under another sun

The morning crouched under The Cloud of Things That Must Be Done. Mostly Edinburgh stuff. Outside windy and rainy. Lorraine off to school, Betty having a quiet duvet day. Did this till two thirty then met Sarah Barnsley and Robin who came to the Preston Park Tavern. We discussed Telltale Press, and drank beer, and then gossiped about poets and poetry. Not the usual way of spending a Tuesday afternoon, but cheerful. Robin positive and cheery, as was Sarah. Felt like all the good things had been salvaged from Telltale, as we move onto another phase. Got home a little after 7:30, cheery and with my top hat slightly askew. I always learn lots when talking with those two.

Woke up feeling quite lively. Finally finished the epic bank form, signed last year's tax things from Andrew, then ambled into Hayward's Heath to post them. Then treating myself to a celebratory cup of Americano in a Caffè Nero as the rain fell outside. Enjoyed a free-ranging think as the Cloud Of Things That Must Be Done momentarily lifted about originality, and jotting a few notes down in my notebook as the cafe filled with pensioners enjoying coffee and snacks. Now we are leaving Hateful Heath I find I'm no longer loathing it. It is perfectly pleasant, as I have said. It's just that it is not home, and it can't be blamed for this. It's just a town without imagination, but I suppose I am spoiled in Brighton. Home again, and working with both cats bookending my keyboard.  Lorraine working from home this afternoon. A quiet night, thinking and discussing the virtues of white goods, as we will need a new fridge freezer, washing machine and dish washer, with Lorr...

Woke up and Lorraine told me that the fuses had all gone downstairs. We got up and isolated the problem to the boiler, which is tripping the fuses. Another item added to The Cloud of Things That Must Be Done. Otherwise and unbelievably, doing more house related solicitor stuff, including more pleasantly taking a lunchtime stroll with Lorraine down to the solicitor's office at lunchtime to drop things off. Lorraine trying to get roofers to sort out the roof too, though nobody returns the phone calls. Spoke to Mum. Her tooth had been pulled, but Mason's surgeon at the hospital said he just needed a filling instead -- which was lucky. Poor Janet and Ken have been going through an incredibly stressful time, with Ken's 16 granddaughter who is staying with them in Brighton, running away for days on end and being spotted with unsavoury characters about town. In the evening off to see Matt, and have a quick drink in the Basketmakers, which we had not been to for months it seems...

Despite the comfy temperature and our own bed, back to our English grey skied rainy reality. Calliope woke me at a hideously early 4:20 and spent the day shadowing me, and occasionally nipping me in an unprovoked way for my absence.  Brian ghosts in from time to time seeming weirdly paranoid. Lorraine with a bad griping stomach, and me with a touch of a sore throat and still-deaf ear howling with tinnitus. Both under The Cloud of Things That Must Be Done. Some legal stuff on the house weighing heavily. Some of this involves all denizens of the Old Church Hall, and luckily progress has been made while we were away. Nevertheless we were comparatively gentle with ourselves. A quick drive into town for Sainsbury's and picking up a frame. Someone had broken the wing mirror off the car, so we had to hold it in place with a bungee rope. Later, I flirted for a few hours with the 400 emails that have accumulated in my absence -- mostly rubbish of course, but my computer also kept free...

Calliope waking me from about 5:30 this morning, something I did not miss in La Barbarie. Despite having not to be up in London till 11 I got up at a sedate seven under The Cloud of Things That Must Be Done but my desktop decided not to work after an update, so this flying start was wasted. Off to the Smoke doing some work on the train, and found the new agency. All okay, and an interesting project, the commercially sensitive details of which I cannot go into here. Off at lunchtime and found myself walking along Long Acre near Covent Garden thinking that this time yesterday I was walking on the Icart Road with Lorraine and Mum. I closed my eyes and could still picture it. A beautiful day though. I spoke briefly to Mum and Mas as I mooched along eating a salmon and cucumber sandwich. A slightly lonely day, being the newbie and knowing nobody. Some stir in the office when people spotted a couple making love in a room in the building opposite. Home again, walking though London and dow...

A hard slog in the Old Church Hall. Getting the sample chapters ready and working on the covering letter for days. I have noticed also outbreaks of self-sabotaging slapdashery, sudden losses of confidence, displacement activities, exhaustion  and so on. I seem to see these for what they are however, which I think I have not been able to before. When not thinking about the big project, I have been fiddling with my poetry pamphlet The Nightwork . It has 14 pages for poems, which will let me collect some earlier poems that that were not in A Guernsey Double, and aren't too embarrassing to contemplate. This makes it possible to focus on a whole generation of newer poems. Otherwise little to report. Lorraine working very hard as usual. Both of us need a break and -- thanks be! -- we have one next week. Happened upon this picture of Charlie Brown that seems to sum it all up for me.

Made a great list of The Cloud of Things that Must Be Done this morning, and managed to work through them in a hard-nosed way. If every day were like this I would be dangerous. On reflection it may be because I was unplagued by cats. We'd left Beth's bedroom door open and they slept there together all afternoon. They increasingly tolerate one another. In the evening to a poetry workshop at the top of the Duke of Wellington, a pub that I always avoided near the Twitten. Bought a pint of soda and lime and went up the stairs to find Robin, Andie and three others around a long table in a poky little room. I felt as if I had intruded on a board meeting. It was an interesting session with lots of time devoted to each poem. Received useful feedback on an older poem of mine I have earmarked for  The Nightwork . Enjoyed this very much, although towards the end, I could barely string a sentence together. Walked back to the station with Andie talking about the symbolism of the Phoenix, ...

Anxious dreams, and a bad night's sleep. I failed to press on with the book, as I find sitting among clutter not conducive to concentration. Unpacked some boxes and in one I found a small collection of old magazines I had been published in, plus a couple of pamphlets purchased by post from the devastating Richard Fleming before I'd even met him. Otherwise a day short on glamour, and a certain degree of resentful cringing under The Cloud of Things That Must Be Done. For example there was the hour or so taken up with a nice man from DynoRod who deployed a variety of drain unblocking techniques, including a long electrically powered cable which he sent snaking down into the drain. But he went away foxed, and promising a two man team tomorrow. More successfully, another man came to fix my tumble dryer which tripped all the switches when you turned it on, and so has not been used in the last two years. The man had the back off and found a wire from a bra had worked its way into ...

A beautiful day, the sun tempting through the Velux windows as I sat at the desk writing about blood thinners. Out at lunchtime to sign off the proofs of the invites, walking up the hill of Ditchling Rise talking to Mum, who had to break off after as cat war broke out. This time I am using the printers who did A Guernsey Double , One Digital and I am much happier with the results this time. Plus I know someone who works there which always makes things more human. Back home and more blood thinning. Feeling oppressed lately by The Cloud Of Things That Must Be Done, such as dealing with lettings agencies, estate agents, property, solicitors, my own freelance business, actual work and so on. Went to the gym, late afternoon, which is become increasingly addictive and useful. I am feeling fitter these days and my legs are stringier and stronger, and trousers fit lots better. Lorraine and I went out for a nice walk in the park in the evening. Felt happier strolling about with her lookin...

On reflection Mum's birthday today, had a nice chat with her and Mas and invited myself over to see them next week when I am working up in London. Both sounded cheerful. Lorraine working all day on her head teacher business, and I worked all day on websites and designing publicity for the CD launch concert. All quite companionable sitting side by side up in the mezzanine office. We broke off only to eat various leftover bits in the fridge. In the evening out to the Shahi for a cheery curry feed with Beth. This year was a game of two halves. The first half a frenzy of creativity, and the second a decisive move in with Lorraine which is a success. I now think of The Old Church Hall as my home. Otherwise a year that saw me launch a short story in the Guernsey Literary festival, stage two plays in Brighton, record a CD, manage to keep my business on track in a recession, have my house in the Twitten fixed up and rented is definitely successful. The main downside was The Cloud Of Things...

The Smile of the Mortgage Gods So up early to complete a few tweaks to the HIV piece. It was written in academic language for a specialist review, and was very clear one. When I was a student I was so reverential I thought I was stupid for finding academic language so hard to understand. Now I realise that much of it was simply poorly written. Gah. If only I knew then what I know now... One of the eternal laments of humanity. Then off to the Laines to talk a man called Peter about carpets. I have selected - flawlessly (arf) - a durable and inoffensively biscuit-coloured one. Decided to renegotiate my mortgage having conducted a displacement activity masterclass for the last few weeks. After half an hour I was delighted to be told that, contrary to all previous advice, I could keep my existing mortgage. This means that I won't be stung hundreds of pounds in rearrangement fees, and that I just have to purchase a permission to let agreement from them for £100 and I am in business. I ...

Gold sofa time Another stunningly beautiful day, the rays even peeping through the Cloud Of Things That Must Be Done. Sloped off in the hot sun to talk to helpful carpet people in the laines. I explained it was carpet for rented accommodation, and was instantly shown durable biscuit coloured ranges. Lorraine working hard at home since lunchtime, both of us sat companionably up in the mezzanine level office. I meanwhile kept running into maddening glitch with the website I am building. Richard and Dipak, aka The Shakespeare Trio, have uploaded some of their lovely tunes, and are about to launch their CD. You'd be mad not to listen to The Shakespeare Trio here. Reworking the words for Matt and my CD. Suddenly realised that the three compositions actually all had something in common thematically. This Concert concerns itself with a speaking voice trapped in a piece of music, Clameur starts with the choir singing about being trapped in a tube train, and Minotaur is about being in a l...

Rebalancing No trip to London this morning, but up early. Living with the lovely Lorraine often means a cup of tea first thing which is unutterably fantastic. Finished off a little agency stuff in the morning, and even found half an hour to play with the pastels I'd bought a while ago. I can't seem to write anything of my own though, but it may not be a bad thing to let the field lie fallow for a while, while I continue to blunder through The Cloud of Things That Must Be Done. Seized the opportunity to doze happily dodging the cough which seems to be returning. Also had a chat with Mum who was talking about flat wooden cats which she has been making, but is growing bored with. Cooked a large vegetarian chilli and basmati rice. Lorraine has a slightly OCD way of cooking basmati which I am trying to learn, though until now I always considered I have cooked rice perfectly well. Lorraine explained that I had left the lid on the rice as it was being brought to the boil, which is t...

Under the cloud Woke despondent. All too conscious of The Cloud Of Things That Must Be Done but ennervated by illness. But now that Lorraine and I are on our own it is much easier to start getting the place straight, however, and I felt much more cheery once we started sorting everything out. Any day now I am going to start absolutely loving living here with Lorriane. Sam around disassembling the mighty beast of a gaming computer, and collecting domestic bits and pieces for when he goes up to Leeds University later this week. I envy him this fresh start. After, Lorraine and I took a short walk in the park. Autumn has started, strong winds (the dregs of a hurricane) rain and a big harvest moon looking through the velux windows tonight.

Peace at last At long last a peaceful night without coughing. Still resolutely deaf, sweaty and tired on waking, but this has to be a good thing. Now I'm at the stage of boredom but finding it difficult to focus on anything more taxing than sleeping and alphabetising poetry books. This of course, a deeply satisfying activity. We simply don't have enough bookcases for my books yet. Betty called, sounding strangely like a chipmunk in the back of a bus, to report that she had survived a night on her own in the new house, and had been exploring Kingston. She was excited and happy. I hadn't expected that her experiences would take me back to my time at Warwick so strongly. I've been vividly recalling the journey up from London with two suitcases, and finding with delight I had a great room in halls, with its own sink and taps, which was a great novelty. I also recall how paranoid I was when my course started, when we were told that there seemed to be 21 people on the course,...

Aliens, Lazarus technology and The Cloud Of Things That Must Be Done Vets again, to put a new chip in Calliope who bolted as soon as she saw the carrier and howled piteously there and back in the car. What a simple idea it seemed at first to put a catflap through the glass door. But of course the glaziers cut the flap hole in the wrong place so the generously-proportioned Basil becomes lodged in it. New glass is coming, so theoretically all three cats will now be able to use the flap. Now we need to get money back from the manufacturers of the cat flap which should have recognised Calliope's original chip. Multiply this small saga by about twenty and you have The Cloud Of Things That Must Be Done. On the positive side Dawny is already busy painting and decorating in my place. Meanwhile Betty, Mark and Callum returned from shopping sporting hilarious alien clothes. I'm feeling very optimistic about the show this week. Betty and I go to meet Tarik tomorrow to discuss pract...