At the sharp end

Met Dawn at the station as she'd given my keys to her daughter by mistake. Then off to London to work on a pitch with my chums in Tavistock Square. Reading the paper on the way up. The train snaking past The Shard near London Bridge station, which is climbing ever-more piercingly into the sky.

To Tavistock Square for a fair amount of chin stroking culminating in a teleconference in a roomful of people with Matty boy and The French Bloke on the phone. The FB sounding understandably a bit ropey. Working with Andy, and art director I worked with a year or so ago, and who is refreshingly easy to work with.

Then home on the train, reading the paper and one or two Akhmatova poems. Not trusting my ears enough to use earphones. My dodgy ear is now gradually improving. Clicking and gurgling a good deal, which must be a good thing, and there are time when sound is definitely coming through it. Lorraine cooking a fricassee tonight. Not entirely sure what a fricassee is but it tasted rather splendid. Lorraine on Skype talking to her brother in Finland, and her niece Klaudia, who is going to stay with us in February. To bed early.

Below the shard in construction shot through the grimy train window.