under another sun

Up and at 'em this morning, submitting two short stories. I've had a big burst of writing lately, and felt like my brain needs refuelling.  I have half an idea for another story.  Lorraine took Pat to Eastbourne and then did Rhymetime, about a dozen babies and their adults this morning. Beth had to go to physio briefly this morning so the little lad was with us for a spell around lunchtime. Off to the gym this afternoon, and then home to chat to Mum who was quite chipper, and off to see her pals up the road this evening. I assembled a salad for supper for Lorraine and I. Sat on the gold sofa chatting for a while.  Then to the Cinque Ports to meet Steve, who'd been in Leicester for much of July as his mother is recovering from a broken leg and a broken foot on the other limb. While we were in the pub, the jukebox played a song by Yes, called South Side of the Sky. I have never heard anything from Yes's classic period played in a pub before.   Then to Steamworks. Weird...

To London this morning, via Brighton as the line from Lewes is still not safe. Doing some writing on the train, also asking Chat GPT about potential markets for my short stories. It is brilliant, like having a an efficient assistant. Arrived at Hampstead a little early and got chatting to the transport for London staff member, while waiting. She pointed out two people running through the barriers, who had just stolen things from the little confectioner newsagents in the station.  When Mum arrived we made off to The Old White Bear. She told me she has been in touch with Steve from the Waggon, who was pleased to hear from her, and told her where they now drink. Which is a pub on the same route that she drives to the Waggon. It had closed for a few years, but has now reopened.  This is great as Mum can see her drinking pals again. Mum had pea soup again, and I had an arancini. We sat next to a woman with a dog, which Mum liked lots. The Polish woman told us in her loud and cheery...

A monkish Monday, as Lorraine was with Maureen all day, and was a bit zonko when she returned. However she did arrive with a present for me: a new jam thermometer, one with a sensible metal prong, with a dial at the top of it. Sometimes, and this is one of them, I feel like this has been ghost written by Charles Pooter.  I completed proofing and tweaking a short story called Good Boy, and is, among other things, about unspeakable canines. If published (I sent it off this evening) it won't play well in Barking or the Isle of Dogs.  Otherwise: to the gym. Later, I cooked us a cheeky curry and watched a documentary about Manchester City and Pep Guardiola. How City have done so well under Pep beats me. I wonder how his players can understand what he says in his briefings. Luckily Amazon have subtitled it. We went to bed early to read. Blissfully cool night air. All well.  Charles Pooter, on the right of the drawing.

A  'jam Sunday' where L and I allow ourselves an extra toast with jam, today it was my homemade plum jam. I am boastful about the jam.  Then L and I surged out into the garden. Lorraine busy with lots of bits above my pay grade such as pruning raspberries, and re-seeding our trug with salad vegetables.  I attended to what's left of the raised veggie beds after the relentless heatwaves.The beans did really well, partially because the wretched snails have had to hide.  I picked a few more to have with our dinner (beans not snails), plus a few leaves of spinach which have recovered after laying their leaves on the ground like limp rags. The celeriacs have not balled up at all, a few leeks have survived, but are thin and small. Perhaps they will all plump up now that there is lots of rain in the forecast.    I deadheaded roses in the front garden, wondering if we should make rose hip syrup, like Mum did once or twice. Under Lorraine's supervision I also took cu...

Lorraine off to Hove to get her hair cut today. I finalised the pamphlet-length MS and sent it off. It contains poems that mess with the fabric of reality, they are very marmite. I hope they like marmite. Then off to Brighton to meet Mrs Kenny, with her lovely glossy hair. We mooched up St James's road, and stopped in the pub called The Saint James, where we went on our first date for a quick drink before heading to the restaurant that used to be across the road. A chaotic, but friendly pub these days. A large blue and yellow macaw had pride of place on a tall stand at the back of the room, and apparently had form in stealing people's earrings. Someone having their photo taken with it, while their dog barking continuously at it. Another dog joined in and there was an ear splitting cacophony. Meanwhile a bloke sat on our tabletop to look at the racing scores. The pizza we had ordered to share took an age to come, but was excellent when it did. We drank some lemonade shandy there...

Up and finalising the manuscript for a new pamphlet I've been writing in a frenzy for the last few weeks. For better or worse it is done, and I just have to send it off now. Another private feeling of accomplishment. I've entered it into a competition so nothing much more to do with it for the time being, as the results won't be announced till next year. Then I went to the gym, now that I am over my cold. Enjoyed it. Lorraine busy, taking Pat to Eastbourne this morning. Then she brought Maureen home. In preparing a lunchtime bite for us all, I went to the glasshouse and picked a particularly gnarled, knobbly cucumber with prickles, which I showed to Maureen who was appalled by it and refused to believe it was a cucumber. She ate some of it though. A long chat with Maureen this afternoon, after she'd had an afternoon doze. It gives her a bit of a break when Pat goes off for the day, and Pat seems to enjoy it. When  Lorraine drove off to Eastbourne to collect Pat in the a...

Occasional bursts of torrential rain from about 4 am -- and excited by more heavy rain this morning. Love it. I wore long trousers for the first time in months. My writing is still flowing and it would be absurd not to just go with that flow.  Lorraine took Enzo for a swimming lesson this morning, which he enjoyed greatly, and so did Lorraine. Other than writing, I made some more plum jam. I added too much pectin, so the jam is quite thick, but spreadable. It tastes good though, and I chucked in a cinnamon stick while it was cooking, and lots of lemon.  Then, as Enzo seems mad for transport, especially cars, we took him on a train ride to Lewes, which he quite enjoyed. We had a quick drink in a cafe, and brought him back again. He was very interested in the journey and in our fellow passengers.

It was raining in the early hours of the morning, and it rained on and off most satisfactorily until midday. Wonderful rain in just the right amount. At 8am I opened the kitchen door to enjoy the aromas of the petrichor. The rain seems almost miraculous after months of drought. A cold this morning, sneezing and snuffling somewhat. I had to cancel seeing Brian, as the last thing he needs is a cold a few days before his knee op. Although I wasn't feeling physically wonderful, I had a wonderful day's writing.  Lunch with Lorraine, while Beth and Enzo were here. They'd been swimming this morning. Beth said Enzo has no fear and swims happily underwater. Then an afternoon nap.  Afterwards editing a story I'd written about seven years ago, but hadn't been able to sort out. Have the feeling I am a better writer now, and what I needed to do was crystal clear. This is sort of exhilarating. Chatted to Mum. Lorraine and I in the garden before dinner, picking tomatoes and green ...

Up early to go to Hampstead. Moisture in the air, a light, minuscule drops that didn't darken the pavement or my shirt.  Had to travel via Brighton after the crash on the Lewes line. The train stopped on the viaduct in Brighton, and I got a view of Preston Park, which was baked earth between the trees. Did some editing of poems on the train, but began to feel out of sorts on the way up to Hampstead. I have a bit of a cold, which I hope I didn't give to Mum.  Muggy in Hampstead. I met Mum at the station as usual, and we toddled down to the Old White Bear, which we both like as our special meeting place. Her amigos at the Waggon seem to have abandoned that place, and perhaps drink elsewhere. Toby called me while we were in the Bear, saying he hadn't been able to reach Mum, but they said hello. We sat in a different seat today, with views of different bears, as interlopers had moved into our usual corner, and we had our usual fare, pea and lovage soup for Mum, and a sourdough ...

Lorraine and Beth taking Enzo off to his hospital appointment today. It seems he has a condition where certain foods, such as cows milk, react badly with him, not immediately but in half an hour or so. It's a kind of juvenile protein intolerance, which should right itself as he grows up. Beth, Lorraine and Enzo spent time with Pat and Maureen after, with Lorraine not returning till five. A quiet day for me, I heard from Robin, spoke to Mum, and worked intermittently at writing. Yvonne contacted me. She will have extensive nursing duties when Brian gets back from hospital after his knee replacement. I arranged to see Brian later in the week. I also went to the gym and had a good workout, to sweatily atone for the weekend wrongs.  Lorraine got to the bottom of her mysterious shoulder rash. From the greenhouse, brushing against cucumber leaves.  

Up and about feeling a bit jaded. The sky somewhat overcast today, but with no rain. Soon Lorraine was driving us off to Mark and Carol's house, down country lanes three miles outside Lewes. Peter and Julie had already arrived, and Mark was soon matter-of-factly hosing the barbecue with lighter fluid to get it going, and soon he was busy cooking big prawns and salmon and burgers and sausages, add these to excellent salads and plenty of beer and good conversation and it was a happy afternoon. Their garden was a kind of English idyll, with established apple trees, and burgeoning flower beds. Cheery banter about children and grandchildren and so on, Mark telling the story of how the actor Bob Hoskins admired his Dame, when he was dressed in drag as part of the local theatre group in support of  a charity, and everyone pleased for me when I mentioned the book, Mr Hoibak shaking me warmly by the hand.   We all left around 7, and on returning home, I simply sat about on the gold sof...

Enzo first thing. Sitting between us on the bed. All very sweet. I fed him this morning with his breakfast mashed Weetabix and blueberries, after he'd shown no interest in it half an hour before. Beth and James called round and hung out chatting while the bambino had a nap. We are going to go to France soon for a cheeky week.   Lorraine potting again today, and having a much needed day of downtime. Chatted to Mum to decide on what day I'm seeing her. I went to the gym, then I made off in the evening to Brighton to meet up with Anton.    A lot to discuss. Work has been hell and it has been making him consider his options. We mooched about in Brighton, shooting the breeze. He said he had found a YouTube video of Psychobilly band called Guano Batz, that had played in the Klub Foot in the Albany pub in 1987. It had been close to  Hammersmith Station, but long gone now. He had found film of himself in the crowd. It's like time travel.  We stopped at an Afghani take a...

I spent the morning writing in a blur of productivity. I am feeling really happy with it all at the moment. Spent time with Lorraine in the studio, where she was doing pottery, but all the pots ended up being squished.  Off to Brighton this afternoon. Getting on the train at Seaford, I bumped into Adrian and Laura. Had a nice chat with them. Adrian asked me if my teeshirt was a fashion thing. No it was inside out. Later I put on my bifocals, and they simply collapsed with the lens and screw popping out. Luckily I found it. A  spot of shopping, and then a cheeky haircut. My teeshirt soaking with sweat after sitting under the little nylon cape, and on a leather chair for almost an hour. Tracy labouring in the heat, and some bloke back from Australia after splitting from his wife who wouldn't stop talking to him meant it all took much longer.  Home to change my teeshirt, and see Lorraine, who'd collected Enzo from nursery. The little boy very coldy. Beth and James were celeb...

A sweltering night, and only fitful sleep. An Enzo day, and his cold is much better. Lorraine off early and returned with the baby boy, and we spent much of the day indoors avoiding the peak of this incredible heatwave, 38.1C at Kew today. This is the fifth heatwave of the summer. It's beginning to remind me of Chad. A little cooler in Seaford but extremely uncomfortable, and barely any wind. Clothes are bone dry when we hang them outside in no time. Mum is managing as well as can be expected. But it is all getting too much for everyone. The heat also caused buckling on the train lines near Lewes. In the afternoon I heard the sirens of emergency vehicles and it seemed like a big shout. Turns out the Victoria to Eastbourne train had derailed and two people were seriously injured. Luckily the train was approaching Lewes so was moving fairly slowly.  A bit sobering  as this is the train from Lewes I catch to see Mum in London.  When not playing with Enzo I was frenziedly wri...

Infernally hot, which made me feel better about not seeing Mum today.  Also seven very itchy mosquito bites from somewhere. Otherwise I had another brilliant morning's work, until in the afternoon it was too hot to do much. Lorraine taking Pat off to Eastbourne this morning. He was sick on the way there and on the way back. Otherwise Maureen lurked with us in the back garden for a while, and enjoyed it there. At five thirty I made my way to Seaford Beach and went off to the Martello, where a large crowd had gathered, around a stand for Lewes Astronomical Society. Apparently they had a few safety glasses to look at the sun, but there were literally hundreds there, so some of the people giving them away was shouting in alarm due to the press of people. This sudden popular uprising of astronomers, seemed mad to me.  I sauntered along to Frankie's where I bumped into Steve and his friend Francesca. As I'd been walking along, I began to conceive of the idea of a cold drink of la...

At my desk shortly after seven, mad for poems. Had breakfast with Lorraine. Enzo isn't well today, so he is not going to Nursery. Instead Beth worked from here, and we played with the little lad, who has a summer cold. Adrian and Laura called round this morning, with lots of art magazines, that they have no room for. I think Adrain was a little sad to see them go. Sat in the back garden with Enzo and them, drinking coffee. Laura is phobic about butterflies, and there were loads of them today. Had a chat about phobias, in which of course I have a personal interest.  Then they left, I worked all morning, and broke off at around two for lunch. Had an hour's sleep in the afternoon, as I am feeling a bit throaty and tired. Glorious that I can simply do that if I fancy it.  Playing with the little boy this afternoon. He is almost standing and was leaning against the gold sofa and standing for ages. He is always asking me to pick him up. It is very sweet. Lorraine off to her pottery ...

Neither of us felt fresh as daisies after a sweltering night and yesterday's boozes. Assembling poems like a maniac this morning. Marvellous fun. The project so far called So What, You're Weird Too .  To the gym this lunchtime to make up for the sausages and beer snarfed on the beach. Very enjoyable, and I was able to get on the lat pull machine this time. Home and a bit more writing, before meeting Lorraine in Morrisons. I think I am weird because I love shopping with Lorraine. Home and I made a rather excellent veggie chilli. I put nutmeg, cumin and lots of black pepper in mine, as well as fresh chillies and chilli powder.  No Babylon 5. We urgently need a new supply of people dressed as aliens, plus spaceships. An early night. Started re-reading R.S. Thomas in bed. I love his stuff.  A sweaty out of focus selfie on the cross trainer in the gym. That's two selfies in two days. A record.

Now that the One Day Forever material has been swept away for future publication, a pamphlet's worth of funnier material is miraculously assembling. In Brian Eno's A Year With Swollen Appendices , he reports advice given to him by his friend Stewart Brand: 'Why don’t you assume you’ve written your book already, and all you have to do now is find it?’ I love this thought.  After a morning of enthusiastic work, we made off for the beach this afternoon, going via Morrisons. We ended up near Splash Point end, where we met Rosie and Innis, Adrian and Laura. A jolly afternoon barbecue, with several drinks and splash in the channel. I barely screamed at all getting into it, as it was the warmest channel dip I'd ever taken. Still quite refreshing. Utterly relaxed this afternoon. Now I know Adrian and Laura better, I'm really liking them. Home and Lorraine and I watched the last two episodes of Babylon 5. Lorraine and I bereft now. It was a brilliant show. Five (including P...

I wrote freely and with some gusto this morning. At lunchtime Lorraine gave me a lift to the gym, before she collected Betty and they made off to Eastbourne to see a musical theatre show Project Mincemeat, which they both loved. I went to the gym, passing Blatchington Pond which is now drying out. It's like the sub Sahara here.  I enjoyed the gym, apart from  the giant shouldered man who arriving at the lat pull machine two seconds before me, squatted on it like a toad till I had to go. Bah. Home and relaxed. Chatted to Mum. Apparently it is going to be incredibly hot again next week. So we will have to take a view on what happens to our plan to meet at the White Bear on Wednesday.   Into the garden to pick plums from the tiny tree and this time they turned out to be worm free. The jam, three jars of it, set nicely and tasted fine. I always feel a real sense of achievement about making jam, I don't know why. Then I put together a quick stir fry and L and I happily scarfed...