under another sun

Up at dawn this morning, and a quick shower and then finishing the first edit of the podcast, which I then sent to Robin to review. Much to my delight we managed to get the podcast up on time today, with Robin doing a final edit. Then at 8:30 back with Keith slogging till an afternoon presentation and a later meeting. However, the work was done, and Pat released me gently back into the wild. Enjoyed working with Pat and Michel again but at the end of the day I was mightily relieved to be done, the job finished satisfactorily, the podcast up, and finally a bit of time just to be in Seaford in my new home. Chatting with Mum after work. Ben was round helping them set up the new television they bought today in Borehamwood to replace the lightning-fried one. All rather dramatic but they are both okay, luckily.  Rosie and Innis came around today. Sadly, as I was working, I was only able to spend a bit of time with them -- they were liking the new house lots, and brought me a late birthd...

I spelt fairly well again last night, sleeping most of the night for the first time in a couple of weeks. It is Friday... Keith and I finished one job with Pat and the French Bloke, and Perky today, and will be doing another next week. Everything went well however, and people pleased with what had been done. Lovely to be working with such old pals. Very drained by the end of the day.  After work Lorraine -- who had been heroically sorting stuff out in the house all day, and I hurried off to Trawlers to meet Yvonne and Brian where we had a meal of very nice fish and chips again, but this time with a bottle of beer. Really enjoyed seeing them, and after we paid (some confusion here as I paid for everything and Yvonne assumed I had just paid for Lorraine and I and gave the man some cash who gladly accepted it as a humongous tip.  We walked back to our place, with a woman opening a door of the pub to kiss Brian through it. Brian (and I) were quite tempted to go in, as it look...

Another day at the conceptual coalface with Keith. Began to work through some of the difficulties we had run into yesterday, and then presented them on at lunchtime. Turns out the client had moved the goalposts somewhat and this became a bit of a re-brief, which we worked at without cracking it for a few hours. Last thing another meeting with Pat and Michel and a long discussion from which we all emerged with a new direction, which Keith and I are going to progress tomorrow. Working all day on this, without going out or thinking about much else.  Heard from Katie that she was reading Bleak House too. A short fifteen minute walk in the cold at six, and then cooked and Lorraine came home, and we lounged on the gold sofa for a bit watching Sherlock, a series I had not really watched much the first time around. And so to bed. Reading a bit more of S.T. Joshi in bed. He seems to think being dismissive and savage makes him a good critic. It doesn't.

Dreaming about owning some kind of moped last night, and was delighted with the novel idea that it could take me places. The dream was set in London and several years ago. I showed it to a dream Michel, and the French Bloke was surprisingly impressed with it.   Lorraine back to work. But started working on poetry and toying with the idea for a new short story which flowed nicely. The wind slightly taken out of my sails with a rejection of Diabolus in Musica from The Fiction Desk, who I was trying out as they publish ghost stories and wanted fiction about music. I was a bit dubious about them before I sent it, and despite receiving the friendliest of generic rejections, I shan't be submitting to them again. Visited Charlotte's blog again , and she has a link to a wonderful talk by Brené Brown called The Power of Vulnerability .  Vulnerability is not something to be avoided. When I interviewed her she said she was trying to write from a place of honesty. This of course exposes y...

Hot as anything. Working outside this morning as well as in my office. Still on the short story, and some work on my new secret project with Robin. Strolled into town at lunchtime and met up with Chris Williams, we got a coffee (an iced coffee for me) and sat in New Road opposite the Theatre Royal chatting in a socially distanced way. Chris is a born traveller, and was telling me about some of his trips, such as walking on Indonesian Volcanoes, and a recent scary encounter with a rhino. Mooched home in the heat through Preston Park, lots of young folks there and a gleeful feeling of the end of lockdown. I noticed a girl wobbling on a tight rope (The French Bloke told me it was really called a slack line) and it seemed a fitting image for Blighty at present. Drank some beer outside in the heat tonight, having a nice chat with my lovey wifey. Below, park scenes. I'm all about the black and white at the moment.

Jaded this morning, but continuing with the sequel to Magnificent Grace codenamed Grace 2 at the moment. Just bits and pieces of scenes at the moment but it is wonderful to be back in that space. I have been asked to visit a nearby school in Brighton, and talk to around 240 nippers, and hopefully sell them quite a few books. I was offered a job that would take eight days this morning, and had a brief glimpse of being on top of my day to day finances. Snatched away, sadly, as their budget was a tiny -- I would effectively have been working for free for five days so had to decline. The French Bloke called me this afternoon to chase some amends I had been given on Monday. I had done it on Monday evening, and sent it there and then. But it had languished in their spam folders. Then sent me some feedback on a smidge of stuff to do tomorrow. Went for a walk into town to buy a card for Lorraine and do some shopping. Passed a bloke with a facemask in what is the coronavirus capi...

Was thinking about the via negativa and St John of the Cross on the way to work this morning. For it is only once you have given up any hope or expectation that a train to Hampton will arrive will a train to Hampton arrive, albeit slightly delayed. A fine end to the week. Arrived at the agency on time. Had another nice day, Keith was there, and Pat and the French Bloke and Perky and working with Carolyn, a very pleasant account person. It was in the afternoon that I had one of the best calls of my writing life, when I spoke to young Elijah  Max and the FB's exceptional son. He wanted to talk about Magnificent Grace, and we chatted for about twenty minutes. He loved the book, and I was tremendously cheered by his response. He found it funny, and loved the way it combined magic and politics and generally gave me feedback that made me feel that someone had read the book and completely got it. Wonderful feeling of vindication. Also spoke to Max, who it was lovely to chat to her too....

I was thinking about Zen Buddhism on the way to Hampton this morning. The Shepperton train to Hampton was again cancelled but instead of raging about it, I was suddenly aware of the Buddhist notion of the gateless gate.  It crystallised as: the way to reach Hampton is not to travel to Hampton. Armed with this clarity, I was able to reach Hampton by travelling to Hampton Court station on the other side of the river, and simply walk. Obviously the Hampton Court train was delayed too, as the trains were passing through quite thick fog.  However, I was only slightly late to arrive. A pleasant day today. Pat had brought in his Staffordshire terrier called Alice, it having had an operation recently removing something nasty from its face, and this thing barged happily about the office. At lunchtime I accompanied Pat as he walked about Hampton with Alice. At one point a charming young woman sitting on a bench fell on Alice, and chatted happily to Pat.  Afterwards I asked Pat ho...

An email from the Tobster this morning about a possible visit to Canada, and an email from a Polish poet called Michal asking me to review his pamphlet. Revelling in the luxury of not travelling this morning as I had been given a pile of copy to write, and was able to do it from home. So no hateful three hours of delays and cancellations. I had done three hours work by 10:30. Only one stressful interlude which was failing to join a videoconference. The FB called me afterwards, and I showed him the inside of my ear, until he explained that he had FaceTimed me. Finished at five, and FaceTimed Mum, cooked a shepherd's pie of sorts with a turkey mince which was lapped up by Lorraine and Betty. A tranquil evening.

Woke up early, and alone, apart from cats. Up and off to Preston Park. A nightmarish journey to Hampton followed. My train was cancelled, then the next one delayed, and standing room only. At Clapham Junction the train to Hampton was cancelled, waited half an hour and so was the next one. A railway employee explained that the trains often simply skip Clapham Junction. Caught a train to Kingston, and then caught a bus. Sitting on the bottom deck I misjudged where I was and leapt out, already half an hour late, and found I had a mile to walk. Seething and wretchedly late by the time I arrived at the agency. It had taken three hours door to door. Once in the agency, all was perfectly pleasant. Nice to see the French Bloke, and Keith, Perky and others. The FB telling me that he had bought himself a plasma cutter recently. Made me laugh that he and I live in such utterly different worlds. A saunter to the bakery with Keith at lunch, and worked happily till it was time to slip off. His ...

All up with the larks in Kenny Towers. I sauntered down to Preston Park, and tried to buy a season ticket with the nice lady in the ticket office insisted cost £165. Computer says no. I refused to buy it saying I had got it for much cheaper before and got a single instead. Tweeted Southern rail to ask what it should cost, and was told £105. Turns out I did not actually need a weekly ticket in the end once I learned I would be working at home on the project on Friday and Monday. But the fact that buying a simple weekly ticket at the right price is too much of an ask is quite damning. To Hampton then, mercifully without further incident. Pat updating me on the latest goings on riverside with the swans and other waterbirds. Mallards drown each other apparently. It's all red in web and beak down there. Keith and I were briefed this morning. The agency were all off for their summer party in the afternoon. The French Bloke wandered in towards the end and asked me if I wanted a pint. I ...

With some trepidation headed off to Hampton again. A slight delay but nothing dramatic, thank God. Showed Pat the stuff I had worked on in the train this morning, drew it up and walked with Pat to Waitrose to buy a bite for lunch, and then, after a few conversations, I was done by early afternoon. Fond farewells with my Hampton pals and I was released back into the wild. The FB on vegans: ‘why would anyone voluntarily put themselves at the bottom of the food chain'. Very happy to be homeward bound. Got off the train at Brighton, and headed to The Basketmakers, where I had an emotional encounter with a pint of lager.  I met Lorraine and we mooched off to the Dorset to meet some of my new pals from stained glass: Yvonne, Adele, and Sally, with their respective husbands, Brian, a lovely emotionally intelligent man, Patrick a singer of Opera and writer of music, and Marek an architect. Had an unexpectedly great night out as the other halves all turned out to be excellent, thoroug...

Up at six thirty, and off to Hampton. Lorraine had prepared a lovely lunch for me, which I discovered later I had left in the kitchen at home. The office at Preston Park closed, forcing me to buy a day return instead of a weekly pass. There was a ticket inspector on the train, and he told me to get it swapped at Clapham. At Clapham, they couldn't swap it, and to try Victoria. Obviously completely out of my way. Bought a coffee and went to my platform. All trains delayed, then mine cancelled completely. The train only comes once every half an hour. The next one greatly delayed, so that I spent 75 minutes on the platform stressed, and becoming hideously late. Cancellations, we were told, due to 'congestion'. In my ignorance, I had thought the idea of trains was that it eliminated congestion. On the back of waiting for 27 hours for a plane over the weekend, this was really frustrating. Work fine, once I got there. Walked off to Waitrose with Pat, and the French Bloke and P...

A dead to the world six hours of sleep, then set off for London. Felt quite springy and cheery walking down to Preston Park. Up to Clapham Junction, then across the platform for a half hour's ride to Hampton. Good to see old work buddies again, The old French Bloke, happily all stabilised after a heart op, Pat and Perky. Spent all morning discussing the pitch they will make on Friday, and absorbing lots of information about the product related to the microbiome in your gut. At one point I learned about probiotic yoghurts and so on. Apparently very little, if any, of the supposedly good bacteria gets beyond your stomach and survives where it is supposed to do you good. Feeling tired and braindead from time to time. I have barely been home. A quick chat with Mum at lunch, standing by the river. Went to the Jolly Coopers with Pat and Michel at lunch. The FB lately a thoroughly reformed character, drinking soda and lime, which I joined him in. Pat came in a few minutes later and ha...

A poor night's sleep, although it did have a couple strikes of lightning nearby around midnight. Up to Hampton this morning, managed to tweak my back evilly just before I left home, and so spent the day loping unable to straighten my back, which made having to stand in a crowded train all the way to Clapham Junction somewhat tiresome. From Clapham to Hampton, able to sit and listening to The Exorcist. Where I loped along the streets to Pat, the French Bloke and Perky's lovely riverside office. The place full of friends, Keith was there too who came over and gave me a hug, and great to see Max, who was sitting on Michel's desk. Pat and Michel then briefed myself and a designer called Shadric in their new downstairs place, with the river virtually lapping up against it. Shadric is from Brighton, and we spent rest of the day getting to grips with it. We were released back into the wild at around 4:30 and will be working from home on it, and I Shadric and I will work together...

So off to Hampton today, (standing room only from Preston Park obvs.) where I had a lunchtime meeting with The French Bloke and Pat. I was early, so sat in a cafe and had a cup of tea and a bacon roll for £4. Then I ambled off to sit by the river where I sat for ten minutes in the unseasonal November sun and looking at waterfowl. Then into the agency, chatted with various folks, and then Michel took me to a pub called The Jolly Coopers which dates back to the 18th Century. Enjoyed catching up with Michel and then Pat, and I talked them through a powerpoint presentation of the thinking I have been doing about waiting rooms. They seemed quite intrigued and positive, and we will talk more about it. By the time the train had come at Hampton Station it was already 3:30pm so I made off to Kings Cross. Here I idled by walking around the area and having a lengthy coffee and blueberry muffin before going to Housman's radical bookshop for the launch of An Outbreak of Peace . We heard fou...

Both up at six this morning, as it was Lorraine's first day with children in the school. I had a good day, continuing to ease myself back into productivity, writing two of my new short poems before 8am, which I was rather pleased with, then getting on with some work for Pat and the French Bloke till mid afternoon. Had to summon enthusiasm from the January ether somehow, but once I got going it wasn't too bad, helped by a 45 minute walk at lunchtime to blow off the cobwebs. I cooked for Lorraine and we had a relaxed evening.

Off to Hampton this morning. A bit of train kerfuffle, trains cancelled and went on autopilot Victoria instead of Clapham, but all was well in the end. Basically spent the day with several of my old muckers. Went to the French Bloke, Perky and Pat's agency in Hampton by the river. Keith was there too, and I shared a desk with him. Briefed on the job by the FB sitting on a bench in the cold looking at the river. Michel interrupting himself by saying Oh look, a grebe!   Walked off to buy a pie with Pat and Keith at lunchtime from a shop in Hampton village. A saunter back. In the afternoon the FB strapped his headphones on and began squeaking his motorbike leather clad leg as he began to listen to some unknown tune. I mentioned to the others that it sounded like a teenager's bedroom, and a few of us snickered somewhat as the FB manfully squeaked on. Everyone left he agency quite early, and Keith gave me a lift to Kew in a nice little MG sports car, we  were laughing like dr...

Typically, the day of the week I had to work in London, was the day Lorraine's chesty cold got the better of her, and she worked from bed all day, getting up to make a delicious chicken and mushroom pie for my return. Also a rather beautiful and warm day. I set off at seven to travel to Hampton, on the Thames, to work for a day with The French Bloke, at the FB and Pat's agency. Pat is on hols in France at the moment, which is why I was needed. Keith was doing a spot of freelance there too, and it was good to see him. The FB and Pat working with John Perkins, another old pal of mine. Their new colleagues Joe and Carolyn too, both really nice. Carolyn grew up in Orkney. Their office is part of an old boat house, and so backs onto the river. A gorgeous view. Underneath them is a loquacious Kiwi artist , and at one point Joe, the FB and I walked down to the steep stairs to the little jetty. This is patrolled by all kinds of water fowl, swans, geese, ducks, cormorants and more. Th...

I have set my face against camping ever since an unspeakable family camping holiday in Devon in 1976. Our tent was very pleasant, for a tent. After we lurched into bed we found the airbed was slightly on a slope, and after a few hours of sliding off the airbed onto our heads Lorraine had the brainwave that it might be a better idea to have our pillows at the other end. This, plus the effects of a good deal of alcohol, a cold night and all the sliding meant I barely slept at all. We did have a strangely romantic walk to the toilets through the dew sodden grass in the early morning light with the landscape looking beautiful at six in the morning. Despite a distinct absence of bounce (which turned out to be a widespread phenomenon among co-revellers) Lorraine and I enjoyed the day very much. Down to the barn again, where restorative buns full of bacon sausages and eggs, and mugs of tea and a good deal of talking. A lull in the middle of the day, Lorraine slept and I had a lovely chat wi...