under another sun

Doctor at a conference today so I couldn't get my results. Foot depressingly painful again, and it is hard to stand. This feels like the objective correlative for all my frustrations, so having dark Job like moods. But I spoke more cheerfully to Bob and Mum, had a few texts, and made some grinding progress on The New Idea, and pressed on with Moby-Dick. Beth brought me home a small cupcake today, which was very sweet of her. Lorraine late home, and armed with fish and chips. We watching a programme called one born every minute about people giving birth, which was generally appalling. Sad news at the end of the day. Rufus, Richard and Jane's beloved little dog passed on. He was a fiercely loved pet, and one of Richard's muses. It feels like ages since I went for a walk with Richard with Rufus and Holly ambling along the shoreline. Here's a poem Richard wrote about him. He was a good dog. Rufus at Chouet Run, old dog, run against the ripe sea-wind: celebrate y...

Anomaly Feeling vile. A bad night's sleep full of aches and sweats. As the day progressed, however, I began to feel somewhat more human. Naturally, as I am ill, I have work. Spent the morning editing long documents about strokes and AF. Because I was so brain dead I started it all wrong, and wasted a couple of hours. Meanwhile Max had come to Brighton to be on the beach with her bairns but I couldn't get free to share my bugs with them. Lorraine, however, made of stern stuff. She was off and out to work without complaint, and not back till 11 having attended a leaving party. In the late afternoon, having finished, I went for a coffee with Cath in the park cafe. I'm enjoying having a park so close, and to see trees and smell the rose garden, and watch the gangs of children happily eking out the last of summer. Lorraine's TV system allows you to watch all the stuff you've missed when you want to. Saw a documentary by Peter Ackroyd on the Romantics. And lat...

Catnip bananas Received a note from Rufus explaining that he and his sister are not Highland Terriers but Border Terriers. I always thought there was more going on inside that dog's head than he let on. A busy day with Lorraine. Off to Top Cats this morning with Brian and the bulky Basil squeezed into the carrier. It is relaxing going to Top Cats, drenched as it is in plug-in cat pheromones. You can browse in Cats magazine, and chat about the ways of one's naughty torties with the nurse receptionist. Calliope, apparently, has a genetic reason for her willful behaviour. Lorraine brought two cloth bananas stuffed with dried catnip. She threw it to Brian who indeed went bananas writhing about, kicking and biting. Then to Hove Town Hall, where I got some visitor's parking tickets. My Twitten did not appear on their lists, as it doesn't have a road on it, so I had to point out exactly where it was. Unlike Top Cats, I was not among my tribe - all these people could drive, and...