Interrupted by pie and thunder
Thunder woke me, so up early and began straight away working on my poems in the light of yesterday's conversation - and seeing some instant improvements. What is slightly maddening is that several of them are reverting to how they were a while ago. There is a lesson in this, and I hope I am learning it. But thanks to Brendan a short collection of about 22 poems has suddenly revealed itself.
At 10 I went off to LA Fitness and had a swim in the empty pool. I was reminded of the Westworld movie - with the gym being populated by a few unspeaking automata - but maybe that's just Sunday Morning. Something cold about this, but I prefer it to the thrashing about and child dodging of the public pool.
Then a mooch in the damp flea market by the station but, apart from two sweetcorn cobs, nothing took my fancy. So I returned home for a very sensible lunch of brown rice, fish, veggies and a glass of sparkling water with a squeeze of lemon, and was just settling down to listen to the final bit of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell when Anton knocked on my door with a very welcome piece of apple pie from Anna. As everyone knows, apple pies are the best pies so I wolfed it down instantly, slightly undoing all the brown rice work.
Then more work, and at long last finished the JS&MrN which I feel I have been reading forever. A great achievement, but one that cries out for a hard edit. Although I know Anton wanted it to go on longer.
Lorraine called by after dropping her parents off at the station, and we had supper and talked for a few hours, and watched some junk TV. Her new job starts tomorrow, and she left full of optimism about it, which was good to see. And then after watching Chelsea be held to a draw on TV I went blamelessly to bed.
Thunder woke me, so up early and began straight away working on my poems in the light of yesterday's conversation - and seeing some instant improvements. What is slightly maddening is that several of them are reverting to how they were a while ago. There is a lesson in this, and I hope I am learning it. But thanks to Brendan a short collection of about 22 poems has suddenly revealed itself.
At 10 I went off to LA Fitness and had a swim in the empty pool. I was reminded of the Westworld movie - with the gym being populated by a few unspeaking automata - but maybe that's just Sunday Morning. Something cold about this, but I prefer it to the thrashing about and child dodging of the public pool.
Then a mooch in the damp flea market by the station but, apart from two sweetcorn cobs, nothing took my fancy. So I returned home for a very sensible lunch of brown rice, fish, veggies and a glass of sparkling water with a squeeze of lemon, and was just settling down to listen to the final bit of Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell when Anton knocked on my door with a very welcome piece of apple pie from Anna. As everyone knows, apple pies are the best pies so I wolfed it down instantly, slightly undoing all the brown rice work.
Then more work, and at long last finished the JS&MrN which I feel I have been reading forever. A great achievement, but one that cries out for a hard edit. Although I know Anton wanted it to go on longer.
Lorraine called by after dropping her parents off at the station, and we had supper and talked for a few hours, and watched some junk TV. Her new job starts tomorrow, and she left full of optimism about it, which was good to see. And then after watching Chelsea be held to a draw on TV I went blamelessly to bed.
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