under another sun

Song of the farmers Unspleeping in the airnest, so up early to work before everyone got up. Salty the cat biting me as I typed. After breakfast we all watched the end of the Seven Samurai. At the end of the film, having lost four of their number in the battle, the Samurai wander off as the ungrateful farmers sing lustily while planting rice. "Another defeat," says one grimly. Splendidly miserablist. Nice to hang out with everyone in sunny Edgware. Later Toby took the train with me as far as St Pancras (aka St Pancreas by almost everyone), then I listened to an In Our Time podcast about of early Islam and the schism between Shia and Sunny on the way back to Brighton. The history of religion is just a filthy power struggle. A dapper Nick Cave in the same carriage. Resisted the temptation to intrude on his personal space, just as he - somehow - managed to resist the temptation to intrude on mine. Much needed sleep on my gold sofa despite Calliope persistently kneading me. Th...

Samurai and Scooby snacks Up with the sparrows, and after making Lorraine a nice cup of tea, felt really odd not to be writing the novel. Nice note from Joan, who has agreed to look at Skelton, and she sent a picture of an imperious looking Lucky Jim. Also wrote to Catriona who told me she was celebrating her 60th birthday this weekend. She is very glamourous. 60 is the new 40 I think. I'm sure that opinion will be even firmer when it's my turn. Lorraine cooked us some yummy bacon and egg sandwiches, then I rushed off to the station and caught my train to London by the skin of my teeth. A complicated journey due to track works. The tube was hot and sweaty, only enlivened by a pair of glamorous transvestites, one with an enormous pink beehive in the carriage. It was a Gay Pride march today in London. Mas picked me up at Mill Hill. As we arrived at home, local man who has some sort of mental disability, who has frequent conversations with Mas about cars, wandered over and obsessi...