Freezing in the sunshine

A summer's day. Up and working on poems first thing as sometimes you have to ride that poetry pony. Into an editing phase now on the latest crop. I love this kind of tinkering, replacing individual words in poems you suspect are pretty good.

Called by the agency up in Tavistock Square, which pleased me greatly as the Kenny coffers need a new influx. Schlepped up into London, working on new poems, for a late afternoon briefing, London much hotter than Brighton. Somewhat disappointingly the brief turned out to be a day, day-and-a-half job. Still, better than nothing and nice to see some old friends again. Train home freezing due to exuberant air conditioning, reading Ahkmatova describing snowy Russian scenes and forlorn lovers.

Sudden mental exhaustion and depression when I got to Brighton. Wanted to go for a cheeky beer, and went around to Lorraine's house where I was fed, then we drove off to pick up Betty, who had been chaperoning two naughty children up in London for auditions all day, and who had a face like thunder when we arrived to collect them. Home again, having dropped off kids x2. Beer at last! But no, Lorraine had to move the car and another delay. Then to The Signalman. Halfway through my pint the world seemed suddenly entirely manageable again. Sometimes a simple beer, and the company of a most excellent woman, can penetrate the worst of glooms.

Comments

a said…
"A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse - and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness -"