under another sun

A poor night's sleep. Scooting about this morning doing some work before accosting Mum at Brighton station. Straight to the sea, which we found to be greenish with a bruised banks of cloud raining in the distance.  Mum drawn right away to the kippers in a roll at Jack and Linda Mills place on the seafront. Lovely people and Jack was wearing a Guernsey jumper and so we chatted about this and he came outside to chat with us as we ate outside. He told us about fishing here just after the war, and how the sea was full of fish because of how the sea had been mined to defend it. Then a cold walk around the pier, the flags stiff in the breeze. A good deal of talking to be done, which we did as we walked around the pier watching the skeletons etc. loom out of their smoking windows at the top of the horror hotel ride. Then inland to The Mock Turtle for tea and cake. Enjoying all the willow pattern plates on the wall, and the tables on the sides groaning with cakes. Next to the Museu...

Multitasking and kippers Working at home for First Matie today, on 18 different emails, six different web pages employing six different documents as source material. Sadly I was having a bit of a small brain attack and several hours of juggling all these windows on my computer made me feel like screaming. Men and multitasking: it's problematic. Paused to engorge kippers for lunch, the odoriferous herring permeating my house questionably through the afternoon hours. Far more pleasantly I got nice calls from Ash about a Dell curry night and other matters, and from Bob and Mum and Lorraine. Then in the evening, after turning off my computer with a sigh, a boys night in with Anton. Playing records and CDs including a stormer by Brigitte Bardot on his wonderful stereo. We forked down some excellent pasta and cheese, and sipped wine. Listened amongst other things to some Johnny Cash, my interest piqued a little by the Walk the Line film I saw the other day. Lay in bed listening to thunde...