under another sun

Shots and stags Up early and drinking some excellent coffee before we were joined by Matt Hindley and Tom Larowe, also from Minnesota like Craig, and cabbed off to The West London Shooting school where we met Graeme and Matty boy. The club house made me feel I was in a PG Wodehouse story, with lots of gun toting coves dressed in country garb, and a taxidermists dream of dead animal heads and game birds adorning the place. The day started in earnest with sensible bacon rolls and coffee, before we went out to shoot. Alone among us, I had never shot a weapon before in my life so was not expecting much from the experience. We were split into two groups of three - I was with Craig and Tom and were taken to various stands from where clay pigeons were frizbeed into the air. We were all given caps and eye protectors as bits of the clays were showering down from the sky all around, plus earplugs. Interestingly, in the smallish shooting grounds a pheasant, kestrel, geese and so on mooched about...

Staying with Mel and Craig A poor start to the day. I was feeling tetchy and self pitying, and didn't go to the gym which helps to banish such feelings. Luckily Lorraine was working at home in the afternoon so I could share this with her. Up to London in the afternoon and to Hammersmith to meet up with Craig and Mel in the Brook Green Hotel, a pleasant pub with grub served on slates that, when I knew it, was a rough and univiting dive. Really nice time chatting with Craig, and getting to know Mel better. She is a lovely woman, and an American like Craig. We ate at the Brook Green too, and enjoyed perhaps one or two too many drinks. But left the pub far more cheerfully than I had arrived. They had invited me to stay overnight as there would be an early start to Craig's stag day tomorrow. To bed at Craigs in their really nice flat. Great little garden too. It gave me the opportunity to learn more of the inside skinny on how Mel and Craig found each other, as they've asked me...

Newts and noises A timely chat with Mike my former art director, whose grown up approach soon had me feeling grounded and less twitchy about my freelance work. Otherwise the usual: to the gym for the third day in a row (I don't seem to be much thinner, but I feel far more springy) listening to my new audio book Solar , by Ian McEwen which is typically crisp and funny. Some of my own work this afternoon. Also spoke to Craig who I am going to stay with tomorrow night and Saturday, as part of Craig's Stag weekend. Lorraine and I sauntered in Preston Park which was as busy as a Summer's night. Looking into the little circular pond by the cafe which was alive with newts. I took a fancy to a tiny one, and couldn't help thinking of it as my newt. Elsewhere even the curl of barbecue smoke, people playing tennis and football, and children running about. We sauntered enjoyably, with Lorraine admiring colourless flowers. A really nice interlude. Then back to cook a prawn based rep...

Hateful limbo Inability to concentrate on my own work, combined with no sign of freelance work has put me in a hateful limbo. Still I plod along, sending out more CDs, emails, phonecalls etc. A thousand communications that tumble into an unanswering void. Thank God for the gym, which is a good conduit for my frustration. Finished The Winter Ghosts by Kate Mosse while trundling on the cross trainer etc. A loner haunted by grief arrives in a strange town, grappling with an uncertain reality. As you'd expect from Mosse, there was nicely-researched Cathar history, but I found the overall effect more wistful than frightening, the book's pace too langorous to build tension. Cheered too, by a nice letter from Richard in Guernsey. He is readying another book to spring on the world. After a spot of shopping with Lorraine, and cooking us a stirfry, I met Anton for a late beer and a lengthy chat.

Bears Clocks forward this weekend so this morning seemed bleakly early. Had to be at Anton's place to babysit Klaudia and Oskar first thing before taking them to school. They were good as gold, watching TV shows, an updated Scooby Doo , which was rather more frightening and a tad less predictable than the original, plus a show called Tracey Beaker that they seemed to like, and an animation called Charlie and Lola which was simple but visually innovative. Oskar earnestly explaining the action and plots to me, the sweetheart. Once the bairns delivered to school, Klaudia and I not treading on cracks because of bears, and then Klaudia deliberately treading on cracks because of bears, I went back home via Sainsburys. Motivation-free morning but I gradually picked up speed as the day progressed. My mood far more positive than it has been for several months. Could it be simply to do with the returning sun? Lorraine out late, on a post-work soup supper with colleagues. I ate spaghetti and...

Some of the big draws of Chester Woke up feeling unfairly fresh considering the previous night out with Carl. Carl, Jayne and Ellie came to the hotel for breakfast, which Carl kindly bought me. It was another amazingly beautiful day, so we decided to go to the nearby City of Chester, which dates from Roman times, and not too far away from Runcorn. A beautiful place it was too. We trundled around a few shops and I snapped away happily. Then to another pub, for a glass of cold lemonade before another stop as Carl and Jayne needed some food shopping, which allowed me to sneak off and take a photo of Helsby Hill, which from certain angles looks like a face. Eventually Carl dropped me back at the station. Fond farewells to him, Jayne and Ellie, and promises not to make it such a long gap next time. The train journey home was fine, after I had turfed out an irritable woman who was using my reserved seat as a place to rest her case. Listening to The Winter Ghosts by Kate Mosse again, which I...

A night out with Carl A day more like June than March. Lorraine and I off to Brighton station, travelling to Victoria together. I then made my way to Euston to visit Carl in Runcorn, and Lorraine went to Leeds to see Sam. A stress free journey, listening to Kate Mosse's The Winter Ghosts on my iPod. Carl waiting for me at Runcorn station and it was heartwarming to see him again after two and a half years. He was looking well and cheerful. And he drove me off to the Premier Inn and then returned with Jayne and Ellie once I'd unpacked and got myself sorted in a clean and reasonably pleasant room. Then off towards Frodsham and the Lady Hayes craft centre. Jayne went happily into a craft shop, and Carl, Ellie and I zoomed about in the patented Watson short attention span tour of other attractions. One was a shop selling aromatic and expensive candles owned by Bob Carolgees of Spit the Dog fame. The famous owner was there, but we weren't moved to speak to him. There was a micr...

A happy day Up early and some notes I made recently condensed into a what seems to be a storming poem, even if I say so myself. Which I do. Then to the gym. Obviously I'm still an enormously fat bloke, but slightly less so. Listening to podcasts about books as I go about my sweaty business. Then home in time to prepare for a teleconference with First Matie, Julian and Mate from the agency, and spent the afternoon and evening sorting out nine versions of some copy to be translated into Polish. Lorraine out working late, and after my work was done, I simply put on a DVD and sank happily into a Frazier fest sipping a sophisticated glass of whisky and diet coke until Lorraine came home. Lorraine is on the cusp of securing a new job as she is being seconded to work as a deputy head for a school for a few terms. This gives her the current in-school experience that she is missing to enable her to step confidently into headship in a year or so. All good, and she is excited.

Moments of limbo Not much happening, although I have been writing my own stuff in scraps first thing. But limboish moments bring out my inner astrologer, which is not a good thing as living your life by the stars is buffoonish. But I can't help noticing that Mercury the planet of communications, Mars and Saturn are all in retrograde motion. For astrologers this points to miscommunication and the undoing of deals and agreements, which chimes with what's going on now. Still, Lorraine had some excellent job news. And in the evening Dawn came around armed with chocolate cake, and Lorraine cooked a lovely curry and we all sat about very happily shooting the breeze. Dawn living with a friend at the moment, before buying a new place. She is experiencing the anticlimax of having sold her old place, moved everything out but not yet moving in somewhere new. More limbo. I am very fond of Dawn and Lorraine loves her.

Spring Feeling energised and positive this morning. It is the first day of spring, the sun has moved into Aries and all is good. It is the real new year and I am a pagan at heart. Writing a new poem this morning, but still no definite freelance work on the horizon. The person who offered me a long booking from next month has stopped answering my email or texts, so it goes. I went to the gym. In fact this is the third day in a row that I have been to the gym. It is good, although a bit boring. I am now using it to listen to book review podcasts. I cooked for Lorraine who arrived home late from a school governors meeting, and then pushed off to meet Anton in the Shakey's Head. A cheery evening generally, although Anton ended it with persistent hiccups. I went home and popped into the The Hydrant for half an hour as there was a free live band playing in there. They were fairly appalling, but fun nevertheless.

Why be happy when you could be normal? Despite my best efforts, not much happening today. Found myself unable to write, and business avenues seem temporarily blocked. Instead I went to the gym, then voraciously read Jeanette Winterson's Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? . I can't remember when I last consumed a book so quickly. It is a mainly a memoir about her childhood, dominated by the religious and depressive monster, referred to as Mrs Winterson, who adopted her. At one time Mrs Winterson made a bonfire of books that Jeanette had hidden under her bed. It also sketches the circumstances that lead to the publication of her first and largely autobiographical book Oranges are not the only fruit in her mid twenties. It then fast-forwards to a breakdown she had in recent years and her sucessful attempt to find her real mother, and a kind of peace made with the memory of Mrs Winterson. The book resonanted with me, just because her experiences where a little similar to my ow...

To score at last Lorraine and I off to the gym this morning. Felt sluggish to start with but then worked out for a long time. Lorraine did swimming, cross training and rowing machine too. I did weights of various types, a long rowing session and half an hour on the cross trainer. Home and Lorraine cooked a delicious chicken and broccoli dish for Betty and I and the three of us went to see The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel , just round the corner in the Duke of York's picture house. Betty paid for Lorraine as a Mothers Day present. A nice movie, quite feelgood, and the odd sad moment to stop it being sickly. A round of applause at the end from the packed cinema. Home and chatted to Mum, and began reading Jeanette Winterson's Why be happy when you could be normal? which I am really enjoying. Betty back to university this afternoon, looking brave crutches and bags strapped to her back. In other news Fernando Torres, the Chelsea centre forward whose inability to score since October ...

Kate gets on her bike Insomnia. Eventually I went downstairs and reread Black Venus , a short story by Angela Carter about Baudelaire's mistress. Carter was an amazing writer, but there are things about the story which under normal circumstances may have put me off. The first few pages are vague, there are references to Eve and a floaty unfocused poeticism. But the indulgence of the language makes sense when it becomes clear that the story is about the woman who was to become Baudelaire's muse. The virtues of patience as a reader are more easy to come by in the morning. Eventually dozing at around six, as Calliope watched me like a hawk a foot away from my face. Sluggish morning. Lorraine returned from shopping and driving Beth with a Zumba for Wii game, and proceeded to do Calypso dancing in front of the TV. I did some too, while Lorraine laughed at me. Then off to meet First Matie who had come to Brighton for a nice beer in the Basketmakers, and we sauntered off to Oki Nami f...

Cathead business Bad night's sleep, but up early and working on the new Matt collaboration pieces, then off to the gym for a lively workout before home and rather undoing all the good work with the egg and bacon sandwiches I made for myself and the crutch-waving Betty. Sent off more albums, including Jenny at BBC Guernsey, and Mario Petrucci who I am going for coffee with next month. I am slowly beginning to consider my current phase as a beneficial re-vamp of my business, which should create firmer foundations for the next few years. The afternoon, however, on cathead business as Janet is repeating her Open House this year. I went to see Janet and Ken, and enjoyed cups of Lady Gray tea and flapjacks and other fancies while discussing the correct manner to display Mum's papier mache catheads (which I'd brought round) as well as drifting into politics, David Hockney, Neanderthals and so on. Ken mentioned a new Chinese story about The Red Deer People who may be a newly discov...

Hello sunshine Another potentially long running freelance opportunity showed itself today, which was good news and I followed it up with enthusiasm. Otherwise sent out a few more albums and worked on the new Matt piece. This started really well, but is beginning to collapse under the weight of its contradictions, so I have had to deconstruct everything I have written so far. Out and about in the sunshine, and I spent an enjoyable hour in the Marwood for a change of scene chinstroking and changed about three lines. Into my new barbers but today's barber was heavy-handed and my hair is only just passable. Betty at home for most of the day on the gold sofa watching TV with her leg up. Nice to chat to her and bring her cups of tea. Below everyone creeping out into the sunshine. Lunchtime in the Pavilion Gardens.

I am a neanderthal Got a job offer but unfortunately it was in Marlowe, and would mean a six hour train round trip. The good news is that it means the package I've put together works in stirring up some interest. Sent CDs to a couple of newspapers, sent stuff to local agency, sent stuff to London agencies and so on. Feeling coldy today. Betty home this evening in time to share a delicious fish pie that Lorraine had cooked. She is on crutches after damaging her knee, although details of what has happened to it, are still thin on the ground but seems to be ligament or cartilage damage. Got reading about Neanderthals. Early humans fascinate me these days. Turns out that people originating in Europe and Asia have 2.5% Neanderthal DNA, as there was interbreeding. When the original Homo Sapiens were shuffling out of Africa it seems they bumped into Neanderthals in what's now the middle east. They seemed to have mixed with them genetically and then spread out to populate the world. Mo...

Bob in Brighton Feeling quite cheery today, taking care of business and beginning to think laterally, approaching a magazine with a wheeze, billing the AIDS Alliance, writing covering letters about the CD, and sending off a volley of email. Meet Bob in The Cricketers, as he was staying at the Thistle Hotel having delivered some training in Lewes. He was on good form, and we had a really good night with lots to talk about over a curry and a few beers, topped off with a thimble of vodka in the Scandinavian Bar. This tasted vaguely of Famel cough mixture and smoky bacon. From there we went to the front to stare at the sea. The horizon was a foggy lineless black. We looked down nostalgically at the bright young things heading for one of the nightclubs and then we walked together as far as Preston Circus, before Bob loped off under the gibbous moon. Jolly good to see him.

In conjunction Up at seven and was editing an paper by the AIDS Alliance about AIDS transmission from mothers to children in Uganda. A sobering read, but the paper was on how to people in remoter areas to work side by side with the health authorities. Men are a problem as they seem less easy to convince that aids is real. Lorraine also working at home today on the next desk. But noisy when she has to talk to people, as what she was saying was often more compelling that the stuff I was reading. In fairness it was quite well written, but I have noticed that academics generally think that writing in 100 word sentences is a badge of honour. More infernal work being undertaken on the viaduct behind us made me reach for the earplugs. After the editing was done, I went out into the gorgeous sunshine back to the incredibly tiny local agency, again missing the MD. I left a card. Heard from Betty who seems to have done something to the cartilage of her knee, and is on crutches. Lorraine and I we...

Cats and Battle Axes Loaded Mum's pictures into the car and drove off to Edgware to see Mum and Mase with my iPod playing on random. Lorraine had the power of veto, however, and quite a few tunes were put to the sword. By the time we reached Edgware it was a beautiful sunny day. After saying hello, all back into Lorriane's car and we drove out to The Battle Axes just outside Elstree where we were served by a duty manager who was the living embodiment of the pub's name. Four Sunday roasts hit the spot however and we had fun. Was texted by Jenny at BBC Guernsey, who hadn't received the copy of Clameur I had sent her. Where do they go? After we went off to Battlers Green Farm which had been converted to contain giftshops, a butchers and an arts and crafts bit where people were busy making silver things. Mum bought Lorraine a brooch there for her forthcoming birthday in April. We had tea there too, in a cafe called The Bull Pen. Enjoyed watching a Japanese couple munch the...

Dawn in transit, and a touch of spice Up fairly early this morning, and mooched off to Dawn's flat in Compton Road where Lorraine and I, Cath, Mark, Sarah, and her lovely little daughter Evelyn helped Dawn and Ellie (her daughter at college in London) move out. Much carrying of boxes etc. out of the house like a line of ants. Sarah and JD from a few doors down brought us cups of tea when we were loading the van, and Dawn produced fruitcake which was rather marvellous. Then down to the storage depot, with a change of personnel L & I plus Dawn, Ellie and Dawn's two sisters loading everything into a storage cubicle. A beautiful day, and after we were done, Lorraine and I walked through the park, passing a convention of pug owners. Home and a little quiet time. Cath came around later to show us the results of a clothes spending spree. In the evening off to The Basketmakers to meet Matt and Wayne and chat to them and a few other BM regulars such as Irish Tom and Rich who is just...