under another sun

Shopping today with Lorraine. I bought some gym shoes that didn't bite my ankles, and some teeshirts. Into Specsavers to pick up Lorraine's new specs, chosen by a computer to suit her face shape. We also went into Marks and Sparks for about an hour, trying on things like teeshirt bras. We chatted to the woman at the till about lightning, and I showed her my lightning app. Lorraine out with Dawn going up to Bermondsey to see Sarah and JD's new home. I went to the gym, walking through the park where there were dozens of police gathered to monitor a pro cannabis 'protestival'. There was a bit of music, and several stalls selling cannabis oil and so on. Later I read, several people had their weed confiscated, and there were two arrests. It all seemed a bit heavy handed to me. and texted Anton who invited me to go around to his house and we sat about in his garden shooting the breeze as he barbecued some bratwurst, which we had with sauerkraut and mustard. Then out...

Another pleasant enough day, and the interesting work I've been doing is going down well. A good train journey in the morning doing some good work. A lunchtime stroll, talking to Lorraine, and then I found my way to Forbidden Planet, the comic and SF store, blending in with geeks and at least three father and son geek teams. Home early and highly grateful that it was only a three day week for me. I was met by Anton at Brighton Station and we melted into Brighton eager for a beer. Followed by a visit to the Chinese restaurant at the bottom of Trafalgar Street. Mostly Chinese folks in there eating superior looking food not on our menu. We were given eating irons, but swapped those for chopsticks. Then a few more drinks arguing about the best version of Move On Up me (correctly) Curtis Mayfield, Anton (erroneously) The Jam. We ended up in The Eddy for an absolutely bloody final. A good night with Anton shooting a good deal of breeze, while Lorraine entertained a variety of ladies...

Slightly unfocused this morning, and spent some time working on the wrong file. However, eventually made some progress on the book during the day. Lorraine working at home this morning too before heading off to a meeting. I made off to the gym, then to Starbucks where I worked for another couple of hours, despite the attentions of an infernal hell-child banging the back of my chair. Also wrote to Helen in Germany. She and her daughter Katy have translated my Heidegger poem, to be exhibited at the Heidegger Archive to help celebrate the 125th anniversary of the great man's birth. Amazingly kind. Another gorgeous day however. Home for a light salad supper, before Lorraine and I went off to The Eddy, which has now reverting to an earlier name of The Edinburgh (it will always be the Eddy to me), to watch the latest incarnation of The Shakespeare Trio: The Shakespeare Heptet. This evening's configuration included Richard of course, plus Steve Cartwright plucking a banjo, Claudiu...

A shot in the dark Another large breakfast, and then a walk to the sea for mum and I, giving us time to chat. Lorraine drove Pat, Maureen and Betty to the sea and we met them there. The sea slightly rough and lovely, and Beth and Pat bought a selection of seafood and tucked in. Then Mum and I wandered back home, and the others drove. Later we dropped Mum and Mas back at the station and, despite tube strikes, they made it home in one piece. Something of a slow afternoon, feeling rather liverish. However after sleeping managed to rally enough to go out again. Off to Dawn's flat which was full of people, including half a dozen women of about 21 who were all insisting on games. The first of which was sliding a chocolate coin down from your forehead into your mouth without using your hands. Both Dawn and Lorraine rather accomplished at this. Then a game of Charades, which I'd never played before. Felt, in a grumpy-old-mannish way that I had strayed into an ice breaking game in some ...

Freewheeling Worked till 1:30 and then sent off my completed books to the accountant. This caused me to caper about the house with a song on my lips. Then I started to tidy the house, which was beginning to attract concerned social workers. Also had gossips with Richard and Jenny in Guernsey. Having selected the FW-190 I wasted the remainder of the afternoon in the skies over occupied Europe and shooting allied warplanes down on my Combat Flight Simulator 3 game. This enabled by the joystick Lorraine had bought me for my birthday. Later when Anton came around he had a go on it too. It was touching to witness a craze kindling in his eyes. He gave me some birthday presents and cards, I love seeing Klaudia's writing. We sloped off to have a couple of drinks while Anton talked excitedly about Combat Flight Simulator . The first pub we went to was staging a beer festival, which meant there were half a dozen middle aged blokes lurching about in it swigging beer from kegs, one of them kn...

Howling in the rain Rainy day. Spent the morning with Lorraine, who then got started on an interminable form to become a head teacher. After consoling, I left her to it and went home and tackled a backlog of laundry, oven cleaning and other matters which had slipped by the wayside. Also busied myself with another afternoon snooze. Knee less swollen today, which is good. I hope I am slowly clawing back towards feeling healthy again. In the evening Lorraine and I went out with Wayne and Matt. Not before Calliope had chased us down the Twitten howling her disapproval in the rain. It tugs my heartstrings when she does that appallingly bereft yowling. Met the boys in The Cricketers, which was being its usual venue for middle aged folk to behave badly. Arrived with wet trousers due to the rain, and a woman on the next table promptly knocked a glass of beer over me too. Then had a curry. (Seem to be living on the things at the moment. I love it.) We'd intended to go to the restaurant wher...

Blech! Relieved to hear Mum had her operation last night after all, and is okay although I didn't see her today. Spoke to Mas now has a bad cold and conjunctivitis. He is too infectious to visit mum. I didn't see her either. Instead, I was mercifully working from home. Slogging through the website about blood clots I am assembling from a variety of dull as ditchwater sources. I'm having to do the dreaded referencing too, but one of the sources is a study is by someone called Blech, whose name I find myself barking Tourette's style while I type. A chat with Sophie who is anxious about the business climate, having had lunch with a gloomy client. Gloom and uncertaintly is like a virus that passes through the business community. My cold has now peaked, and I began to feel a better as the day wore on, and late in the evening slipped for a late and mild mannered drink with Anton in The Eddy and then The Batty. Good to catch up. This is traditionally Anton's Birthday Month...

Pub punch up Up again to the smoke. Better day today, and in the afternoon, I presented the ideas Andy and I had come up with. Our ideas were spread out on the floor, as we'd been working in a room with no table, as the agency is being refurbished. Home at a reasonable time. Finished The Girl Who Played With Fire , on the train. Once back in Brighton, Anton and I slipped out for a late feed in the new Vietnamese place, which was fairly good, and then for a cheeky beer in the Nordic bar, which was full of people singing happy birthday in what may have been Finnish. From here we caught a late cab to the Eddy and were enjoyably discussed our footballing allegiance to North Korea when a row erupted between the barman and a drunk punter. The barman was of the opinion that the punter was a prick, while the punter was loudly sharing his opinion that the barman was a c-word. Suddenly they were outside sorting it out. The friendly woman who runs the place rather caught up in it too, so with...

Boxing clever Up this morning to go shopping with Lorraine, Anna and Brian. Lurking in various shops, and stopping for coffee when it rained. Lorraine bought bags of clothes, and in one shop Brian installed himself in an armchair by the changing rooms and the ladies came out and displayed their clothes for his approval. Brian and I also went into a shop where I could fit into none of the clothes, but where the clotheshorsey Brian was gallingly able to slip into everything straight off the peg and look good in it. Could this be linked to eating? Another large roast we tonight in day three of festive gorging. This followed by a trip to the Eddy for drinks with Anna, Anton and Brian. Cheery time, with Brian spotting some minor TV star, and as usual trying to buy everyone extra drinks before we left. Been reading The Hell of it All by Charlie Brooker , which Lorraine got me for Christmas and literally laughing out loud, with the raging verbal violence of his rants for The Guardian . Bri...

Fighting with my other girlfriend Furious this morning. I'd slept badly and Calliope woke me by painfully inserting her claws into the sole of my foot. For some reason this filled me with instant savage rage. She hid under the bed, but I yanked her out and shook her like the worst kind of animal abuser, and booted her out of the room. I could hear her rushing up and down the stairs, and then shredding the toilet roll in the bathroom before going outside. Then she miaowed piteously and unceasingly in the rain, until with another roar of rage I had to bring her in and make peace. By then I was totally awake. It was 6:15. So I got to work on French things for my French client. How much more enjoyable this work is that writing about ailments. All it does is make me want to go to France, rather than imagine I am picking at a smorgasbord of morbidities. On that note, I broke off to go to the quack who wanted to check my blood pressure, which even after waiting in the waiting room for an ...

AntiCupid So close to finishing Skelton Yawngrave draft. But still finding dead wood. Pruning is a good (if hackneyed) metaphor for editing. It can seem brutal at the time, but after a damn good edit you end up with a text that is denser, shapelier, and flowers better. Reading that Sol Stein book On Writing, has changed my life. Broke off to go to the gym. Feels good. Have been using the heart rate monitor on the treadmill to ensure I am in the optimum zone for my cardio work. The formula is 220 minus your age. So if you are a gentleman of 49 this equals 171. This is your absolute maximum 100% heart rate. Ideally to burn fat and get fit without dying, I have learned you need to exercise between 65%-80% of that, so for me anything something roughly around 125-135 bpm is optimal. As you can tell, this gym business is still a novelty. Called Anton and had a welcome cold lager and long chat with him in the Eddy tonight. We'd not done that for a while. A cold beer on a hot night is...

In a dark wood, where the straight way was lost Off early up the hill to Anton's house in my walking gear. Klaudia opening the door to me like a proper grown up girl. Both Godchildren on good form today. Anton drove us then to Ashdown forest. We got lost on route due to Anton not listening to my navigation, or my navigation not being clear enough. Some discussion about this, which came as a relief from Anton frequently steering our conversation to Manchester Utd. We arrived at our starting point for what was going to be long circular route through the forest. Ashdown forest had inspired Milne's Winnie the Pooh stories. Unusually for us we got repeatedly lost, but the forest was so beautiful that we hardly bickered at all. This despite Anton having to repeatedly consult maps and compass, and taking several wrong turns. The forest is mixed woodland and patches of heath and today the conditions were ideal. Cool but bright and sunny, and the bluebells were out in force. Anton claim...

The Blues Lately returned from the Eddy watching Chelsea miss out on the Champions league cup final by a goal in the fourth or fifth minute of extra time. At least two stone cold penalty decisions not given by a visually impaired Scandinavian referee. Unbelievable. Wrongheaded non Chelsea fans cheering in the pub too at this last minute twist of fate. Intolerably robbed again. I hate football. In other news a mixed bag of work today: some pharma stuff writing about incontinence and high cholesterol, a briefing on a little French tourism stuff from my lovely French client, and a fair amount of Skelton Yawngrave too. The Government's swine flu leaflet was delivered. Bland but informative. I think it's the only non-letter pushed through the door this year I've read, which just shows you that if it's talking about something relevant, the creative can be as dull as spuds.

All's well that ends in the Eddy Grey damp cold weather. Started the day in a grey damp cold mood too, feeling decidedly out of sorts in many ways. Retreated to working on poems but simply breaking them the more effort I put into them. Gave up in disgust. Waiting for the wet weather to abate so that I could paint over the fresh graffiti on my green fence. Much solidarity in the Twitten, though, chatted to some of my neighbours further along as I was painting it out in the evening. There is now talk of a CCTV camera which may be a deterrent of some sort. However cheered up progressively as the day went on. Lorraine and I went for a long walk and talk along the seafront, which made me feel much better. Then we had a cheeky late lunch in a tiny and delightful tapas place opposite the Corn Exchange. A beany tapas was absolutely ace. Like Guernsey bean jar but curiously thick and full of garlic, and we had some really nice house red wine. I want to produce the ultimate Guernsey bean jar...

A sustainable life Productive Monday. Up early, and did a telephone interview at 10, where I spoke to Brighton's splendidly-named sustainable development guru Thurstan Crockett, about the forthcoming festival and what's going on in Brighton. Pleased to learn that Brighton won Forum for the Future award last year for its sustainability initiatives. I cleverly (but somewhat tangentially) steered the conversation onto gulls, and explained my theory that there were two tribes in Brighton: The People and The Gulls. He wanted to go on record that gulls were much maligned. Hmm. I thought. Tell that to the one that got its thieving beak into Electra's noodles the other week. As Thurstan had worked as a journalist it made the interview very easy and I'd blasted the article out by noon. Really interesting guy. Then focused on my Pamphlet project, now called i love you. I have reworked it, completed the proposal and other bits and there was nothing more to do with it other than se...

On the up Celebrated a great morning's work, by taking a two hour walk this afternoon, heading east across the city and clambered uphill till I reached the top of it. It is surprisingly high in the Hanover area, especially near the racecourse. Then ended up at Whitehawk, which I'd never walked through and probably won't bother again. Sort of reminded me a little of the Chalkhill estate in Wembley, where my old pal Carl lived, which is now mostly pulled down. Lots of the kids that went to my school lived there and it was quite a rough place. I wrote an unsuccessful SF novel in Carl's parents garage in Chalkhill, being bitten by fleas from the rug, and watching the odd flood of dog urine come down the wall, supplied by one of the several puppies from upstairs. Nobody can say I haven't paid my dues. Whitehawk has an edgy atmosphere about it, although in the sun it looked pleasant enough and there were few people about, apart from a man with a unpleasant dog. I walked p...

A change of clothes Woke up on a comfortable mattress on the floor at the FB's house. All up and a nice cheery porridge breakfast. Little Tahlia, who has just turned three rather melting my heart by playing with a cardboard box in which she pretended to get stuck, and saying "help me Mr Kenny". Adorable little thing. Then, after fond farewells, Matty, Kate and I left, walking off in the frosty morning to Chertsey station. As we did so I felt an immense feeling of wellbeing, life just seems to be full of possibilities at the moment, and I don't feel trapped or hindered by anything. We all got the same train, before Matty left at Kew Bridge, and I got off leaving Kate at Clapham. Then to Brighton. Nice to be home and change out of the clothes I had slept in for two nights running and have a long shower. Then out for a roast Sunday lunch with Lorraine, and thence to the Eddy to watch Arsenal v Chelsea in the pub. Unfortunately the forces of wrongness prevailed and the u...

A single marigold In the night, one of a noisy group of drunken youths in the Twitten appeared, judging by the sudden shouting, to have taken issue with one of my plants. This resulted in him kicking my front door. I was almost asleep but I got up, found my hammer, and went to investigate: nothing, and no harm done. But maddening though. I phoned the police though and felt a bit sheepish halfway through, no there wasn't any damage, no I didn't see them because I was in bed, etc. etc. Woke up fairly late, and Anton and Oskar called around, Oskar happily punching the keys of my CD player. Anton showed me the map-making site he'd found which will shortly be unleashed on the True and Wonderfull site. Spoke to Sprinkles, and then Mum. Then a massive bout of soundfile work. Put in hours, and made very little progress. In the evening my pal from work Alice and her husband Mike and their baby Mia came down to Brighton. We went for a fish meal in an Italian restaurant where I had a...

All's well that ends up in the Eddy Woke in the middle of the night with an oddly throbbing head. But this abated after drugs. Into work listening to Lord of the Rings still. It goes on forever as an audiobook. And arriving at the office people unreasonably seemed to expect me to do some work, rather than simply swivel about on my chair talking airily about Japan. Nevertheless much of the day was spent this way, or working Japan into the conversation if by some oversight the person I was talking to had neglected to ask me about it. I definitely feel as if the walls have been pushed back after my holiday. Feeling full of possibilities and optimism. Although I did have a sense of absurdity on the slow train ride up to London. There must be another way. Absconded with Trace and the French Bloke to the nearby Thai restaurant for a very cheerful and chatty lunch, which help extend the holiday feeling. Much blaring about Japan over some cheeky beer and listening their news too. Over the...