under another sun

What torpedoes? At last decided on the CD producers we are going to use: Brighton's own Modo . So full steam ahead now, and damn the torpedoes hissing through the water. Conversations and email with Matt and Dipak and Richard about the launch concert in February. The Shakespeare Trio will be on the bill too. Next step this week is to finalise the cover, deliver the master CD to Modo, revamp relevant websites and, contact The Beacon charity to whom I want to give some of the proceeds. Went to see Janet and Ken this afternoon, popping in for a chat after vising the Real Patisserie and arming myself with pieces of patisserie, guts sufficiently recovered to snap down one wee tarte tatin with them accompanied by a cup of Earl Grey tea. All rather civilised. Generally put the world to rights for some time. Janet managing with her arm, and looking far perkier than when I last saw her. Janet suggesting I might find someone to offer occasional admin support, and knows just the person. S...

When le pain is no pain Took a briefing this morning for work on French bread products from my lovely French client Jeanne. After spinning about in my chair for a while thinking about what attracts Brits to French stuff I found my feet taking me the few steps down Trafalgar Street to The Real Pâtisserie . I scored a fresh baguette and then some brie and spring onions from M&S and had them inspiringly for lunch with a cup of coffee, flaking crumbs into an open copy of J-P Sartres' L'Être et le Néant . Thus fortified, off to get a haircut down by Seven Dials. There was some sort of shouty altercation going on between a bicyclist and a car driver. This caused my barber to talk about how he had been recently cut up on a bicycle and wanted to fight someone. I quickly changed the subject as in talking about it he was jabbing my head and shearing the sides with barely suppressed violence. Then an afternoon of faffing somewhat and vaguely getting ready for tomorrow's trip to G...