under another sun

An early start, writing some more. Dawn came to see Lorraine, and I went to Wimbledon to meet Simon. Listening to a bit of the Invisible Man by HG Wells as an audiobook. I have read it before, but it is to do with the stuff I've been writing lately. Counterintuitively, it is fairly easy to get to Wimbledon -- simply a train from Lewes to East Croydon, and a tram from there, which takes about 25 minutes. Met him in the same pub at two at last time, but we soon repaired to get some food, a Fatto a Mano pizza. After a bit, and a couple of beers it is like no time has passed really. In a parallel universe Simon and I have sat in the corner of a pub and talked nonsense since 1979. He's moved into a new house and seems very happy there, and is working three days a week still. Ever the dark horse, he seems content in his life. I tried to get a photo of him, that didn't look weird, but he was pulling weird faces so here's one of those. Fond farewells at Wimbledon, and I came ho...

Somewhat delicate first thing and in need of much water. A peaceful day punctuated by popping into the garden to water things. There has been decent rain in the UK lately, but very little has reached Seaford. Lorraine and I harvested some large cucumbers and radishes bigger than golf balls today... Tasty too. Unusually, however, quite a bit of the day was given over to watching the Wimbledon Men's final with Pat and Maureen. It was quite an epic battle. By the fifth set, needed to move, I popped out to water the courgettes and add buckets of rainwater into the fishpond and other pressing tasks, but returned for the last few games where Djokovic who has won the tournament many times (and who Maureen wanted to win) was overcome by Alcaraz, a twenty year old Spanish pretender to his throne. An epic encounter.  Maureen had wanted Ons Jabeur to win the ladies yesterday, but as Jabeur was beaten by an unseeded whippersnapper, Maureen grumpy about both games. A peaceful evening, eating he...

 Lorraine and I lying low today. I woke up in the night with a spangling migraine at around 3:30 am and felt a little washed out in the morning. Much improved as the day progressed. I talked to Mum, and Lorraine talked to Pat and Maureen. Lorraine also chatted to Angie and Richard again, these are the people we are buying the house from in Seaford. They are keeping in touch lots. Lying in bed this morning, I did a Medscape quiz about spotting Narcissistic Personality Disorder in patients, and aced it. We saw a smidge of Wimbledon too, the ladies final where two ladies were playing a game of tennis and one of them won. Commentators bemoaning the fact that the winner -- a Russian girl who had, become an Kazakhstani a few years earlier (Russians being banned from Wimbledon this year because of Putin's war) -- was rather self controlled about winning and did behave emotionally enough. I would say this was sexist drivel but all the commentators were women.  Fish pie in the oven, Lo...

Have given myself a savage deadline to get enough of the New Idea book sent off shortly after I return from holiday. This means a sprint over the next couple of weeks, but is distinctly achievable.  I feel like I am working with renewed purpose. Some delight and excitement from Betty today, who took the clothes shop card Romy had given her to the shop and found that Romy had put a chunk of cash on it, which represented a small fortune to a student. Also she went to the Basketmakers with Gary in the evening, and they have offered to teach Betty how to pour pints this week: a boon which could lead to more work. In the evening up to Wimbledon with Anton to meet Sarah Freeman and Marja. Anton and I travelled to East Croydon and then caught a tram, provoking a degree of unnecessary anti-tram controversy from Anton. He hadn't seen Marja for about 13 years and spent some time talking about he achieved his super slim figure. He explained his tactic for renewing his wardrobe. ...

A Kentish interlude Off today to Ashford in Kent by train to see Pat and Maureen, Lorraine's parents. Nice journey reading the paper and looking over the landscapes as the train headed into Kent. Picked up by Pat who took us home, and Maureen had cooked us a big roast dinner. Spent much of the afternoon, watching Wimbledon. Suddenly found myself drawn into it for the first time in years. Enjoyed Novak Djokovic V Marcos Baghdatis, especially when the robotic Djokovic destroyed his racquet by hammering it repeatedly into the court. An enjoyable incident which I wished I was watching with my brother. Enjoyably relaxed day, as I was rather tired by the week. Enjoyed being briefly in the garden, Pat showing us his beans and strawberries and so on as, at last, the summer sun re-emerged. Journey home seemed long. The carriage was freezing due to over-enthusiastic air conditioning. And Brighton cold and full of sea mist when we arrived. My boiler refused to spark up much to my irritation. ...

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...