under another sun

Not a very productive day. But off to the gym. Walked through the deadness of Brighton Station, as it was another strike day. Most of the station was fenced off, which made me wonder if they were expecting trouble. Police hanging about too. Also started using a mindfulness app on my phone, which prompts me to take a ten minute meditation break every day. Have been doing it for three days now, and I really like it. In the evening Beth cooked and when Lorraine got home, we decorated our tree and room a bit. Beth said she wasn't feeling well and had tinselitis. Below Brighton station, and our Christmas tree in progress.

Monday, and raining. Off to the gym this morning, to do something about my festive plumpness. Then home before going off to London. Trains are utterly diabolical at the moment, Preston Park ominously deserted, with signs about disruption and strikes (all blamed on the union and not mentioning the world's most incompetent railway company, and the world's most incompetent secretary of state for transport Chris Grayling of course). Travel hard to impossible on any day this week apart from today and Thursday -- when I will go up to see Mum and Mas again. Spoke to Mum and it sounds as if they are going to give Mas a pacemaker because he is not recovering and is still in intensive care. Apparently he is the person who holds their record for being in intensive care after a triple bypass. Otherwise by judicious choices, I managed to get to Chiswick with only three trains. Walked to the City barge along Strand on the Green, passing Isis Court where I once lived, and felt pleasantl...

A lift from my baby down to Preston Park. Southern Fail on strike this morning, so the rail networks troubled only by a few hardy commuters. My train to St Pancras, however, was on time, sparsely populated and a better service than usual. Finally got our brief early this afternoon. By which time I was feeling sore throaty and ill, making dredging up enthusiasm and bright ideas less easy. I’d managed to squeeze in some work for my French client in the lunch break and on the train in the morning. Happy to leave this evening as Fernanda was firing on all cylinders and all I wanted to do was creep home.   Fairly easy journey back. Called Mum as I walked home. Discovered that Beth was watching Spain versus Croatia, a fact she was so surprised about that she WhatsApped me a picture of the TV. Lorraine back from pilates, a spot of chicken and salad with new potatoes, then the pair of us repaired rapidly to bed.