under another sun

A tranquil atmosphere meant I was able get on with writing undisturbed for hours on end. Much cheered by this. Also my new iPhone  arrived a bit bigger than my old one and slightly yellow. It has facial recognition, so it looks at your face and opens up to you. Transferring stuff from one phone to another fairly easy, just lay the phones next to each other and answer an occasional prompt.  Also took myself for a walk along by the sea, on a cloudless afternoon. The sunlight cheering. Then home again working till, at a particularly thorny bit, Andy the carpenter popped in to size up a small job. Then Lorraine returned from the hairdresser, and having seen Rosie for lunch, with silky smooth hair. I spoke to Mum, and we had more bean jar from yesterday, and watched the first couple of episodes of Game of Thrones, which were rather racy. Tolkien it isn't. A photo from my new phone to demonstrate the blue sky.   

A storming day of writing. Surging forward with three new poems for a collection, provisionally called The slow tsunami, which is mainly about time. I am trying to have it ready fast enough to the International poetry book and pamphlet competition the end of November. A deadline is always useful. In the afternoon I saw my iPhone had spontaneously given up the ghost. Took it to the Orange shop, and a bloke there simply pressed both its buttons at once and it restarted. Apparently iPhones do this once in a while, 'because they are like computers'. Baffling. But I walked away happy. Went to my old magic cafe, and worked more on my poems. I can't believe how hungry I am for this work. Then home. Lorraine out tonight, so I simply worked more on my poems till she returned, gave her a glass of wine and chatted. Noticed just before I went to bed that one of my angel fish died suddenly. Felt sad about this, as I've had it for four or five years.

Off to the quack. I like my doctor,  despite loathing surgery visits. In the waiting room I started listening to a meditation on my iPhone. After a few minutes talking to the doctor the earphones somehow slid out, and a hypnotic voice started talking from my pocket about climbing down a flight of stairs into a beautiful garden, complete with tweets of birds. My doctor sees me as a bit of an eccentric and things like this don't help. After this I strode down to the sea, which was strikingly green. Wandered about on the pier for a bit. A gloomy day, but good to get some fresh air and feeling personally a bit freer than I have done for a while. Homeward, and I popped into the pharmacy, waiting with the methadone users, for the horse pills I was prescribed. Afternoon and early evening spent on accounts. Things extra complicated by moving house, above and beyond the normal scratting around for receipts and so on. Almost there now, and I will be greatly pleased when it's all done...

Lorraine up and working hard in what is her last day of preparation for the big interview tomorrow. Dawn, who has just bought a flat in Henfield, came around to give Lorraine help and moral support and make lots of green paper leaves. I repaired to Ken and Janet's house and stayed for some time, having good chats with them as the sweltering heat had made it a quiet Open House day.  Janet said that people are very interested, but is concluding that hard times are making people unwilling to put their hands in their pockets. Mum has sold a few items this time, however, which is good. Also talking to Huss, Ken's son-in-law who I've always liked, and their friend Ray, who works at the University and has a trademark of a long flowing beard. Sat in the conservatory in the back watching them smoke cigarettes. Later Lorraine and I went for a walk in the park, which looked like an L.S. Lowry picture, but one which replaced Salford with a big green park dotted with people, bicycles,...

I always notice it being Friday the 13th. Not that anything remarkable ever seems to happen, thankfully. Instead Anton came by this morning to help me set up my iPhone. Downloaded apps such as the Guardian, which, for a few quid, updates itself on your iPone all year, plus things that let you look at the stars and tells you exactly what you are looking at, apps that update all the train times for the commutes I do, local bus apps. There is a whole world of information that is available only to people with iGadgets. Anton my Virgil into the app world. By lunchtime Lorraine mysteriously tiring of iPhone talk, and it seems to me that she may actually prefer some of my recent discourses about paleoanthropology. Anton made off into the sunny day, and in the afternoon Lorraine and I did a big pre-party shop for the beano we are having tomorrow. Feel vaguely like an alcoholic wheeling out of Sainsburys with beers and spi...

Aps Up and working on poems having been woken by Calliope. Surprisingly unjaded after the party last night. Woke Lorraine to explain my genius, then walked down the road to buy bread from the French Patisserie and returned to breakfast on fresh bread, kipper and fried tomatoes. Little to report. Lorraine downloaded performances on the camera from last weekend so I may be able to start editing film for the This concert thing soon. Gloriously Chelsea beat Manchester United at Old Trafford and are now favourites to win the league. Eager to discuss this with Anton, who was less keen when I went up the road to hang out with Anton, Anna and Brian, and gorge on Anton's delicious pizzas. Anton's new craze is his iPhone. It has a million 'aps'. One of which is an ability to tune into a million radio stations, and be plugged into his stereo. Anna, who also has a iPhone, showing me the tea-making ap, into which you program your family or colleagues names and then shake your phone...