Kate gets on her bike
Insomnia. Eventually I went downstairs and reread Black Venus, a short story by Angela Carter about Baudelaire's mistress. Carter was an amazing writer, but there are things about the story which under normal circumstances may have put me off. The first few pages are vague, there are references to Eve and a floaty unfocused poeticism. But the indulgence of the language makes sense when it becomes clear that the story is about the woman who was to become Baudelaire's muse. The virtues of patience as a reader are more easy to come by in the morning.
Eventually dozing at around six, as Calliope watched me like a hawk a foot away from my face. Sluggish morning. Lorraine returned from shopping and driving Beth with a Zumba for Wii game, and proceeded to do Calypso dancing in front of the TV. I did some too, while Lorraine laughed at me.
Then off to meet First Matie who had come to Brighton for a nice beer in the Basketmakers, and we sauntered off to Oki Nami for a Japanese grub. Kate telling us about her new adventure: cycling for hundreds of miles in Kenya in November. She is starting to get fit now too, buy building up her core strength and is planning to cycle like a mad thing in preparation.
Fond farewells to Kate in the teeming rain, Lorraine and I popped into The Eagle, across the road from the Basketmakers, where Irish Tom had been running his Tomfoolery evening for Paddy's Day. Lots of cheery Irish folk and sympathisers drinking Guinness and having fun. It was rude not to have a final Guinness with them too before Lorraine and I sloped home.
Insomnia. Eventually I went downstairs and reread Black Venus, a short story by Angela Carter about Baudelaire's mistress. Carter was an amazing writer, but there are things about the story which under normal circumstances may have put me off. The first few pages are vague, there are references to Eve and a floaty unfocused poeticism. But the indulgence of the language makes sense when it becomes clear that the story is about the woman who was to become Baudelaire's muse. The virtues of patience as a reader are more easy to come by in the morning.
Eventually dozing at around six, as Calliope watched me like a hawk a foot away from my face. Sluggish morning. Lorraine returned from shopping and driving Beth with a Zumba for Wii game, and proceeded to do Calypso dancing in front of the TV. I did some too, while Lorraine laughed at me.
Then off to meet First Matie who had come to Brighton for a nice beer in the Basketmakers, and we sauntered off to Oki Nami for a Japanese grub. Kate telling us about her new adventure: cycling for hundreds of miles in Kenya in November. She is starting to get fit now too, buy building up her core strength and is planning to cycle like a mad thing in preparation.
Fond farewells to Kate in the teeming rain, Lorraine and I popped into The Eagle, across the road from the Basketmakers, where Irish Tom had been running his Tomfoolery evening for Paddy's Day. Lots of cheery Irish folk and sympathisers drinking Guinness and having fun. It was rude not to have a final Guinness with them too before Lorraine and I sloped home.
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