under another sun

An alien ginger cat broke into the house last night resulting in a tremendously loud cat fight at around 4:30. Lorraine sprang up. I dragged myself out of bed eventually, and saw a ginger cat bolting out of the house. It must have made it in through the microchip catflap hot on Brian's tail A fitful doze. Both up early, and Lorraine spilling things inside the fridge and then spilling soya milk over my trousers. Lorraine dropped me off in time for the 7:17 into London. Bumped into my old art director Mike, who I dubbed 'the gnome' on this blog when I was trying to keep everyone anonymous. Good to see him, and we were able to have a chat on the tube. Mike looks unchanged, despite it being ages since we spoke. Work okay, though it seemed I was about to be released back into the wild for the week, but some work was found, and I ended up working through lunch (only ten minutes' lunchtime walk,  chiz) and left work a bit late. Heard from Sarah B who had sad news about her...

Woke up at 3 o'clock with blasted radio adverts on my mind. Had to go downstairs, sip chamomile tea, and write it all down for an hour. Beth, and her pals Milly and Ainsley stole in quiet as cat burglars and spoke in hushed ways with their mobiles bleeping with post club messages while I worked. To bed, and nightly noises of catfights, Calliope scratching on the laundry basket and stealing Lorraine's water, next door's children crying and so on meant that I barely slept till it was 6:25am and time to drag my sorry self from bed. A smooth journey to work, and miraculously after two cups of coffee, with the middle of the night work, I was able to fulfil their insane request and swiftly wrote four good quality radio scripts in an hour. More importantly, I used The New Idea thinking to good effect. After this, and a short but frenzied burst of work in the afternoon, I was released back into the wild, my stint over. It had been very challenging, but some of the people there we...

Newts and noises A timely chat with Mike my former art director, whose grown up approach soon had me feeling grounded and less twitchy about my freelance work. Otherwise the usual: to the gym for the third day in a row (I don't seem to be much thinner, but I feel far more springy) listening to my new audio book Solar , by Ian McEwen which is typically crisp and funny. Some of my own work this afternoon. Also spoke to Craig who I am going to stay with tomorrow night and Saturday, as part of Craig's Stag weekend. Lorraine and I sauntered in Preston Park which was as busy as a Summer's night. Looking into the little circular pond by the cafe which was alive with newts. I took a fancy to a tiny one, and couldn't help thinking of it as my newt. Elsewhere even the curl of barbecue smoke, people playing tennis and football, and children running about. We sauntered enjoyably, with Lorraine admiring colourless flowers. A really nice interlude. Then back to cook a prawn based rep...

Three old friends Up to London to meet Sophie at Victoria. We ended up going to a Zizzi restaurant and chatting for hours. Sophie has been under a lot of pressure lately but her business seems to be going well. I thoughtfully added to her to-do list by giving her another CD. Lovely to see her as always. I then popped over to Chiswick to see my friend Sarah, who I'd not seen for a few years and is freelancing as a teacher, editor and various other things. We had a chat in a cafe and generally caught up in a weirdly hot and sunny in Chiswick. Getting out of the station at Turnham Green felt like stepping into a different season. Then back into town where I met Mike Court my old art director in The Salisbury. Really nice to catch up too, as I'd not seen him for well over a year in which time he has separated amicably from his wife and moved into a new flat. He is still playing lots of guitar in bands, and his oldest son is following in his father's footsteps, and is now in a b...

Secret champagne Phoned by Pat in the morning to work on a pitch with him and the French bloke starting tomorrow. It seems the Gods of Copy are still taking care of me as this is great timing. Then up to London, phoned on the train to say that my payment timesheets had finally been processed thanks to Al. I suppose I shouldn't complain. I've only been trying to sort it out for five weeks. Into Hammersmith to discover Mike Ferg hiding behind a telephone box on Fulham Palace Road. Turns out he was going to meet Mike (a.k.a the Gnome) this afternoon. I popped into my accountants and found the reason for no contact from them: my accountant is on holiday. Went into my old agency and had a chat with Al and met Christina in reception. There I bumped into Mike Ferg again with Nick, my old boss who have me a hug and told me to come for a drink with them. He is now based in LA and having a fantastic time, having fallen in love with the can-do US mentality. We had a restrained single bee...

Little fooling No April fooling today. Apart from waking up in a sock nest, as Calliope had weaselled into the sock draw, and transferred half a dozen pairs onto the bed overnight. Inert and unfocused this morning. But drew up some mind maps, which is the single most useful organisation thing I know how to do. And by the end of the day things were moving again. Spoke to Bob who was walking across the fields by Salisbury Cathedral, and The Gnome who was walking by the Thames, and been asked back to help at our old agency. And Lorraine who had a stressful day. Went up the hill to see Anton tonight. Anne is being looked after by Anna up in Staines, and Anton taking care of the bairns here in Brighton. He told me about Keith's last few days, and it is all very sad indeed. He was only 63. We sat about chatting and eating some delivery Chinese grub, and drank a couple of beers while the three cats played about us unperturbed and we listened to music beginning with the letter M.

Howdy ho London To London today. The train draggingly slow through the snow-dusted fields to Victoria. I caught up on various podcasts, and yawned a good deal as I had accidentally gone to bed late, and an intruding black cat caused alarms in the night. Calliope, with me following, chased the larger intruder out, the same one she was biffing in the yard recently. I means I will have to put the magnet on Calliope's collar and use the magnetic catflap to exclude intruders. Working today in Hammersmith with Betsy for a specialist healthcare agency. Betsy is an American art director, with a good visual imagination - and we make each other laugh despite working on concepts for a healthcare product that helps to prevent surgical site infections, or SSIs as they are known in the trade. In the afternoon we were joined by Hannah a medical expert writer, who thoughtfully showed us photographs of inflamed surgical site wounds. Betsy was jetlagged, and I was a bit braindead, so it was hard wor...

All work and no play Up at seven and at work almost instantly. Fortunately the other job I was given yesterday proved easy, so I had finished that by 8:30. It often happens this way... You read the brief and go to bed. And overnight it's all processed by a team of homunculi with rolled up sleeves inside your brain, and bingo you've got the solution to hand the next morning. Then working on the hogsite all day, which is tantalisingly close to being finished, but still needs more work over the weekend. It's like gripping a wet bar of soap. At lunch did a spot of shopping, including buying a late pressie for Anna, and a pastie which I ate looking at the sea. Worked on steadily in the afternoon. Until my brain refused to do anymore. The Gnome sent his CV through for me to look at. A great job, and we had quite a long chat. He's doing fine, and sounds more optimistic and full of beans than he has done for a long while. Sat about playing guitar, which Calliope resents, for a...

Orange eye It is the sign of being a hypochondriac that my NHS doctor actually knows who I am, and is very friendly to me. There was a taciturn trainee mountebank in the room, so my doc went to great lengths to make sure everything was pukka. In passing I mentioned that my eye was sore and I got the full orange eye dye treatment and examination for corneal scratches etc. while I told them about the glaucoma pages I've been writing lately. Then to the pharmacy with a baleful orange eye. There a senior gentleman was explaining that vegetarians tend to look pasty, and it makes them more susceptible to flu. Back to work on a few pages of the hogsite: a smorgasbord of ailments today from arthritis to ulcerative colitis. Turned on the radio: a programme about ailments in the 17th century. Some days are themed whether you like it or not. After finishing for the day at 4, I called the Cat with the Hat, who I've not chatted to for some time. He was very cheerful about Obama and invitin...

A random rhinoceros Lunchtime went to look at children's books. Imagine my horror after writing a book about a dapper skeleton all year to see a new, prizewinning book about a dapper skeleton detective called Skullduggery Pleasant. Bastards. Bastards. Had a look at it, and it seemed excellent. Fortunately the similarities are superficial, but still galling. Bought James and the Giant Peach by Roald Dahl which I read for the first time this evening. Lovely stuff. This on the first page made me laugh out loud. "Then one day, James's mother and father went to London to do some shopping, and there a terrible thing happened. Both of them suddenly got eaten up (in full daylight, mind you, and on a crowded street) by an enormous angry rhinoceros which had escaped from London Zoo.... Their troubles were all over in a jiffy. They were dead and gone in 35 seconds flat." Masterful. And also I bought Michael Rosen's Sad book which, like the Dahl, is illustrated by Quinten B...

Up to the smoke again Up early to finish some work on diabetes. Then, after missing my train through a ticket machine failure, up to the smoke again, the train passing through sidings whitened with freakish October snow. Picked up a copy of On Track with my articles in it. Working on my laptop in the train. To Glamoursmith and the French Bloke who was somewhat stressed with various work decisions. I discovered that the stuff I've been working on, is still a bit off target. So we drafted in The Gnome to help in some strange cross agency agreement, and The FB the Gnome and I went to lunch in The Distillers. Generally braindead this afternoon which didn't help my work with Tfhe Gnome. Worked late and then went to the work's bar for a quick drink and chat about the work with the FB and an earnest woman from New York. Benny the barman was there too, who I'd not seen for a long time and insisted on joining us to chat. Victoria station. Missed the train by 15 seconds. The joy...

Déjà vu and the French Bloke Up to the smoke this morning on my old commuter train, which is busier than ever. I was heading up to do some work with the French Bloke. Although working for a different agency to the one we worked at, his new one is based in the same building. Walking the familiar route from Baron's Court station through the graveyard, I fortunately experienced no sense of stumbling towards the baleful eye of Sauron. Naturally, the FB was well over an hour late. So I waited in the work's cafe waiting for him to arrive, saying brief hellos to Mike, aka the Gnome, and the Bibster who got engaged at the weekend. Also found a few minutes to work on a poem. Then up to the FB's office to talk at length about diabetes. An epidemic of diabetes is forecast for the next few years, with people developing Type II very early. After he'd briefed me, we went out to buy some species of pie in the Distillers. Things are going really well for him at the moment, and he looke...

A punchable savior Just before I woke up, I had a nightmare that I was back at my agency full time. I'm having to contend with Groundhog Day feelings about being there. But once I just deal with it for what it is: an excellent bit of freelance, and a chance to see some old friends, it is actually pretty enjoyable. On the train listening to the final volume of the Bartimaeus Trilogy by Jonathan Stroud. An Anton recommendation, a good fantasy, with excellent writing - with the last book being by far the best plotted in my opinion. However it almost killed me: run over by a bus outside Victoria station while listening to my headphones. An employee of the bus company was roaring Bus! at me. I was looking at him vaguely to my left wondering why he was shouting, as the bus loomed on my right. Happily I stopped shortly before squashing commenced. I sincerely thanked him, but then he began shaking his head and enlarging on what an idiot I was, and pretty soon I felt like punching my savio...

This isn't Kansas Poor sleep last night. Woke up in the middle of the night after dreaming about a tsunami. I often dream about tsunamis, and when I'm not dreaming about those, it's twisters. This can only be explained by having former lives in Krakatoa, and Kansas. And before that I was Cleopatra, but that's another story. Into work and locked away for most of the day with the Gnome,which almost made me feel as if I'd never left. Slogging on a pitch together, going through the usual gamut of emotions and drinking lots of coffee. A cold starting in the middle of the day, which was annoying and made it hard to think at times but it all turned out okay in the end. Champing at the bit to get on with all my other bits and pieces. But nice to see some people. Saw Al briefly, who is leaving to have her second baby soon. Home late, and after eating a cheese and onion sandwiches and chatting to Toby on the phone, headed for bed. I will be seeing the Tobster tomorrow after w...

The Gnome, imps, and Clangers, Back to London this morning, rewriting the last four lines of my magisterial Moth Display poem on the train. I rewrote about 20 versions of the closing lines but yet there is not one that is right yet. Waves of weirdness abating slightly about being in the agency again, and I enjoyed myself, and very nice to chat to people. Though the suggestion that they have another whip round for me as I left today fell on deaf ears. It felt very comfortable to have worked with the Gnome for a couple of days; like putting on an old and extremely comfortable cardigan. We went for a fast beer at lunchtime at the dubious OSP pub, and he then left to go to Denmark Street buy guitar accessory Christmas presents for his musical family. I repaired back to the agency to write about ailments of one sort or another, and chatted intermittently to another freelancer called Diane who was sat opposite me. She was very nice, and it turns out she and her husband live in Brighton, very...

Boomerang Off to London to start a two day spell of freelancing in my old agency for two day. For some reason I sprang from bed feeling very dubious very early in the morning. And so by time I arrived in the agency I was already tired. Boomeranging back, makes you feel like a Shakespearean ghost, with people double-taking at you from time to time. Aren't you dead ? But all was well, and the day was spent locked away with The Gnome working on concepts for the needles/eyes work for the client I'd pitched to in Switzerland. Pleased to see The Gnome again, and we did some good work, and ate chocolate biscuits and drank numerous teas. Then elbowing my way home. I was pleased to get this work, but it makes me wonder how I was able to do it every working day for getting on for 3 years. A couch potato in the evening, every show seemed to be about food Heston Blumenthal , Gordon Ramsay, are amazing (and completely different) characters. Bluementhal has been written about as a Willy Wonk...

All's well that ends well An excellent last day at the agency. Arrived late, attended a meeting and then simply went to the pub for lunch with the FB and the Gnome and other creative chums. The FB bought me a nice plate of sausages and mash and we drank some boozes. Then back to the agency where I had a last minute meeting, and had a few chats - and read a few friendly emails. Then a trolley of drinks was brought in to the creative department and some of the agency drifted up. Barney made a really flattering speech and I said a few things, chiefly about the pride I felt in the agency and the people who worked there. Felt very touched. I was given a card with a picture of Frank Bough on it, which was fun, and they'd had a collection and there is enough money for a proper walker's anorak. I feel I have ended well, and with great affection and was tremedously pleased I didn't blub like a big girl. Then all down to the works bar to socialise with lots of chums. These includ...

The dangers of yellow Play-Doh Cheery but busy today - working on a pitch. Working with Andy again, one of my old art directors. He told me a funny story about Play-Doh . Apparently shortly after a birthday where he had been given lots of Play Doh by his colleagues (for art directors are always fiddling with stuff like that) he was in bed trying to get to sleep - he had a big presentation the next day. Sadly there was an enormous amount of noise coming from his next door neighbours. The idea of some kind of ear plug came to mind, and he wadded cotton wool up but this didn't work. Then he had the inspired idea of fashioning ear plugs from Play Doh. When he woke up the next morning, he went to pull the plugs out. Unfortunately these simply crumbled a bit and he was left deafened with dry and hard yellow Play Doh wedged in his ears. Ghastly visit to his doctor, who was unable to remove the plugs, but sent him to the hospital with a letter. He had to visit several departments before th...

Ready to hang wit' the Gnomies In the office early again, and spent much of the day rushing about getting materials ready for Switzerland, and doing pitch rehearsals. Hoping it will go like clockwork (arf) when we get to hang wit' the Gnomies. Asked the Gnome if there were differences between Welsh Gnomes and Swiss Gnomes, a matter on which he declined to comment. Fortunately the FB is on this pitch team too, so at least there is some light relief. He is using part of a poem by Dylan Thomas in his part of the presentation, although he insists on combining this with glances in my direction and slurs on the sexuality of all poets. Otherwise a good deal of hunching over mac computers with designers in the studio, and getting on their nerves by correcting spellings, and tweaking designs - a process which lasted intermittently into the evening. Took the opportunity to have a beer with Pat and Nick while we waited. Nick busy doing Groucho Marx impressions. Managed another swim at lun...

A day in the life Trying to work on a poem about Magravine Cemetery on the train this morning. But these lines from the old Beatles song, the McCartney bit in A day in the life , kept going around my head instead: Woke up, fell out of bed, Dragged a comb across my head Found my way downstairs and drank a cup, And looking up I noticed I was late. Found my coat and grabbed my hat Made the bus in seconds flat Found my way upstairs and had a smoke,and Somebody spoke and I went into a dream. I am on the cusp of quite far-reaching decisions, and I find myself going into a dream on my commute and at work. Funny how the jukebox of your mind suddenly accesses a tune every now and then, and plays it as clearly as if you had just heard it a few seconds before. Work again a bit bitty, working on 6 different things during the day. Slipped out for a 40 minute walk at lunchtime along the river. A mostly quiet afternoon, where me and the Gnome had a chance to chat about music. He played me, and Trace ...