under another sun

Up early and took a phone brief at nine thirty, and simply slipped on the desk manacles and worked at it all day, or more accurately worked on it and struggled to focus on it. Popped out a couple of times to walk through around Blakey's Park and so on for short interludes of looking down at the sea, and walking among falling leaves. I cooked a roast chicken tonight and served it up for Lorraine and Beth when they got home. Otherwise little to report. I spoke to mum briefly. Lorraine and I watched His Dark Materials . Went to bed and read a story by Ray Bradbury. Tired.

Lorraine off to work, and I got up to start work, having lapped up the tea Lorraine brought me in bed. Stressed first thing, however, with the client changing overnight what time the morning's teleconference would start.  I was up far earlier, but only discovered everything had changed overnight and the meeting was underway, and I couldn't load the necessary software either. The rest of the day fine though, working for the agency. Also caught up on some emails relating to Janet, bill my lovely French clients, chat to mum and send off a few emails.  I also had a long chat with Rod, Ken's son. Mum's car has passed its MOT, although the number plate that she had refreshed with new paint had to be replaced. Also chatting to Betty about going to Janet's house tomorrow morning. A couple of short walks too. Lorraine having an evening governors meeting so home late. I watched a documentary about early humans and tried to draw designs for stained glass windows. I can...

Another scorcher.  A bit of a ditto day. Working at 7:30 to do the work I was too grumpy to do last thing yesterday. Then pretty much a full day's work on a complex grid of stuff for the charity I went to Chad with, which wasn't too horrid. A few short walks listening to A Far Cry From Kensington by Muriel Spark, which I am enjoying lots.  Lorraine, late having watched her school do its  play which went well. Another performance tomorrow night.

Working at home all day in hottest day of the year. Lorraine up incredibly early to take Betty off to Gatwick for her holiday in Portugal with Sam and Jade and her Dad's family. It meant I was up very early too. More work on the Chad poems which are coming on very well. Still surprised at how they are suddenly coming in a rush. The vacuous hashtag #sorrynotsorry came to mind this morning, as I sat in my little back garden drinking tea and working under the lilac tree in the corner, and thanking my lucky stars that I didn't have to train it to London. People were describing it as carnage at Brighton station a word that always makes me picture pieces of meat and dismembered limbs. But apparently the station was so full and badly served by trains (and of course sweltering hot) that they had to distribute free water, and quell fights breaking out, and close the station to people streaming back from the beaches onto an inadequate service. Then the toad work for the rest of the h...