Full moon and foxes
Woken up at an early hour by a crashing about and strange yelps in my front patch of garden. Calliope looking alarmed on the end of my bed. Leapt up as someone had recently kicked at some trellising. Imagine my surprise when I saw two urban* foxes on my doorstep. I lent out of my window clapping, and one made off through the, now clearly fox-made, hole in the trellising. I think the filthy beasts had the effrontery to be breeding too. On my doorstep.
Needled three times this morning in an attempt to get blood. Nurse apologetic but kept on jabbin'. Luckily despite being a hysteric and a hypochondriac I seem to be okay about having blood taken.
Then home working on my new poems for a bit before shooting off up to the smoke on a double mission. First off to the South Bank to drop of a brace of Guernsey Doubles into the National Poetry Library, and spend a couple of hours reading through the latest poetry magazines. Curiously heartened by the idea-free, emotionless, rhythm and tin-eared fare on offer. Decided that the poems Richard and I put together were nothing to be ashamed of, if not vastly superior. On this positive note, I melted away, calling Richard to let him know my findings. Nice to know that I have, at long last, a book to nestle in the National poetry collection's shelves.
Texting with Klaudia today, after Anna had texted me. Sweet thing she is.
Then after walking across the new Hungerford footbridge, which is much improved on the old one which wobbled every time a train passed next to you, for another night with the French. Tonight there was Alex, who I am liking a lot, Justine, Katharina who is German, Delphine, and a man called Eric. We were joined by a pleasant English lady from a printers, and two digital folk. One of whom, a Chinese man called Alex from Hong Kong was very interesting about China. He thinks that there will be a great deal of social unrest when the growth stalls, as it inevitably will do.
The printing lady and digital folk left, and the rest of us were taken out to a French style restaurant called Côte by Eric. Very average food, rubbery moules etc., but good company: some laughing about the English woman who dumped a cat in a bin, and then an appalling story, inevitably from Alexandra, about a French woman who had a total of seven babies, but who did not know what to do with them so put them in a freezer.
Home then listening to my iPod under a full moon.
* I am fairly sure they were urban as one was listening to Tinie Tempah on its earphones.
Below two London snaps a little after 5:30pm. The Thames, a study of greys with St Paul's Cathedral on the left. The entrance to Embankment Station. A chilly feel for this time of year.
Woken up at an early hour by a crashing about and strange yelps in my front patch of garden. Calliope looking alarmed on the end of my bed. Leapt up as someone had recently kicked at some trellising. Imagine my surprise when I saw two urban* foxes on my doorstep. I lent out of my window clapping, and one made off through the, now clearly fox-made, hole in the trellising. I think the filthy beasts had the effrontery to be breeding too. On my doorstep.
Needled three times this morning in an attempt to get blood. Nurse apologetic but kept on jabbin'. Luckily despite being a hysteric and a hypochondriac I seem to be okay about having blood taken.
Then home working on my new poems for a bit before shooting off up to the smoke on a double mission. First off to the South Bank to drop of a brace of Guernsey Doubles into the National Poetry Library, and spend a couple of hours reading through the latest poetry magazines. Curiously heartened by the idea-free, emotionless, rhythm and tin-eared fare on offer. Decided that the poems Richard and I put together were nothing to be ashamed of, if not vastly superior. On this positive note, I melted away, calling Richard to let him know my findings. Nice to know that I have, at long last, a book to nestle in the National poetry collection's shelves.
Texting with Klaudia today, after Anna had texted me. Sweet thing she is.
Then after walking across the new Hungerford footbridge, which is much improved on the old one which wobbled every time a train passed next to you, for another night with the French. Tonight there was Alex, who I am liking a lot, Justine, Katharina who is German, Delphine, and a man called Eric. We were joined by a pleasant English lady from a printers, and two digital folk. One of whom, a Chinese man called Alex from Hong Kong was very interesting about China. He thinks that there will be a great deal of social unrest when the growth stalls, as it inevitably will do.
The printing lady and digital folk left, and the rest of us were taken out to a French style restaurant called Côte by Eric. Very average food, rubbery moules etc., but good company: some laughing about the English woman who dumped a cat in a bin, and then an appalling story, inevitably from Alexandra, about a French woman who had a total of seven babies, but who did not know what to do with them so put them in a freezer.
Home then listening to my iPod under a full moon.
* I am fairly sure they were urban as one was listening to Tinie Tempah on its earphones.
Below two London snaps a little after 5:30pm. The Thames, a study of greys with St Paul's Cathedral on the left. The entrance to Embankment Station. A chilly feel for this time of year.
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