under another sun

A gale blowing in the night, and something was creaking ominously. Turned out it was one of the windows on our Juliette balcony, and not the roof which I had half asleep pictured tearing off in the night. Lorraine on a course today, so didn't have to spring out of bed with the sparrows, which was splendid. Cantering through the final stretches of the play. Should have it finished just in time for the first read through on Saturday with Beth and the other two actors. Apart from this I had a brief interlude  of feeling unaccountably twitchy, which I got rid of by going into town buying strapping so Lorraine can strap her wee broken toe to the other one.  Also get a haircut. I find it a paradox that hair management becomes much more important the less of it you have. On the top sparser bits I'm now going for a side to side sweep. Oh for my shaggy yesteryears. I swear the gents at Clippers on Sydney Street are finding the job more interesting, with more room for creativity now t...

Woke up after highly detailed dream about a colony on Mars, and how its occupants felt when the annual connecting space ship flight left for Earth. It seemed on waking that I had the plot for an entire Space Trilogy in my head, but this soon got replaced by the simple pleasures of lapping up a cup of tea. Not long up before a random northern oaf arrived from BT arrived to install our new wifi with a free upgrade. Naturally he couldn't find the place. Phone rings: Where are you? Also he unplugged my external hard drive when it was still running and asked me where the main terminal was and repeated my answer that I didn't know in a frankly insulting manner. Pleased to see the back of the lummox. A decent spate of writing, then off into town to pick up some printer paper and gulp down some fresh air, and buy some chilies. A man on stilts with a clown face walking down Sydney Street, but this being Brighton nobody batted an eyelid, even when he attempted to coax people between...