under another sun

Back up to the splendors of North Acton. A beautiful day, though naturally I didn't see too much of it other than through train windows. A curiously tranquil day where I simply went to work, worked and came home again without incident. I even managed to arrive home at a reasonable time. Stole away for ten minutes at lunchtime and discovered near the railway banks of blackberry bushes. I ate two or three sweet berries, a fleeting moment of freedom. I finished The Count of Monte Cristo at last too on the journey home. Completing a 49 hour audiobook feels an achievement. A jolly fine yarn. Home and Lorraine and I getting ready to stay away tomorrow night. Lorraine is off on a work conference, and I am going to stay with Mum and Mas. Sam around this evening too before returning to Leeds. It had been good to see him over the last few days. Was called by Claudius this evening,in his capacity of The Shakespeare Trio manager. He invited me to perform at somewhere called the Blue Not...

Cheered today by the folks in North Acton who called to ask me to return for six days starting next Monday, another big Yay!  of relief from the dusty Kenny Coffers. Otherwise spent much of the day bent over The New Idea and making some speedy progress on it. Lunchtime noodles chatting to Betty and Laura who had just returned after a lengthy night out with Laura's cousins from Dublin. Laura, who makes me laugh and somehow reminds me of my old pal Carl, vigorously celebrating her last day at her job, and talking in an immaculate Dublin accent and insisting she was going to fly to Dublin this afternoon, an idea which, like her Irish accent, Betty said wore off after a pizza and a bit of a snooze. I went for a walk in the park, which is now busily being got ready for Pride this weekend, where it will be the scene of a good deal of cavorting. Absently mooched into the walled garden, where hidden in one corner where about a dozen  teenage girls who looked at...

The luxury of being in bed till 8:30. Revelling in a quiet day where all travel was on foot. Some billing and admin before a sweaty workout in the gym. Home and a relaxed afternoon, where I caught up with the new Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer show, Vic & Bob's Lucky Sexy Winners , which in its unrestrained silliness, made me laugh out loud several times. Off at four in the afternoon to meet Anton in Tin Drum, and discuss The Count of Monte Cristo at some length before Anton had to return home to cook for the bairns. Luckily Lorraine joined me instead, before we went for a traditional friendly Friday night curry at the Shahi. Felt like a lucky sexy winner myself, after such a nice day. Fell asleep very early on the gold sofa. Below Bob Mortimer and Vic Reeves being silly.

Friday! Yippee! Getting up at seven seemed like a lie in this morning. Toast and coffee with Mum and Mas, then Mas kindly drove me off to Stanmore station. Made it to work early on the bus from Willesden Green. Work a tad tiresome. I was given conflicting priorities, misbriefed on something I spent hours on, and given unclear deadlines. Still happy to be there, and I have been asked to return for the first three days of next week, which is great news. My pals in Tavistock Square have also been in touch, and I may be up there later next week too. Six o'clock and free at last. Swift and easy journey back to Brighton, listening to The Count of Monte Cristo . Good to be home after what had seemed like a long week. After a shower Lorraine Beth and I sloped off to the Shahi where we had a nice evening, hearing about Lorraine and Beth's cheery trip to Ongar in Essex where they used to live, and saw old neighbours and friends. Below a digger in the air. The agency subject to WW1...

Up to North Acton again. Despite a hideously early start, quite enjoying the bustle through London and meeting some new, likeable, people.  The work reactive, but the people compensate. Listening to The Count of Monte Cristo constantly on my journeys. It goes on forever. Have stupidly lost my keys, and as  Lorraine went to Kent to visit her parents, her brother and nephew when I arrived home in Brighton I had to amuse myself for an hour or so, having a single pint and, disgracefully, some Kentucky Fried Rats before she returned. Haven't sat in a KFC for about 15 years. Interesting clientele on London Road. And not in a good way. Lorraine had taken Basil with her. Basil is the lovable fat cat who refuses to squeeze through the catflap, necessitating cat trays indoors, which the other two cats then use. Cleaning them is like getting thigh deep in the Augean Stables, which I will certainly not miss. However I will miss Basil, for she sat on me a lot, and had a lovely if vacan...

The 6:51 train from Brighton this morning, and a journey to the cultural wilderness of North Acton. Managed to find my way to the wrong place, who signed me in to their reception. After phone calls, I legged around the corner to somewhere with an almost identical address. Small friendly-enough office, and work that I was pleased to have.   At lunch, having bought a species of low-calorie sandwich, I stole away to the nearby Acton Cemetery, and spent a happy half an hour wandering between the tipping gravestones. I enjoy imagining the lives they represent, hinted at from ages and dates of death, and fragments of information, such as one dying in a plane at an early airshow,  or those who died during the world wars. Some in unusual languages too. Reflected how nothing other than this random hackwork would have made me travel to visit the haven of Acton Cemetery among the industrial estates. Left work at a reasonable time, although the tube was blocked and claustrophobic, so ...