under another sun

Feeling antsy. The weather a despicable mix of coolness and and rain with tantalising spots of sunshine. L and I sprang out of bed fairly rapidly for us, and after I bought some bread, we drove off to Bolney to Jo's house where there was an outside plant sale combined with a cups of tea and coffee and bits of cake to raise money for a charity Jo supports.  Lorraine knew one or two folks there. I felt uncharacteristically trepidatious about going to meet a group of people most of whom I did not know even vaguely. It was of course fine when I got there, and in fact nice to be eating a rather nice bite of carrot cake made with ginger and sipping a tea in the open air.  Home again, and we read and faffed about a bit. Lorraine wandering into My Time At Portia , her game. I read a somewhat underwhelming edition of the otherwise excellent  Under the Radar magazine, and saw a review of Robin's pamphlet in it.  Shortly before tea time, I went off to buy a packet of crisps, a...

Nothing but the wild rain again. Feeling damp spirited first thing and conscious of my chesty cold which seems to be trying to stage a palace coup (croup?) and returning. Lorraine and I walked to the post office in the few minutes it wasn't raining. I took the bus to see Janet and Ken this afternoon in the rain, and being fed delicious little pistachio balls and hearing some excellent news: Janet's oncologist told her to go away and come back in a year for a checkup. Ken seeming brighter too, and they'd enjoyed a visit yesterday from their previously tumultuous granddaughter, who is now a model of thoughtfulness. What a difference a year makes. Listening to The Golden Apples of the Sun as an audiobook on the day's travels. I've not read these Ray Bradbury short stories for decades. He is a master of the craft. Home to the cheering news that I have a poem accepted for a magazine called Under the Radar. What is good about this is that it is a new poem. It'...