Pine feet Up with the sparrows this morning. The Tobster dormant, I did hours of work before he got up. I have targeted a new publisher, Hay House, for my pamphlet project - and this morning I made a few amends to it, and sent it off in the afternoon, to try my luck. I took Toby a nice cup of tea at 11 and, when he had surfaced I cooked peppered tomatoes and mushrooms fried in olive oil on toast. Toby said that his favourite vegetables are tomatoes and mushrooms. Toby is very easy to cook for, something that Romy tells him too apparently. The top Toby accolade for food is a pause for one beat then tasty said with some feeling. Same thing in Japan except that he used the word oishii instead. He then set off up to the Smoke to see Mum and Mas. I did more work at home, before an afternoon swim. The pool full today, and a seemed to have dozens of staff rushing about. One of whom poured a fair amount of industrial strength disinfectant over my feet as I walked towards the pool. A mistake
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Rolling up the trouserlegs Up at seven, and a spot of admin and payment chasing, and writing for a few hours before Toby surfaced, enticed by a cup of tea. As Toby groggily regrouped, I went off for a haircut, where I mentioned that my brother was over from Canada. The hairdresser quizzed me as to whether he had come over for the Pride parade in Brighton this weekend. Saying that he hadn't, made me feel curiously homophobic. So I had to add perhaps over-eagerly that I for one would certianly be enjoying the parade, which wasn't quite right either. A few nasty moments this morning having discovered I no longer had my manbag and, much more importantly, my camera. I called Zizzi and after describing its ink-stains, was told they had it. Returned home fully manbagged again, Toby showed me his excellent Argentinian photos. Some beautiful images. Then I went for a massage, which was free - having introduced Lorraine to my back crackers. I had a huge knot in my shoulders apparently,
Return of the Tobster Feeling somewhat seedy this morning, curse those ABF (absolute bloody final) gin and tonics. However was up early and siphoning coffee and sparkling water into myself. Have confirmed my poetry surgery on the 30th August with Brendan Cleary. This means my last tinkerings with my poetry manuscript were made today. I am going to print out the results and then park the whole thing for a few weeks, till I get this feedback. Toby arrived from Canada in the morning sporting the Platonic ideal of a green leather manbag from Argentina. Apart from the couple of hours where he crashed out, we spent the entire day talking. Tobs playing music by his and Romy's new favourite band, Argentina's Babasónicos and telling me more about their recent trip to Argentina, which sounds vibrant and creative place. This despite him seeing a 2-0! teeshirt detailing the moves involved in Diego Maradona's Hand of God world cup goal against England. Toby crashed out for a couple of h
A happy Monday Aimee and Princess Lakshmi hit Brighton today, popping into the Twitten. Lively ladies both, and I had a splendid day with them. A brief tour of places of interest: looking at famous graffiti by Banksy, Madhatters, threading through the Laines, Pavilion, etc. which Aimee really enjoyed. Then sitting under a parasol in the hot sun near the doughnut sculpture on the seafront drinking cold beer and picking at antipasti, and having a protracted gossip about romances and jobs and other good stuff while looking over at the pier. From there off to the Cricketers where we were joined by Romy, who is Aimee's cousin. Romy has just graduated with a degree in anthropology and, interestingly, spent much of her studenthood living in a treehouse. Returned to the Twitten, to rendezvous with Aimee's taxi which was taking her to the airport and back to Dubai, where she is currently the second or third most important person, and doing some very high profile work to do with the oil
Phasers set to chill. A couple of hours work on my stuff, and then a long overdue chat with Janet, who was just about to call me for advice about buying an iPod , to take on a cruise. She's also getting over a nasty fall on her knee in the garden, but fortunately nothing was broken. But she said being white haired and travelling to a conference with a suitcase and a cane got her lots of spontaneous help from people. In the afternoon, off to a garden centre with Lorraine where she spent her leaving present of garden centre vouchers on various sombre plants, including one with dark ruby, almost black flowers which was gorgeous, but I can't remember its name. Vulgarly, I bought some orangey yellow marigolds, and a blue pot to put them in. The garden centre was just outside Ditchling village, and we drove up to the top of Ditchling Beacon for the world's shortest picnic. I got the heebie jeebies again and waves of vertigo, which was all a bit embarrassing. I managed a co
Suntrap and chill Breakfast with Lorraine this morning in my garden. We sat about drinking coffee, my eyes gladdened by my colourful pelargoniums. Actually I got too hot, as my microscopic yard is a suntrap on a summer's morning. Then I spent a couple of hours doing various bits of work. Just tidying up and completely reworking the very last poem of my collection. Only the title of the poem now remains unmolested: Chaos and the Cockroach. I applied today for a poetry surgery with Brendan Cleary - as it will be very useful to get some expert feedback. Read through my giftbook pamphlet, and discover with surprise that I am very proud of it, and that it works really well. A proper marketing push coming on that soon. Later Lorraine and I went off shopping. The town surging with tourists. L looking at dozens of filofaxes for her new job, opting for a large A4. I'm always happy to browse in stationery shops, but contented myself with buying some new yellow card. As it is a little
Among the antiques, an old friend Up early and made coffee for Bob, and we sipped it dolefully, somewhat sadder and wiser after what proved to be too many beers the night before. We are not as young as we were. Mad dog woke with a stiff neck which he blamed on swollen glands. He got a bit tetchy when I pointed out the fanciful nature of this diagnosis, and we bickered weakly till it was time for him to get his train. Worked for a few hours, then decided that more than anything else in the world I needed a new pot for one of my cacti. Nearby there is a shop with old fashioned beautifully coloured pots with a Kew Gardens stamp on. But something in me balks at paying £20 for a flower pot. Passing the antiques auction place I decided to pop in there to see what was what. There was no useful pots, however instead I found an old friend working in there. Cathy was a very good friend of my old friend Tim Gallagher. We'd not seen each other since shortly after his death. It was really good
Mad dog and mindgamesmanship This morning, in between working on poems and other matters, found myself scowling at the thought of money. However this Gordon Brownish glowering quickly turned into a bout of heel-clicking yippees, when an anonymous envelope poked through my letter flap turned out to be a sizable tax rebate. Skipped merrily down to the bank, inducing the bank employee to talk wistfully of a tax rebate he'd once had. Then for a swim, my first for a while and surprisingly, considering the heat of the day, not excessively busy. Breached up and down for half an hour, before returning home to a spot of light tiding, and a longish chat with Simon. Then Bob arrived hot foot from Eastbourne where he had been training people. After the old Mad dog had washed his feet in cooling water, there was some tea sipping and listening to the soothing murmury rock selection on my iPod. It was good to chat, before Bob and Claire and Millie move to Salisbury. Then off to the Caxton to pla
Three interesting shots Below Mason in Korea. (in the middle of the picture). He says: "as I recall that was dirty work: lots of mud. Thank God we didn't get stuck doing it for very long. Of the time I was there, it was cold, damp and mostly snowing. That's why the term for fellows like us was "Grunts", somebody had to do the dirty work. Anyway they needed me elsewhere as I was a sniper so I got moved on. The chap with me (Martinez) was a good friend and came home with me once along with around three other guys. That was after we returned. Those were the days......I was really thin then. Funny part was I think basically I liked the Marine Corps." The second photo is of Toby and Romy in Toronto several years ago, not too long after they were married. I took it in black and white at night (obviously). I spotted the Lucky Dragon sign and as Toby is a Dragon in Chinese astrology, I asked him and Romy to stop. I just really like this photo. Finally I think this
Chips with Hitchcock Hot sunny day here in Brighton. Sat typing at my desk for a few hours in my dressing gown before I decided that I had to be doing something a bit more physical. Spent a happy couple of hours scraping flaking paint from the windows downstairs, and giving them a new lick of paint. In the afternoon made off to my usual cafe where, supping an Americano, I had an excellent idea for one of the last poems to go in the collection. Excited by this, I hurried home to work on this again for a couple of hours. When Lorraine came we decided to sit on the pebbly beach, in the orangey pink evening light, and eat some fish and chips. This sounds idyllic but we were surrounded by Hitchockian seagulls beading us with their mad yellow eyes, and crowding too close. We'd already seen a few minutes earlier a seagull swoop down to a table and grab a half-eaten pizza and, finding it too big to flap off with, tore wildly at its cheesy topping. There are two tribes in Brighton, as I hav
What the doctor ordered Mum's appetite has returned but for odd things. She breakfasted on yeuchy frogspawny tapioca accompanied by a steaming mug of Marmite. Mum and I then pushed off to the Royal Free Hospital. First to the blood test department, and then to visit oncology to pick up a special yellow slip with "urgent" stamped on it and then back for the actual blood test. Before returning to Oncology. I must say the staff were very friendly, and the patients seemed mostly cheery and upbeat too. There was even a young volunteer there who was handing out cups of tea as you waited. Mum's doctor was pleasant, as was the chief colorectal nurse, which as job titles go leaves something to be desired. The doctor recommended another week off chemo before starting again, to get mum stabilised more. We all thought this was the right decision. Then Mum was sent up to Vascular Studies where a tetchy woman scanned Mum's ankle and confirmed that the slight swelling there wasn
Hollyhocks and cat-butts Slightly lacklustre and twitchy today. This morning doing invoicing. In the afternoon slugged up to London to stay with mum and mase. Listening to Mr Norrell and Jonathan Strange on the train going up. Pleased to see mum a good deal perkier and with the appetites of a lumberjack. She's able to think a lot straighter too, with not being dehydrated and drugged up to the gills. Spent a quiet late afternoon and evening chatting. In the evening, enjoyed getting my fork into a tamale pie that mase had made. Toby is arriving next Tuesday, which is splendid. It is the day after Aimee and Princess Lakshmi come to Brighton. So I may be feeling a tad delicate. First Matie called in the evening to say that she had been made redundant. This quite outrageous, but she seemed rather pleased about it. I told her that she was way too good for that place, which she was. She was heading off to the seaside instead of going to work. Bargain. A half complete text from Lorraine t
To Kent A trip to Kent with Lorraine and Beth off to Lorraine's parent's home on the edge of Ashford. Met her brother, disconcertingly called Kenny Peter, and his two daughters, his partner and her mother. As Lorraine and Beth entered the front door, Beth turned to me and asked if I'd brought my pepper spray, which was funny. We all sat down to a proper English Sunday roast of beef and potatoes and parsnips, and beans and cauliflower cheese. This was followed by the triumphant bread and butter pudding Lorraine had prepared the night before. I have had a conversation with Lorraine to clarify that there are only three legitimate puddings: apple pie (which of course is proverbially nice: "as nice as apple pie") bread and butter pudding, and lemon meringue. Other than the unimpeachable Christmas pudding (at Christmas), liking other puddings, with their fripperies and foreign stylings, betrays moral laxness and ought not to be encouraged, especially among children and
Eggs, chips and vampire zombies Working for several hours writing a thousand words article about Glyndebourne, and pinging it off to Kate at the magazine. As I typed about opera and sustainability, I was secretly thinking about egg and chips. For this morning I awoke with craving for a platter of those bad boys. Lorraine as usual came to the rescue. She knew where to source a decent lunchtime plateful, with three eggs tastefully arranged over a nest of chips. Afterwards I felt that whatever had driven the egg and chip craving had been sated. Probably for the next decade. An ex-colleague Mike Ferg and his wife Sandra, were down in Brighton. I met them and a Brighton based pal called Chippy. Mike has been fighting cancer for two and a half years, and the latest manifestation is chronic leukemia. He said that he makes the most of the good days, and this was one of them. And as he was in Brighton, we met up for a quick drink, and a catch up. Really good to see Mike, and his wife, who I'
A private triumph, and a trip to Glyndebourne Had an interesting day today. In the morning reworking a poem about Paul Klee which I am herding like an independently-minded cat into the collection. A eureka moment, and it finally fell into place after fiddling with it off and on for several years. A private moment of triumph that would mean absolutely nothing to anyone else, but YAY! anyway. In the afternoon off to Glyndebourne for an very interesting interview with Gus Christie who is the executive chairman of Glyndebourne, and grandson of its founders. I really liked him. Turns out he was passionate about the environment as well as opera, and had studied zoology, and made wildlife films before returning to the family business. We talked a lot about the new wind turbine that is going to be erected nearby to power the opera. It has created a lot of controversy, but he seemed to me to be very sincere about trying to do the right thing. Even the cab driver who took me back to Lewes statio
The soft bongs of history Mum is feeling and sounding much better. She can think more clearly, and even went out for a pub lunch. This is all most excellent progress. For me a quiet day, involving a few bits and pieces, and a bit of moving things around at home. One of these things was my grandparents' clock. It used to hang on the wall of their 16th century granite cottage in Guernsey. This cottage was an extremely spooky place at night. And if you happened to be lying awake, the fact that you could hear this clock strike sonorously from the fathom of darkness below was reassuring and strangely rational. When I was five I stood on a chair to reach its hands. I wanted to move them so that I wouldn't have to wait so long for a children's television programme to appear. When my grandfather died Mum gave it to me. I remember her and Mase, having driven around to my house, carrying it indoors like a child's coffin. I've had it repaired at some cost once, but it doesn&
The propaganda of cats Crawled from my airnest to gulp cups of coffee with Mase. Mum breakfasted lightly on water and ten pills followed by a bit of pancake with sugar and lemon. I started sneezing this morning and began cringing at the thought that I was about to introduce a cold into the house. So I set off for Brighton, threaded through the tubes to Victoria, where I missed my train by under a minute, the third time in a row this has happened. This for some reason made me feel infuriated. In fact there was a distinctly tetchy undercurrent to my last 48 hours. Sneezing abated however, which was good. Once home, several calls with Kate the new ON TRACK editor. And one with Emma, the pleasant press officer at Glyndebourne. I will be doing an interesting interview there on Friday. Also called Mum in the afternoon, and she sounded in good spirits, having just spoken to our Toby, who is coming over soon to stay with me. Also made an hour or so to work on my poems. Complex cat propaganda:
King Pippin's legacy Up to the smoke this afternoon, meeting Simon at Brighton Station, for a meeting in the Grosvenor hotel at Victoria - with is nicely tranquil after the melee outside. After a coffee and wait of half an hour or so, presented our brand thinking for a couple of hours to the Cat with the Hat and Kate the new magazine editor. From there I tubed it to Stanmore station, from where I walked in the sun to Mum and Mason’s place. They were not long back from hospital. Mum certainly a bit better than she was, although still not fully recovered. We sat in the garden and talked. The doctors are now saying that it is an adverse reaction to the chemotherapy, and are saying that when she gets back on a more even footing, they will lessen the dosage. Right now the idea of taking any more is anathema to Mum. I suggested the time for decision was not right now. I will go along for the conversation next week. There are over 30 pills to be taken every day, and some of them induce ti
A swallow tale Withdrew like an ammonite into its shell today, working on something which should have taken me a couple of hours, but ended up taking all day. Otherwise all quiet - several phone chats including with First Matie and Mas - and some business chat with Simon, and Mex contacted me with some useful connections in Brighton. In the evening finished Day by AL Kennedy which I really enjoyed. All about a Lancaster rear gunner who, in being an extra in a movie about POWs, begins to relive his war, and work through the damage it caused him. Just lovely, fabulous writing. AL Kennedy is a woman of many talents including being a stand up comedienne - and she handled this story with enormous authority and brilliance. Mum may be leaving hospital tomorrow, either way I will go up to visit, after attending a minor business meeting. Below this in from Joan. They are baby barn swallows in Ontario, which are exceedingly cute. They obligingly waited 45 minutes in the forest behind the farm
The magic never stops Feeling antsy today, so went for a walk by the sea at Hove with Lorraine, along with most of the population of the City and some Great Danes, which seemed abundant in the city this weekend. They wear yellow jackets with the logo of a Great Dane charity on them. This all made me think of Nev who owned two of the monsters when I worked with him. As leaden clouds eventually took over we then went to see Prince Caspian . I have loved the C.S. Lewis Narnia books from childhood, and I thought this was a pretty good adaptation of what was my least favourite story of the series. A bit Lord of the Rings lite in the fighting, but it also had a few moments that were its own mainly revolving around Aslan and Lucy. The Spanish-flavoured baddies were enjoyable too. I have absolutely no problem with the Christian undercurrents either. Dismissing a work on this basis is buffoonish, as if you'd have to disallow half of European culture in the last millennium too. Then I went
A hullabaloo in the park Mum still in hospital today, but is a little better and more stable. Talked to Mase a couple of times, and I think everyone is a little relieved that Mum is receiving treatment. Horrible to think of Mum back in hospital which bores her to distraction. Gave most of the day up to work, as I wanted to make sure the decks were clear to return to London early next week. Lorraine called and said that I should go into town to hear some singing as it was good for the soul. It was the National Street Choir festival which was held in Brighton this year. The town was full of choirs. Until recently Lorraine was heavily involved in the Hullabaloo Community Quire and we watched them singing in the park by the Pavilion. And very excellent they were too. Their inspirational musical director (and a Lorraine chum) Kirsty was in full force and conducting with her entire body. Back home, passing several choirs. The city full of song. Paused to see one from Manchester outside the L
Mum in hospital again Slept in this morning on my airbed nest. Had breakfast with Mum and Mase and then did a few bits a pieces around their house, working out how to use the VCR with Mase, and hoovering, as well as squeezing in a few business conversations. And one with Anton, which wasn't very businesslike. I was still worried about mum, who was not significantly better today. Although her back was much less painful. Shortly before I left, we had another chat about how she was feeling and we decided that she should call the hospital, especially as I only then realised that she has been experiencing persistent diarrhoea. She called the hospital as Mas dropped me off at the station to head back to Brighton. My mobile phone ran out of juice on the way home, and when I got home there was no reply when I called them, and I guessed the hospital had asked her to go in. Mas called me in the evening and said they had kept her in overnight. Mase said he and Mum were both relieved that she
Mum is unwell Off to see Mum and Mase today. Had a few bits to sort out first, and was feeling sluggish. Quite enjoyed the journey, and used it to work on my poems. Arrived at Mum and Mason's place, and I was concerned to find her not well. Her nausea has not abated with a change of pills, and she is feeling constantly sick, and actually was sick when I was there. I'm not sure if this is the chemotherapy, although she is on her week off now, or a worse version of the queasy bug that is doing the rounds. Mason anxious because he is trying to tempt her with food, which is difficult when even the thought of food makes her feel bad. As if this wasn't bad enough, she'd also badly hurt her back the day before and was in a good deal of pain. I did my best to take stock, and we had a recap of the pills she was taking, and I made sure she was taking the anti sickness ones which had slipped off the radar that day, because of the back. We did a fair amount of chatting, however, an
TV in a rainstorm A taxi this morning to take me to Simon's house, as the rain was falling heavily again - set to be the pattern for the rest of the summer apparently. A really nice taxi driver, however, who had a passion for steam engines and other hand-built objects such as wooden barrels. I've not personally lain awake with my mind racing over the features of hand made barrels, but his excitement and interest were infectious. I spent the day with Simon working at his house, as the rain dripped persistently outside. We were working on a branding exercise again. More spreading sheets on the floor and pages of mind maps. Although it was a complicated project we worked fairly painlessly and productively through it. We also had a little time about another project, once the branding work was done. Caught a bus back home and walked up Trafalgar street, feeling simultaneously hungry and spewy . The tiring queasy bug seems to have returned. Lorraine had it back at the weekend too. It
And the stars look down A decent run at my manuscript this morning, then a few calls. Including with Mum. In the afternoon I left home on an astrological matter, passing a massive dead television left in the twitten. I met Diane, Reuben's mum, in my usual cafe. She had asked me to look at her horoscope, which I did although I have officially retired as an astrologer. It is an odd PK fact that when I went through my Marxist warehouse hand phase, shortly after I left university, that I had a sideline as a professional astrologer. I had taught myself how to cast horoscopes in my teens (which now can be done in a split second on sites like astrodienst ) and consulted various reference books to write accounts of people's birthcharts. In my experience when you accurately cast someone's horoscope it can seem accurate, though I think it would be a big mistake to live your life by it. Still, it felt very Brightonish to be discussing things like the nature of rising signs and the i
Après moi le Deluge Ghastly night's sleep not helped by a gale which rattled the windows, and Lorraine's cats which kept interfering with me. One of them, Basil, has a habit of patiently resting one of her paws on you till you wake up. This is her cue to step away, sporting an expression which says, in cat language, "that was my idea". Experimenting today with podcasts. As a pilot I uploaded my podcast of this site . As I love the sound of my own voice so much, I may try other bits and pieces. A while ago I added a blog link to Mandy's blog . Mandy, who now lives in NZ was at the same school as me, Copland High School in Wembley in the year below mine. As you can see from her blog which carries a photo of her from 1978 that, unlike me, Mandy looks exactly the same. Galling's what I call it. You may notice that Mandy rather likes Bob Dylan. Also working on my poetry - but in a slightly disorganised way so the day slipped through my fingers with little to show
under another sun - the podcast This blog is now a podcast too. Yes folks. As recorded in my study just this weekend, it's me reading my entries for June. What could be nicer than having me chat away to you about the minutae of my life as you travel or sit at your computer? Er... Don't answer that. It's a bit of a pilot obviously and I expect it will get slicker if I continue it. But let me know what you think... To spark it up just click here which will take you onto an Internet Archive page. Technophobes should then simply click where it says "underanothersun_june click to start." More advanced users can select one of the other formats. When I tried one randomly it appeared in my iTunes right away.
Red flags Decided not to work on my poems today, and have a Sunday simply doing nothing. Went to Nia for a breakfast with Lorraine, and then spent a happy several hours mooching about. Went into a new gallery called Blue Dog which was mainly showing art from Poland. Some extremely wonderful throne-like chairs in there made from metal and glass. Then off through a variety of shops. I bought a pair of sneakers in a sale. Went down to the sea, which was wild and stormy. The red flags were out, reminding lunatics not to swim in the wild khaki waves which boiled with foam. The sea was clapping into the groynes and sending spray up, as the seabirds flew low and into the wind above the beach. I lurked about in the spray and rain taking a few photos. This, as my Grandmother would have said, blew the cobwebs off. Lorraine enjoying this despite having her hair plastered to her head. Then for a spot more shopping this time in the mall, where I bought a sheet. We went to the cafe which had window
An evening with Anil Working most of the day on my poems. Talked to Simon, and looking forward to getting our heads together next week on special marketing projects. Also spoke to Mum, who I'll see next week. Thinking of making this blog into a podcast too... In the evening went off to meet Anil, an old schoolmate, in the Tin Drum. We quaffed some beers and picked at vegetarian mezze and generally caught up. And there was a lot of catching up to be done with someone you have known since you were 12, and have only seen once in about the last 25 years. Anil is in love with a lady in Hove, and thinking of moving down here. Interesting to see him, as we've only met once a couple of years ago, since shortly after being at school together. He was on fine Woody Allenish form. We were joined by Lorraine later, who gamefully experienced some of the nonsense. So that we could hear each other more clearly, we shifted venue to the Battle of Trafalgar, which was thankfully but a short lurch
Cursing in the coffee shop Made more good progress on my poems, but am worried that I am turning into barking grouch. I was in costa coffee this afternoon, having my afternoon cup of jo (as Agent Cooper would have called it) and treating the place as my own private study, when in walked some teenage girls. These girls saw some other girls and the most over the top greeting ritual began, with them all flinging their arms around one another and giving vent to piercing screams of simulated joy and amazement. It is all harmless attention seeking of course, and being unable to hear myself think, I was forced to listen to them. It transpired that they hadn't seen each other since last week . Sadly the screaming forced me to involuntarily and quite loudly curse aloud, which is exactly how reputations for being mad start. You can innocently be sitting in a cafe working on your poetry manuscript, and seconds later be dragged off to a laughing academy. As for the poetry manuscript, called Th
A hot knife through butter A fabulous day's work, with a strangely fresh and clear mind. I suddenly could see instantly what was improvable about several poems, and which poems should be dropped from the collection. Real clarity which left me feeling elated, and with a significantly improved collection. I even managed a doze for an hour in the middle of the day, which rebooted me for another fruitful session in the cafe. After this I went for a walk along the seafront in the strong wind and sun, the sea choppy and blue, and I felt tremendously validated. Met Lorraine, who'd parked down by the seafront, and after a short walk we had some Japanese food at seven dials, which gave me the opportunity to be a world authority on Japan for a while, which was nice too. Feeling that I must not become distracted. Times like this are rare, I must exploit it. Back to work!
Pressing on Woke up at six and, as it was a me day, I simply got up and began work on my poems. Slightly dreary weather today, but I spent hours making some excellent progress. Odd to look at your watch at 10am and think that you have already done three and a half hours work. In the afternoon I shifted operations to Costa Coffee as this small change of scene seems to work disproportionately well, especially as my eyes are tired, after almost unbroken squinting at my computer since Sunday. This evening, I had a long chat with the Cat with the Hat who is going to force me to wheel out my shabby French as his Francophone son is coming over to stay shortly. He was yearning after the kinds of philosophical debate he had in his youth in France, and threatening to reinstate them here which is slightly alarming. Went out with Lorraine this evening whose kids are both abroad. She'd just had had her back cracked , and we slid off to have a pizza in Zizzi. I felt brain dead however, and was l
One of my ideas Generally big and clever today. Sent my proposals for the French bread business off early, and then met Simon at Brighton station, from where we travelled to Croydon to meet the Cat with the Hat, who was sporting his elegant brown straw. We toddled off from there to have an hour and a half meeting nearby with some pleasant marketing folks in a rail company. I did a certain amount of holding forth, and warmed to their lady marketing manager instantly, which helped. Then Simon and I travelled back to Brighton, and we are going to meet up next week, in combats and bandannas, to discuss some guerrilla marketing. Home and did a certain amount of light faffing before going off to a cafe again to fiddle with a poem for a few moments before my nice French client called. We chatted for at least half an hour, and it turns out she was very pleased with the the work I'd done. A nice way to earn a crust/dough/bread etc. (So many bread words are money words.) My French English d