under another sun

A night of vivid nightmares. I think my subconscious is still catching up with me not working, as they all seem to be nightmare work scenarios. Got to 'work' on my poems this morning, and fairly pleased at my productivity. Lorraine off to see Pat and Maureen this morning and then to spend time with Beth and Enzo this afternoon.  I made time to catch up on the football news, and it all rather astonishing. Chelsea had been part of the Club World Cup a four year competition being played in the US. I was rather shocked that they had made the final, but also philosophical as they were playing PSG of Paris, widely regarded as the best club in the world at the moment. Woke up to confusing news... Chelsea had thrashed them 3-0. Brilliant. Almost as good as the expression on Palmer's face as Trump inserted himself into the presentation ceremony. At noon I zoomed into the gym, and made amends for some of the excesses of the weekend. These days I listen to nothing while on the cross t...

Lots to do and not much energy.  Various emails and messages and thinking about the reading tomorrow and Robin's book launch and started the editing the Richard Scott interview.  Lorraine and I drove off to Beth's to collect our strimmer, and I cut the unruly lawn using this and the manual lawn mower and cleaned the pond filter and did lots of laundry and other housework. On Saturday there is going to be a Baby Shower for Beth at our house, with lots of guests so things have to be got straight. Lorraine busy completing the 'secret project' she has been doing.  A doze this afternoon for half an hour, while listening to a podcast about Robert Aickman. It's making me want to read his brilliant 'strange stories' over again. Reading them for the first time a few years ago,  inspired me to write more stories.   In the evening Lorraine and I listened to Adele's interview on Crozier's creatives, talking about stained glass, and she also chose a track from Pa...

As forewarned the work that was supposed to start today did not. However I pressed on with the horror story. Then went to the gym in the afternoon. Listened to my final and rather disturbing Robert Aickman story, Into the Wood, about a sanatorium for insomniacs set in the Swedish forest. I have now read four volumes of his short stories. I admire his writing a great deal. Lorraine and Beth off to Basingstoke to see Glenice. Big day as Beth drove a hire car with them both in it back and forth. I had the evening to myself, and started watching Chelsea versus Manchester United. After United scored two goals, I stopped watching. The current Chelsea manager, Sarri, is wedded to a system dubbed Sarri ball, and he has a very clear way he wants his team to play. This means he is playing Chelsea's best players out of their natural positions, and they hate him for it. He needs to go. Weirdly I received no text from Anton. Recoiling from the horror of seeing Chelsea being thrashed, I r...

Writing my new story for several hours today. Also listened to another excellent short story The Inner Room by Robert Aickman, and then went for a walk up and around the golf course on Hollingbury Hill. The Inner Room a chiller about an evil doll's house that becomes real. Gorse beginning to flower up there while listening.  Walking on the edge of the sloping meadow east of the golf course, and a long haired boy walking along in the other direction strumming his guitar who did not look at me. We were the only people visible, and it was one of those oddly dreamlike moments that crop up out of nowhere. Lorraine had a parent's evening tonight, and so was late. I started reading The Case Against Satan , an exorcism novel written in the sixties by Ray Russell, some ten years before The Exorcist .  However you only have to look at the news these days much worse horror stories. The imminent extinction of insects being just one of them.  Compared to that, horror is fun. ...

A bit sluggish and not able to concentrate this morning.  Iron discipline made me give myself a sharp pep talk, and made a list and ticked off all the things on it and felt a good deal better afterwards. Planning to meet up with Keith next week. Saw on facebook that the French Bloke was in hospital for an op, but seems to be in good spirits. I also went to the gym again, and while trundling and walking there and back finished The Unsettled Dust , the third collection of stories by Robert Aickman I've read. The last story was called The Stains and was brilliantly unpleasant. Mackerel and corn on the cob tonight. Got sent a smidge more work to do tomorrow morning for my pals in Chiswick. Lorraine doing a crossword tonight, to stop herself staring at screens. We listened to some music and I joined in, actually piecing things together is quite therapeutic. I feel I am being drawn into Lorraine and Beth's jigsaw cult. Calliope got involved as usual.

Patchy sleep last night, but up early. Another short story manuscript sent off. Contacted by Guernsey Literary festival as two of the poems I had entered their competition were too long -- and luckily I could resend. I negotiated a small smidge of work for my pals in Paris to start tomorrow, and had a bracing afternoon walk while listening to another Robert Aickman story. Looking from the hills at the grey sea, and clouds rolling over from the north. Chatted with Anton about how great his food was, and with Mum about coming up next weekend. Cooked for Lorraine. All good.

For the first time this year I managed to complete my normal daily target of 10k paces. Off this morning to meet Innis in the Costa Cafe at the top of Preston Street, the one where I meet my stained glass buddies. Nice to see Innis, and we discussed a collaboration around the Waiting project, and I showed Innis the powerpoint presentation, which I have been adding to, and we chatted about the sorts of ways that we can visually interpret that. I walked home through Seven Dials, and Preston Park. A snack for lunch, watching an Irish comedy set in Cork called  The Young Offenders , which I really like. Then I did a smidge more on the poos and kidneys work for my Chiswick pals. Then another short walk around the block a couple of times, listening to another Robert Aickman story, The Next Glade to get me up to 10k. Felt tired at the end of it, but am definitely improving. That was a particularly draining cold. Cooked a curry, with some parsnip in whose sweetness works surprisingly ...

Dimly aware of Sam coming home at 4.00am. He spent most of the day in bed. Lorraine still ill and sofa-centred, and dozing lots. Sonia came around, and cleaned and chatted cheerily, and showed us pictures of the bread her husband had made. Spoke to Anton who has the dreaded cold. Also heard from Dave Morgan, who I will meet in Brighton with Mandy for a pre-show drink. I made an exceptional turkey soup, even if I say it myself. And happily chopped up many different vegetables and threw them into the pot, with the stock I had carefully made, along with the remains of Lorraine's amazing chestnut gravy, and added various fresh herbs and spices. Lorraine and Beth do most of the cooking during Christmas, so I felt cheerful to be cooking, while listening to a creepyish story by Robert Aickman called The Unquiet Dust as I did so. Sam resurfaced enough to have some soup and watch a bit of TV with us, before going back to bed. I am feeling happier than I have for a while. Having a b...

The weather seasonally cold and dull. Anton knocking on the door this morning, having run across town to pick up his car and a bag. I was up early to plan my next steps. I worked on a bit of writing. Tidying up and making a list seems to help. I am heading for a squeaky period financially. Spending lots on house repairs, then having to turn work away when Janet was dying has left the Kenny coffers at a very low ebb, just in time for my tax bill. In my line of work, this is not a good time to pick up freelance. However the only thing to do is work at what I can work at, and stay tranquil. I went to the gym this afternoon, and had to drag myself through it. I only did half an hour's trundling on the cross trainer, but with the walk there and back, it is a good deal better than nothing. Having reached an impasse with work, and Lorraine home late, I did some reading. Finished my Aickman collection, Compulsory Games , and am now reading an interesting book called Unforbidden Plea...

Off this morning to Bolney in Lorraine's car for the school inset day. Lorraine and I presented the branding work on the school vision. Strange to be making a work presentation with Lorraine to the school's staff and governors. Enjoyed having a warm up session first, where we all played two games for ten minutes. Got talking to one of the new governors, a retired GP called Tony, who was interesting. I asked him how he avoided being psychically drained by his patient's problems. He said that you had to learn to be a mirror and not a sponge. Lorraine drove me to Hateful Heath station at lunchtime, and I trained back to Brighton, and went around to Janet and Ken's house. Remembering only with a few attempts, the door code. The house mostly empty and the painting I had long admired with a posit with For Peter written on it, and Janet with a heart. Took this back on the bus. A old man asked me if it were a print or an original, I said original. I explained the circumstance...

Hideous night of not sleeping. Reminded me of something I'd read on Facebook the other day: 'Insomniacs! Great news. Only three sleeps till Christmas.' I lay awake thinking about lots of troubling things. None more troubling than thinking about No Time Is Passing , the brilliant Robert Aickman story I had read during the day, which became incredibly disturbing when I thought about wide-eyed at 4.00 am. Up and gradually up, although I felt dazed and a bit out of it all day.  We drove around to pick up Betty and John and then drove off to Ashford to see Pat and Maureen, and Ken. We all went to a shop called Longacres at Bybrook Barn, that Maureen is keen on. All manner of things sold there from plants and tropical fish, to (wonderfully) Lebkuchen, as well as things like a Fantasy Unicorn Microwaveable Hottie, and a ceramic angler, man shaped but with a fish face with barbels. Lorraine wondered what a non-fantasy unicorn was. Home and Ken cooked a curry. John said he hoped...

Working from 7:30 on polishing one of the ideas I had yesterday to send off to mes amis in Paris, before going off to my stained glass class. I had the idea I'd have to do more work in the afternoon, but they loved the idea I sent them, so could relax. Having struggled a bit yesterday, pleased with this demonstration that I still have it. Enjoyed my class. Had a coffee with Chris, Yvonne and Adele after the class, but was called by irate plumbers, as I was supposed to be in this afternoon. Sonia here this afternoon, the first time I'd seen her in quite a while. Lots to say, and she told me about various archeological finds in Bulgaria and about a bridge called the Devil's Bridge, Sonia never fails to entertain me.  Luckily the plumbers turned up promptly, and did the job rapidly and left. Finally we are rid of plumbers. After a wee bit of admin then, flushed with success, I took myself out for a walk. Stopped to have a cup of coffee, feeling free and cheerfu...

Another tranquil day. A cup of tea in bed from lovely Lorraine. I did a smidge more for mes amis in France, and pushed on a little with the waiting room work, and did little apart from send a few emails. Went for a walk around in Preston Park, where I did most of my ten thousand paces going into the walled garden circling the park and crossing Preston Road I slid dangerously on the slippy rocks of the rock garden. Sat in the walled garden but a nearby drone ruined the tranquility. I cooked a fine bean jar today. The stars aligned and it was excellent. We ate beany bowls of it this evening with a thick slice of chewy brown bread. Lorraine very appreciative. Delicious. As I always remark about a bean jar, it is the smell of thing slowly cooking all day that is so nice too. Been reading a strange story a day by Robert Aickman . Listened to an old BBC R4 programme about him. The stories are excellent, and Aickman who died in 1981 remains little known. An annoying drone.

Unpacked the glass and had a look at the samples that had come with my stained glass starter pack. Some unusual pieces, opaque glass samples and very pale tints, and four big pieces of plain glass. Lorraine and I drove to buy a small light for the porch so I we can find the keyhole at night. Also drawn to a large Hobbycraft store next to the Homebase, which had some fabric for Lorraine, and I enjoyed lurking in there. This place will be catnip for Maureen when she's next in town. Home and I successfully drilled holes in brick, under Lorraine's adult supervision, and we tidied up the front garden, disturbing fat nicely patterned garden spiders while the cats zoomed in and out of the house. Chatting to neighbours. A peaceful day. Spoke via text to Toby marking school work in his cafe, while cooking as Lorraine worked. A very dull overcast afternoon that turned to heavy rain eventually. Still very warm for October. It was only last Sunday that we had the rather rushed celebr...