under another sun

Recovery day one. Our first morning in Ashford. Lorraine and I lay in bed, amid a pile of our boxes and cases, and sorted out the gas, electric, broadband, water and so on. Slowly up and a toast breakfast. More sorting of things, banks and paying Bearded Bros, and Lorraine chasing her pension people and so on, while chatting to Maureen and Pat. Lorraine and I went for a short afternoon walk down past St Mary's church -- where Lorraine's nan and great aunt are buried -- to pick up prescriptions for Pat and Maureen in the apparently badly run pharmacy. A slow long queue which Lorraine joined. We talked to a woman outside, who turned out to be Jenny Bickle, who went to school with Lorraine. A short amble through the green bits down by the little river, then home again. We are both feeling very weary after the exertions of the day. In the evening Lorraine, Maureen and I drove off to Tesco to do some shopping. This followed by a light supper and an early night.  A nice note from Cha...

Slight trepidation at the start of the week. A fairly dispiriting list for the remainder of the week... Trying to drum up some freelance, editing podcasts, talking to estate agents, starting to sort my tax out and so on.  However, a nice note from Jeremy this morning, accepting one of my new poems about memory,  The House With Blue Curtains , for the one hundredth issue of The Frogmore Papers. In the afternoon off to Seaford...  by train. A nice journey from London Road, through the countryside and ending up going through the less lovely dockside of Newhaven and into Seaford. I met Lorraine outside a beautiful grade II listed building, with sloping floors but lots of uneven stairs with sloping treads that were a bit death trappy. The other house was beautifully presented (in estate agent's parlance) but we found it curiously soulless despite a big tidy garden. 

The Frogmore Papers arrived today, with my horror story in it The Dream Home . Lots of time wasted struggling to get a speaker working, trying to connect it to the wifi and so on. Galling when it has worked perfectly until recently. A hot day. In afternoon Lorraine and I went into town and I collected my new glasses from Specsavers. One of the pairs looks a bit Harry Potterish. Then Lorraine bought me a much needed new pair of shoes as an early birthday present, and found a pair for herself that fitted the shoe rules. We passed a cafe that had little cannoli in it and we bought three, one of which was a lobster's tail. A message from Val in Paris needing some urgent help. Then we mooched down to the seaside and sat on a bench in Hove looking out to sea. It was high tide. The Labour Party Conference is being held in Brighton, and there was a gathering of Labour politicos listening to amplified speakers talking mainly about climate change, and how this was woven into the strugg...

Up with the lark, as Lorraine had got up very early to go to the gym. I got working not long after seven on some stuff for Val in Paris. Lorraine returned home, having forgot her work clothes to change into. Once I'd finished the French stuff quick walk in the beautiful morning, before back to work on finalising The Inheritor , now much improved I think. Received a letter in the post from Jeremy saying that he wanted to take my wee horror story The Dream Home for the next Frogmore Papers. Chuffed with this, as am seeing it as another sign that the horror route is a good one for me. A bit of a breakthrough. To the gym at lunchtime, did quite a good workout. Home and more bits and pieces of work, laundry and other housework. Read another couple of stories by Matthew Rees, jolly good they were too. When Lorraine home, we ate in the back garden fishcakes and salad. I had to pop across to the cornershop afterwards, on the 30 walk home, quite a hefty migraine started, and I simply t...

Gerald's funeral today. Toby and Mum went to it, and it passed off well apparently. I didn't go to it, but am full of mixed feelings about what was for me a failed relationship, and his death is taking up a lot of mental bandwidth for me. So off to work. Trying to think about money, but generally sunk in loom at the prospect. The week seems like an incredibly long time. Reading and enjoying my Julian Cope book a great deal fortunately, and it it taking me away back in time, and Cope's transparency and honesty about this car crash time of his life, is refreshing. Feeling really out of sorts at work. The chronic disorganisation of the place is maddening, and the lack of clarity does my head in. Also jobs that I would do in minutes are taking me ages. I'm not thinking clearly, which is a pain in the neck for Keith. Journey home aided by Cope's recollections of acid-crazed times. Very pleased to be home with Lorraine tonight. Had a chat with Mum and Toby, who told m...

Lorraine and I keen to do more gardening. In the tiny front garden we planted wisteria, currently a sticklike thing, without becoming wisterical at any point. Then in the back I dug up a small section piece of scrawny turf and planted some plants, and Lorraine planted pansies in pots and in our main bed too. Cats bursting about around us while we worked and Calliope got into trouble with a neighbour cat. There are many cats here and the politics is tangled. In the afternoon I worked on cows for Paris for a couple of hours. I also messaged the lovely Charlotte Gann to thank her for her insightful review of the  The Nightwork in The Frogmore Papers . Rosie then popped by and persuaded Lorraine and I to go out for a roast supper. We three off to The Park View down the road for a bite to eat, and Beth joined us later. Nice place for a Sunday nosebag, and I enjoyed a pint of Harveys while I was at it, and a good chat with Carl on the phone outside. Below more chimney pots. These w...

A lovely day this morning, and Lorraine and my thoughts turned to the garden. We spent several hours driving about inland stopping off at an architectural reclamation place run by an charming Iranian with a big dog. Some interesting stuff there. We also stopped off at garden centres, pond places and so on. In the last we had a cup of tea and I enjoyed the guilty pleasure of an Eccles cake. We bought a wisteria sinesis , plants in pots, stuff to go inside the composter to spark it into life and so on. Home happily to assemble a small cold frame to put things in. In the last garden centre Lorraine met a former next door neighbour called Adrian, who had a long chat with us. Lorraine was close to Adrian's mother in her last years, and he gave us a staff discount on all the stuff we bought, which was kind of him. Cats frisky and happy outside which maddens a small black Scottish Terrier Dexter a few doors down. Just really nice to be outside in our own little garden. In other news...

Irritated and out of sorts this morning. Up early and editing a press release for Sophie. Later a protracted conversation with her about a God awful brochure her client was proposing to use. Another call from the bastards pretending to be some kind of windows help desk. Worked on the book of course, and broke off to go to the gym, where I trundled on the cross trainer till my head got swimmy after about 25 minutes. A improvement that certainly improved my mood too. The Frogmore Papers arrived today containing my poem Cicada . Finally at the fourth attempt this poem reaches print unmolested, albeit cramped on a page with another poem. In the evening, after a chat with Lorraine, off to The Nightingale Theatre for a theatrical mingle. A small gathering, but interesting. Talking to a young Nigerian writer, an actor called Thor, a producer, and Kick a writer I'd met before, and Jules, who is trying to stage a play featuring Edith Sitwell. Additionally two guys working in the Nighti...

A poor night's sleep, worrying about the house sale. Got up at four and wrote a letter to the letting agents for an hour before returning to bed to lie awake. Up early and slipping on the desk manacles, slogged for many hours on blood clots to meet my deadline. Lorraine working at home today, which is always soothing. She and Betty slipped off to the florists around the corner to discuss nosegays at one point. Blood clots done, sent a stiff letter to the letting agents after showing it to Lorraine, then off to the gym, which allowed me to shed some of my growliness. The business of using the gym as a way of regulating murderous impulses is a boon. Later I received a reply from the agents, who have offered to lower their fee for doing nothing, for which I suppose I must be grateful. Home to hear from Robin Houghton (a new poet friend I met at the poetry workshops) had seen my name on the back of the latest Frogmore Papers magazine. However my actual poem appears to have...

Just noticed that this is the 3,002nd post on this blog. Writing it has become part of life - and curiously good for my sanity. Best news of the day was that I got an email from Janet saying Ken is safely returned home, which is excellent. A a slightly trying (Mercury retrograde?) element to the rest of the day, which was earmarked for freelance work, but the day-long unavailability of my client to talk through the new brief meant I could not finish the job. I spoke to Seana, my glamorous accountant, asking her to chase the tax office once again. She emailed me saying the money owed me should now be on its way, and was delayed because they were waiting for one of my payments to clear. I said I'd actually paid this in at the end of December, i.e. several weeks  early . This earliness seems to have created the problem. Unbelievable. On a better note, had a poem Cicada accepted for The Frogmore Papers , a poetry magazine based in Lewes, a welcome acceptance after some recent...