under another sun

Woke up deciding on a Face-out Friday, having lately berated myself on not sending enough work out into the world. I spent a couple of hours getting a submission ready for a magazine only to discover it is no longer accepting submissions. Bah. But managed a competition entry at least, and wrote back to the nice Jeremy Page at The Frogmore Press. I realised the essential stumbling block to sending poems out for publication is disorganisation: some duplicate files spread across two computers and a hard drive, plus different versions of the poems in different files. Spent hours rationalising all my poetry, refiling, categorising it. At least I have a much better idea of what I have now: a surprising amount of bilge, laughable tripe etc. of course, but some decent stuff too, most of which needs a cold eye cast over it. Respite from this interface of filing and self-flagellation came in the shape of Dr Matthew Pollard with whom I drank a couple of late afternoon pints of Harvey's bi...

Not much Eagerly seized up my iPod on the delayed train this morning and discovered that the wire of one of the earplugs had been quietly bitten through during the night by the cat. Full moon tetchiness today. Had a lively argument with Betsy at work about the best way to represent the sun in one of our concepts, and then had a good laugh about it afterwards. The afternoon was not without its longueurs and I am longing now for my forthcoming break. I have thought quite enough about surgical site infections and multiple sclerosis. Spoke to The Cat with the Hat. Pleased to hear had received the all clear after a recent cancer op.

Cat burglars and playwrights Calliope presented me with a woman's white wool glove this morning as I was working on the The Sick Day . Later I noticed her with a pair of my socks in her mouth, followed by the snick of the catflap. Calliope returned some time later, empty mouthed. I searched in vain for a sock nest in my yard and suspect her of trading socks for gloves in some cat cartel. The morning was spent happily writing, and in the afternoon I met a new friend Randolph for coffee. He is an American playwright - and it was fascinating to talk to him for two and a half hours over a single americano. Nice to discuss writerly matters, and hear about his plays. Randolph's wife writes academic books, and said "what shall I do now then, wait to die?" after getting a rejection this week. This made me laugh. Randolph's play Only Free Men was on at the Brighton's Komedia last year, and will be on in Lewes this year. He told me he is also working on a new play abou...

Orange eye It is the sign of being a hypochondriac that my NHS doctor actually knows who I am, and is very friendly to me. There was a taciturn trainee mountebank in the room, so my doc went to great lengths to make sure everything was pukka. In passing I mentioned that my eye was sore and I got the full orange eye dye treatment and examination for corneal scratches etc. while I told them about the glaucoma pages I've been writing lately. Then to the pharmacy with a baleful orange eye. There a senior gentleman was explaining that vegetarians tend to look pasty, and it makes them more susceptible to flu. Back to work on a few pages of the hogsite: a smorgasbord of ailments today from arthritis to ulcerative colitis. Turned on the radio: a programme about ailments in the 17th century. Some days are themed whether you like it or not. After finishing for the day at 4, I called the Cat with the Hat, who I've not chatted to for some time. He was very cheerful about Obama and invitin...

Pressing on Woke up at six and, as it was a me day, I simply got up and began work on my poems. Slightly dreary weather today, but I spent hours making some excellent progress. Odd to look at your watch at 10am and think that you have already done three and a half hours work. In the afternoon I shifted operations to Costa Coffee as this small change of scene seems to work disproportionately well, especially as my eyes are tired, after almost unbroken squinting at my computer since Sunday. This evening, I had a long chat with the Cat with the Hat who is going to force me to wheel out my shabby French as his Francophone son is coming over to stay shortly. He was yearning after the kinds of philosophical debate he had in his youth in France, and threatening to reinstate them here which is slightly alarming. Went out with Lorraine this evening whose kids are both abroad. She'd just had had her back cracked , and we slid off to have a pizza in Zizzi. I felt brain dead however, and was l...

One of my ideas Generally big and clever today. Sent my proposals for the French bread business off early, and then met Simon at Brighton station, from where we travelled to Croydon to meet the Cat with the Hat, who was sporting his elegant brown straw. We toddled off from there to have an hour and a half meeting nearby with some pleasant marketing folks in a rail company. I did a certain amount of holding forth, and warmed to their lady marketing manager instantly, which helped. Then Simon and I travelled back to Brighton, and we are going to meet up next week, in combats and bandannas, to discuss some guerrilla marketing. Home and did a certain amount of light faffing before going off to a cafe again to fiddle with a poem for a few moments before my nice French client called. We chatted for at least half an hour, and it turns out she was very pleased with the the work I'd done. A nice way to earn a crust/dough/bread etc. (So many bread words are money words.) My French English d...

Sustainable tagliatelle Toby lad's birthday today. I'm looking forward to seeing him back in Blighty soon. Up late this morning feeling a little groggy. Pottered about for a couple of hours before meeting Simon at Brighton Station and we headed up together to Kings Cross, and the Acorn House restaurant. All the Acorn's food is sustainably sourced and is very well cooked too. So there are mackerel and pork and lots of interesting vegetables such as samphire on view. I had pea soup and a light tagliatelle. We were there to meet Pooran Desai OBE who is responsible for the BedZED project, and a new development in Brighton. A very interesting guy, who I may do an interview with shortly. The Cat with the Hat, wearing a brown straw hat today, turned up and we all had a nice meal and several chin-stroking conversations. After a couple of hours of talking we shot off to Victoria, where I met Mex for a cheeky beer and a pizza. (Fortunately I'd only grazed at lunch). Lots of new...

Monkish business A few decisions this morning. Wasn't going to speak at a festival, which I'd been invited to, but the organisation has been so shambolic I realised gleefully that I didn't have to put up with this sort of nonsense any more. Long conversation with Mex today too, whose career is facing some challenges, and also amazing opportunities. Then off see the Mike, the Cat with the Hat. Naturally there was a bit of hat business to be done first, and before I left I popped into Madhatters to see if his hats had arrived (they hadn't). A sunny day so I sported my new Panama straw with a black band, and travelled off to Longfield in Kent. This is an area I'd never been to before, and was quite small and countrified. Mike quickly turned up in an expensive open top car wearing an almost identical hat. I jumped in next to him, and the one white, one black combination of largish middle aged blokes wearing straw hats in an open top sports car proved rather amusing to t...

A morning at Mad Hatters I am a lapsed hat wearer. I mentioned this to Mike a while ago and, appalled, he insisted on rectifying this situation. Off to the Nia cafe for breakfast. Mike charming to a waitress, telling her that she had a lovely open face asking her name, and then singing a song with her name in it. Our choice of Nia was strategic, however, as it is next door to Mad Hatters , Brighton's premier hat shop on Trafalgar Street. It opens at 10:30 but this proved no barrier to Mike who simply knocked on the door 45 minutes early and we gained access from its owner Lucy who must have noticed the fanatical gleam in The Cat with the Hat's eye. Then a masterclass in hat buying. Lucy, Mike and myself were busy passing hats between us like the Marx Brothers. Mike meticulous in his choices and there was much bobbing in front of mirrors, and discussions about hatbands and colours and sizes and squinty-eyed appraisals of hats, which he was buying left right and centre. Mike came...

Squid, mackerel, lions, hatted cats and Cranes Interesting day. Went for a swim after working, which I enjoyed despite painfully banging my knee on the stairs into the pool. After slumb'ring on the Norway foam for a bit, left the pool only to encounter a noisy demonstration about giant squid. More on that in the daywork . Lots of telephone chats today, including with Louisa a neighbour who has suggested that we gate the Twitten by night to prevent some of the nocturnal rampages. Then round the corner to the station to meet Mike, the Cat with the Hat. We jumped into a taxi and sped down to the Brighton Dome to see Gore Vidal in conversation with Andrew Marr. I bumped yet again into Andrew Comben as I did so, because I am stalking him. For some reason I'd not been inside The Brighton Dome before. A lovely venue. I must have been one of the few people there who had never read any Vidal, so I had no preconceptions. He did the literary lion stuff, and donated various entertaining op...