorraine working beside me much of the day, which was fun. Less fun is a return of the dreaded orc foot, and I find myself hobbling around goutishly. Lorraine however cooked a cake to take to one of her work meetings, and we scarfed the offcuts. Not much of a project Lorraine thing to do, but nice and tasty. Poor Lorraine off to do Governor business this evening. Having discovered some heart sinking anomalies in the first section of my project, fixing them isn't proving too hard and I am nearing the stage where I can  just do a quick hoover of tiresome extra adverbs, and outbreaks of typos and gobbledegook. Luckily the work mooted for the end of this week appears to have melted away, which I am rather pleased about. I took delivery today of two items. A green leather wallet, which I purchased for superstitious reasons, to replace a much treasured green leather wallet that died a few years ago, and The Big Book of Hell   A Cartoon Book by Matt Groeni...

Change of plan today, as I went to bed with a gym twinge in my foot which quickly morphed into a painful attack of gout. I have avoided beef for a couple of years and have avoided gout. The large real beef burger I ate a couple of days ago may have been be the trigger. Unable to walk in the morning and having had no sleep since midnight, had to phone mum first thing to bump the day I had intended to spend with her in London. Recent article in the Guardian about gout and how it is one of the last medical conditions that people feel free to laugh about.     I spent the day shunning work, instead read a novel called Stoner by John Williams  (click through for Julian Barnes writing about this). I'd not read a novel clean through in one day for many years. Stoner is a wonderful book, but the story about an unremarkable university professor is persistently sad and quietly ghastly. It had been a previously obscure work which has suddenly been picked up and become a word ...

The return of Orc foot Bad night's sleep and woke to find the dreaded Orc foot had returned: I am hobbling again and grimacing with pain and a Sauron addiction. Cramped, uncomfortable journey into work even more trying. I like working in Tavistock Square however, and noticing as usual at this time the patterns made by the autumn plane tree leaves driven flat into the black road surface. Work fine, but the trains were doomed, which meant I had to hobble across town to take a different route home, thus galling ankle even more. Gah. The journey home was fine and I finished linished listening to I, Partridge, We Need To Talk About Alan , which was very funny in parts. Absolutely loving Just Kids by Patti Smith too. Delighted to get home, and revel on the gold sofa with Lorraine if only for an hour or so. And so to bed, feeling dead beat.

Writing with a white pen Mercifully my ankle didn't seize up in dreaded orc foot style, so made off for work reasonably adroitly. Lorraine, who had stayed overnight, made me a large cup of tea, which seems in the morning the kindest thing a human being can do for another human being. Up to London and another day frustratingly, blood-out-of-a-stoning with Ken the art director. Felt dizzy with tiredness for much of the afternoon, rectified only by a diet coke, and a word with myself. Only moment of creativity, writing on a window with a white pen, and taking photos of the words against the sky. Will upload later. May has well have used a white pen on white paper for all the use the afternoon session was. Home listening to the Girl who stirred the hornet's nest . As I sat on the tube, and the woman next to me had the paperback, and the woman opposite was reading The girl with the dragon tattoo . Shame Stieg Larsson, who died prematurely, did not see what a monster success his book...

Hobbled What happened? Two weeks ago I was in robust health, going to the gym three times a week. Today I wake in pain due to the return of the mysterious orc foot, which has seized-up my ankle to makes walking slow and painful. Loped only as far as Boots to by some gel to free up my incredibly ulcerated mouth enough to eat. I am an utter wreck. I hate it. However made some good progress on the rheumatoid arthritis writing during the day. After I finished this I simply hobbled the few yards to the Battle of Trafalgar where I met First Matie and her pal Nick. We three had a nice chat, sitting in the garden in the spotting rain for an hour before Kate returned to the smoke. Nick is an interesting guy, a singer songwriter by nature, who was telling us about the frustratingly laid back approach of certain young Brighton musicians. Turns out Nick is a Cylon-loving BSG head too. Unable to face standing around in my kitchen, I loped to the Chinese takeaway and spent the evening trembling till...

Going lopo Woke up with a bellow this morning as Calliope had used her seizing my foot with claws and fangs wake up technique. Not a great start as I could hardly stand up as the tendons in my foot were so painful due to some hardly noticeable at the time twist at the weekend. The appalling Orc foot had returned. I bought some species of gel during the day, and applied it and by the end of it I was loping fluently through the crowds at Victoria station. Work okay, Betsy away so I simply got my head down and got on with it. Worked with the likable Keith in the afternoon for a couple of hours who told me a few diving stories. Like swimming into a down current, and being sucked alarmingly into the deep. Home and listening to how to meditate guidance from The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying on the way home, which sent me to sleep. Home and there was the important matter of watching Chelsea playing Juventus in the Champions League. Calliope showed general impatience at this, and I suspect...

Orc foot Argh. Orc foot returns... After twisting my foot yesterday, woke up this morning with a really bad ankle again and unable to put weight on it without pain. Much laughable limping today, appreciated by my colleagues, one of whom remarked I looked like a wounded bear. Felt tired and out of sorts today, and not at all in the mood for work which is making my head explode. Stayed put at my desk when I was not in interminable meetings. Toby sent me some excellent photos of Argentina this morning. I will put some on here shortly. Having kept my sunglasses for some months without wearing them, I walked into the agency reception this morning, and they simply fell apart on my face as one of the tiny screws dropped out and was lost forever. Most annoying. Home to a rejection of one of my stories from wretched Ambit. Will I never learn? They have rejected my work for more than 25 years. Briefly glimpsed into a dark well of rage and despair, but decided not to go there. Instead made a pork...