under another sun

A catless morning, which felt a bit weird but made things simpler. Breakfast then packing all day. Saw an imaginary Calliope twice during the day, once as a pillow and the other as a stump of wood in the garden. Carrying things made much easier without Calliope getting under our feet on the stairs and so on. Lorraine and I intensively focused and wrote lists and were methodical. Chatted with Mum, in between bouts of packing, whose car has miraculously made it through the MOT again. And to Anton, who is on crutches at the moment after his knee cartilage operation and a bit fed up. I maintain he should order some kind of parakeet or perhaps and African grey parrot to complete the look. We were always just on track, even after grappling with washing machines and garden pots and retaping boxes more solidly. By around 7pm we were done, with just a few bits of last minute stuff for first thing tomorrow. Enlivened, however, by slinking off to The Preston Park Tavern, where we had a brace of b...

Felt somewhat stressed first thing. Awake from 4 this morning, with the scaffolding boys arriving first thing.  I cleared the way for them, and was impressed with how they managed to get everything through the kitchen window and out of the house without trashing the place. Meanwhile Mum called to discuss meeting up on Saturday. And Keith texted me about the job -- as he had a bit more to do today. Things a little calmer after the lads left. Tidied up somewhat, then a bit of to-and fro with Robin till we uploaded the Planet Poetry episode on the dot of 4.00pm. You can hear it here.   Then a few quiet wins. Having appealed their IR35 tax decision, the agency I am working with has now decided I am in fact not an employee, but am actually a person who has worked for themselves since 2007. Grateful to a man called Amir at the agency. This means business as usual (although I have stopped being an Ltd company officially now). Also, the Poetry Translation Centre sent out a tweet about...

Up early as ever with Lorraine. A productive day, working on the plot outline of the second Grace book, among other bits.  Off at three to meet Robin the Preston Park Tavern. Meeting in the middle of the afternoon, meant that we could get a beer from a woman behind a screen, and then walked out into the garden, where we were completely alone. The booths were hung with plastic sheets to separate each one from another.  We had a big podcast catch up, much better face to face that online, and discussed a bazillion things that needed discussing, and did a little recording -- not to mention quite a bit of general goss. Robin cross with the fact that people are allowing fear to dominate their lives, which was a bit weird as I reached that same epiphany at the weekend. Of course do everything to protect yourself and other people, but don't let fear ruin your remaining days on the planet. The podcast itself feels really purposeful, and good to be working with her again.  Walked h...

A very productive day today. I have a new strategy which involves meditation, and trying to tune out the health related panic sweeping the globe. I have suffered from anxiety off and have experienced debilitating panic attacks in my twenties and early thirties, my panic was always focused on my own body and health. This current crisis would have to go some to be more triggering for me, I am finding that my coping strategies acquired over the decades are being deployed now to good effect. Anyway, I did a good day's work, and was cheered by being contacted by a parent whose child wants a copy of Magnificent Grace . Sonya wanted a signed copy too, so I obliged. Betty went out on a shopping spree today and returned triumphantly with a four pack of toilet rolls. She stopped off at the Preston Park Tavern and I took my life in my hands and joined her for a beer there. Talked about doing some more theatrical stuff together in the new year, after I have written Grace 2 and launched Sin...

Christmas Morning, and Beth up very early making the roast cabbage dish. Lorraine and I up and after cups of tea, we opened some presents. I got a bottle of Vera Wang for men, and the lovely satchel I had admired when we went to Wakehurst Place for the lanterns from Lorraine, and a nice sweatshirt from Beth and I got a great wifi speaker from Anton, and some glasses from Anne. I spoke to Mum this morning, who was getting ready to go out with Mas to the Romanian neighbour. With only five of us this year in Kenny Towers the food prep was fairly manageable. Pat and I went off for our now traditional pint in The Preston Park Tavern. It was like a summer's day, with people spread out on the tables outside, and the usual complement of children. Once we had been served, Pat and I sat outside in the back garden with a heater on overhead, and drank a couple of nice pints. People in very friendly mood and Pat chatting to several folks. Even the older woman who had been very grumpy in fro...

Woke up feeling stressed this morning, and my face was twitching. Perhaps this was due to Calliope again waking me at 3:30 and when I chucked her off the bed, vomited in protest a bit later. I felt like shaking her like a ginger stepchild. Meanwhile Lorraine had little voice, and was clearly going down with the evil cold Beth has had. She made off to work though. However, I found out first thing that mes amis in Paris where happy with the work I sent last night, so suddenly a day of capering about instead of slogging at my desk. A few bits to finish off this morning, and FaceTimed Mum before I scampered off into town to have a haircut. Nice chat in there, some of it around the notion of being Santa. Then to the Bath Arms to meet Catherine Pope, who as usual I found inspiring and today a great listener as I was, I am afraid to say, on broadcast mode, given to sharing my various opinions particularly about subjects in which my knowledge is sketchy. She forgave me though, and I came a...

Magnificent Grace related activities most of the day, and also doing some other work on the short story The Hounding which is taking a while to get right. Apart from my walk I worked like some kind of workaholic dog on various bits. Mentioned Magnificent Grace on facebook, and got a lovely response from many people. Lorraine home very late tonight, and Beth was late too, and she and I went to the Preston Park Tavern for a quick drink and a chat, and then were joined by Lorraine a bit later. It was a nice end to the day. A cobweb blowing walk up to Hollingbury Hillfort today, through the scraps of woods around the golf course. Saw strange, somewhat magical decorations around a particular tree, found the triangulation point on top of the hill, and snapped this view.

Lorraine and I got the house sorted this morning. Lots to be done and organised.  Bob and I had planned to meet this afternoon in London, but Bob had to biff this, as his Mum had been ill the night before and had spent the night with her.  Sonia came for her last clean of the year, bringing a big chocolate cake that she had made. It was delicious. Lorraine and I slipped out for a late lunch in the PPT, which felt like a special treat. After a while, we went home to watch Toy Story 3, a film I very much enjoy. I fell asleep for a bit, and discovered I was starting a cold.  Woke up snuffling to the sad end of the film. It is an amazing trilogy.

The bliss of being able to think and work in peace.  Did some writing outside too, poems, blog posts and admin. Before it got too hot. Cats basking or slinking away from the sun. Sonia in this afternoon, doing her bit for Bulgarian tourism, showing me you tube video of her hometown  Veliko Tarnovo . Did some long outstanding admin too, which made me feel good. Lorraine home, and rather frazzled from the week. The end of the school year is a few weeks away, and as a Lorraine-watcher, I realise this gets to be a real grind. We went to the Preston Park Tavern for a meal. The prices have climbed greatly, and the beer is expensive, but its convenience just trumps it. Weird day with no football. Reading the Philip Roth book, The Anatomy Lesson . Not sure what I feel about it.  Not read Roth before, and his thinly veiled autobiographical stuff is either absurdly indulgent or brilliant. Or both.

Bless this not working in London on a Friday business. Thursday really is the new Friday, after a busy day at work with barely a break at lunch. Coming home on the train and Lorraine phoned saying the bad thing that I had been thinking. She was waiting in the car at Preston Park station, and we drove home, then sauntered down to the Park View, where it was too busy, and then mooched around to the Preston Park Tavern and had food and a cold beer with my wife. A lovely way to end a Thursday. In my ten minute lunch break a snap of reflections on water.

Mason still in hospital. Otherwise a better day for me. Doing mind maps and just generally taking a helicopter view of my activities. In the afternoon, I had a quick chat with Sonia, who said she noticed with approval how much tidier my study was, I walked it town and sat in Starbucks for a bit. For some reason I find this an excellent place to think and work, as do many others. It is partly the place's blandness. Also I think its position. There must be a strange kind of feng shui about being on the corner of two streets, where you can see the world going by. Anyway, I spent quite a bit of time in there working and thinking before I walked home again. When Lorraine arrived home, we zoomed straight out to the Preston Park Tavern for a spot of dinner and a couple of beers. Lorraine had a good day today, with one of her staff writing to her board of governors to say what a good job she was doing. Sloped home early, and boofed happily into the weekend. Below the helpful bland...

A day of high industry, wresting the turkey from the shed where we had stored it overnight, and hurrying it into the oven, breakfasting on salmon bagels, a good deal of vegetable peeling etc.  I also phoned Mum. Then we began opening presents, which was great fun. Beth and Sam taking it in turns to be Christmas Elf. I'm particularly pleased with the year's membership to the Tate, which means I can delight in the Crane-brothers joy of going to the private members rooms at Tate Britain and Tate Modern, while non members mill fretfully in the galleries below. This done, more frenzying around till Pat and I went to the Preston Park Tavern, to be joined by Sam, for a drink. When Pat and I entered, the place was teeming with small children. As many children as there were adults. We sat outside, as it was mild and breezy, but with the outside electric fires on. An interlude of calm, then we sauntered home in the stiffening breeze to plunge back into the festive maelstrom. Enough C...

A good end to the week. I felt as if I had been struggling with my identity of being a writer, and if I should chuck it all in, and focus on something less pointless, but as Wordsworth says in the Prelude, "The Poet, gentle creature as he is,/Hath, like the Lover, his unruly times; /His fits when he is neither sick nor well,/ Though no distress be near him but his own/Unmanageable thoughts." Although the issue was this week whether I was a poet at all, which I suppose is demonstrable by having quite a few actual poems published. But this proves nothing as there is an enormous amount of rubbish published (some of which I witnessed last night). On that note, someone posted Facebook posts of one or two people reading, but as I was sitting near the front, they were also loving portraits of the area of concern, which now appears to be the size of Australia. Bah. But today it was all different. Did some practical stuff, like a spot of billing for the scraps of freelance work I...

A relaxed morning, spending some quality time with Lorraine. Then to Hove this afternoon. Lorraine and I dropped some things off at Beth and John's new flat and Lorraine went off to Dunelm Hill to source curtains and I walked the couple of hundred yards down to have a cup of tea with Ken and Janet. You can see the sea from the street outside Beth's flat, and Janet and Ken are about halfway to the sea along the same road.  Had a nice long and wide-ranging chat with Janet and Ken before sauntering back to the flat where Lorraine and Beth had just arrived. I hoovered the place, which had been left in very good condition, and Beth and Lorraine cleaned the kitchen and the bathroom, which had also been left in good nick. A few last minute spiders to be hoovered up before we set off home again. As it was late, we simply went to the Preston Park Tavern and had a few beers and some food there, a cheery night, and the beers very welcome. Below some sunset snaps this evening, ...

Off to the gym for the first time since the Monday of the previous week. Otherwise, did work on The Second Kind of Darkness , and then sorted out some facts and figures for the accountant. I am feeling like finishing my story is somehow like the orbit of some slow moving planet. I have learned lots through the process. The buddhist in me feels that I shouldn't be attached to outcomes, just focus on the job at hand. This is quite hard when you've been working on something off and on for so long. The story feels like the tip of the iceberg, in that I have loads of plot lines in my head for the characters in it. Anyhow, Lorraine, Rosie and Dawn, all of whom work with children of the target age and have bags of expertise in literacy and children's books, are going to read it for me next. Mandy in NZ will read it too. And anyone else who fancies it really. A spot of anxious cat wrangling with Calliope this afternoon. I had to squirt two lots of liquid medications into her mo...

Up late and zoomed down to Brighton station where I met Klaudia and Anton. Klaudia and I were off to London for her golden ticket day. We caught the train, and zoomed up to Victoria discussing a wide variety of matters such as the number of murderers you walk past in a lifetime, her trip to Australia, my play and so on. At Victoria we walked off to find the Wagamama restaurant in Cardinal Place. Klaudia is a big fan of Wagamama and already had her order clear in her head before we arrived. We both had chicken katsu curry, Klaudia ordering a plate of plain noodles as a side dish. We shared some ribs, and finished off with guava and passion fruit sorbet (Klaudia) and yusu ice-cream (moi). Then to the nearby Apollo Victoria theatre to see the musical  Wicked ,  based on a 1995 novel by Gregory Maguire, called 'Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West' A different take on goings-on in Oz. It was a spectacular show, and Klaudia enjoyed it lots. Even I, not ...

A bit of a sleep in this Friday, as I was staying with Mum and Mas. A quick breakfast with them, and tea before I set off with fond farewells. Tubes delayed today, so I was almost late to work. I legged it from one platform to another at Wembley Park, leapt aboard the tube, and must have looked a bit worn out. A young woman in her twenties asked me if I wanted to sit down. I thanked her, and declined, resolving there and then to shave my beard off. An appalling moment. Friday, so Keith and I in fairly good spirits. Even had a fish finger sandwich and a pint of beer at lunch together. Keith shivering in his customary teeshirt as it was strangely cold today. Home, in the luxury of my faux first class, and up the hill. I met Lorraine outside our house and we toddled off to the Preston Park Tavern, where we met Beth. A nice bite to eat in there, all sharing what had gone on in the week, and then home. Feeling very happy that it is the weekend. One more week to go. Joy! Below some blue ...

Started listening to  The Power and The Glory  today by Graham Greene as an audiobook. But it's not really ticking the Knausgaard box. Into work, with actual work to do today, and briefings on other stuff for next work. Felt quite relieved as I negotiated my end date at the current agency. I've only two weeks after this one before I am released back into the wild. Sniffing the ozone of freedom today, I can't wait. Otherwise a 'Britain's facing drought disaster' screamer on the front page of The Express this morning. As Thursday is the new Friday, we fancied going out for a bite tonight, so Lorraine and I popped over to the Preston Park Tavern, from where we could comfortably watch the heavy rain.

The gloom and general out-of-sorts-nessthat afflicted me over the last week or so rapidly abating. Work okay, and Keith and I had something purposeful to do all day. Worked in an area (they have no seats for us so have to wander about the building) where there was natural light from above, the glass floor above. Watched people's feet from below, their soles the only thing properly visible. And had a few laughs. A hot day today, and we walked into the nearby precinct and ate in the outside in the sun. I had a rather good bowl of udon noodles. The work we are doing has gone down well. We were asked back next week, but this was then reversed and I picked up an email on the way home which released me and Keith back into the wild, so tomorrow is our last day. Can't say I'm too sorry about this. Now waiting on another job I should hear about tomorrow. Home late, and Lorraine had a parent's evening, and we went to the Preston Park Tavern and had a bite there and a couple...

A day of working happily on my Skelton Yawngrave MS today. In a triumph of optimism over experience, I feel that at long last the real book is emerging. Worked from home doing this, and having some freelance related conversations, and Edinburgh related conversations by phone with Beth. After lunch I walked through the park and eventually settled in Starbucks where I did a good few hours work there drinking tea and a large Americano.  The novel  seemed quite far fetched when I started it several years ago. I imagined as a backdrop to the story a scary political movement attempting to take over the UK, creating a climate of fear and suspicion. Now it seems almost tame. A young guy I was sitting next to suddenly said, "You're writing a story! What are you writing?" as I was bashing away on Scrivener. I fell into conversation with a young Spanish Chilean guy, who was a budding writer of fantasy and science fiction, (it's always 'budding'). He was a great admir...