under another sun

Last day in the Barbarie. Lorraine not wanting breakfast this morning, so I strapped on the nosebag alone, reading the paper. Andrew Coleman came and said hello, enquiring after Mrs Kenny. Lorraine is enjoying being called Mrs Kenny at the Barbarie, after several years of being there as my fancy woman. A walk once we'd packed, back to Icart and a short turn on the cliffs. Tried out the panorama function on the iPhone. Both of us feeling quite sad to be leaving so soon, but so happy to have had this break and time together after all the frenzy of the last couple of weeks. Back to the Barbarie for a ham sandwich, where I found I could not resist a final pint of beer. Then a taxi to the airport. The flight home obnoxious, the plane bouncing and bumping around. (The pilot had claimed it would be a 'relatively' smooth flight, a weasel word if ever I heard one). I hate not being able to see anything through the window, other than cloud, but when you can see nothing my imagina

Something of a slow start to the day, tucked into breakfast and hung about in a leisurely way, before going for a walk. Wandered down La Rue des Grons, looking wistfully at the old family home. Walked back into St Martin's where we caught a bus into town. The driver refused to charge us double, which is a controversial new States of Guernsey policy, with the bus price for locals being half. By chance the bus also had one of my poems Hooked as a poster in it. You can't help but be cheered by this sort of thing. Some wandering about in town, a spot of shopping, with Lorraine buying some tops, before meeting Richard and Jane in Delice. This is the new name for the old market square cafe I have haunted for many years. Richard and Jane had made it back to Guernsey safely, and had caught one of the few trains available, meaning they spent a good deal of time waiting at Gatwick. Good to be able to chat to them properly for a bit. Had a glass of wine, and they introduced us to  ga

A lovely day in Guernsey with puffy white clouds hurrying across the blue sky. After a full Guernsey breakfast, much improved ingredients this time, spent much of the day wandering happily in the parish of my childhood. Pausing to put yellow flowers on my grandparents grave, and chatting to the woman in Brouards flower shop, going into St Martins, saying hello to La Gran'mère   and telling her Lorraine and I had got married and other essentials. We went into La Bella Luce and had a cup of pleasant but pricey coffee there, listening to strangely lounge style pop classics, including a very weird one just as we were leaving of Let's Stay Together , which was our wedding song. Then down to Moulin Huet, which was at high tide. We sat on the bench overlooking the bay, watching large waves surge in and swell and whiten between the rocks.  For me this is one of the magical places in the world, and Lorraine is spellbound by it too. We spent an hour or so there, before climbing back

Wild gales and hurricane force winds overnight. One of the Velux widows was yanked open by weird air pressure. And the rain battered the roof in a savage way. The morning a little calmer, though exceedingly blustery. No trains to Gatwick from Brighton, so Lorraine drove us. Luckily, we encountered no obstacles, and arrived in good time. Amazingly the plane was exactly on schedule too. As we were flying into the remains of a hurricane, I took the precaution of taking a tranquilliser. But this proved unnecessary, for beyond a fair degree of lurching and sheering as we landed, it was a surprisingly pleasant journey, passing between white castles of cloud. Waiting for the case to arrive on the carousel, glanced up to see people standing on Brighton beach discussing the weather on the TV. Pleasant local cab driver took us to La Barbarie. A warm welcome, and after Raivis gave us a free cup of tea and coffee we were upgraded to one of their lovely new rooms, where we found a small bottl

The house to ourselves, Lorraine sat in bed opening Wedding presents like kids on Christmas day. Luckily we both felt fairly fresh this morning, Lorraine because she hadn't drunk too much, and me through audacious luck. After a hasty breakfast, we sped off to The Cricketers . The staff were dancing when we entered, and stopped sheepishly.  All very friendly, and we collected left over Sussex cheeses, various table dressings, flowers and other bits and pieces, and one of them told Lorraine that he thought it had been the best wedding they'd had there. Then to Anton's place, where Anton, Anne and the bairns were in the car outside, and Anton let me in to collect my suit carrier. Hugs from Klaudia and Oskar, then we parked around the corner and stuffed my suit back into the suit carrier, flapping about in what had become a very strong wind. Down to The Old Ship Hotel to collect Pat, Maureen, Mum and Mas. The wind down by the sea enough to lean into. Leaving the others fo

Our wedding day started as usual with the cats plaguing us resentfully for breakfast. A bit of bleary tea sipping as an excited Beth bounded in, and shortly after the flower lady delivered the bouquets. Beth out to collect more gypsophilia as well as arancini and egghogs from the reassuringly middle class Arkwrights. Sam making coffee, and Lorraine and I cooking a large breakfast for everyone, figuring we'd be too nervous for food later. Then Dawn arrived to take Lorraine, Beth and I in her wee green car, which we loaded with boxes of flowers, candles, table placings, iPod, etc. as well as the wedding cake that the lovely Dawn had made us, and drove off to the Cricketers. People were paid, tables were sprinkled, gypsophilia and white roses arranged, and emergency repairs done to the cake which had shifted slightly in the car. Then all back home. Sam and Jade had left, and then all the ladies went off to Paul the uber-hairdresser  armed with sparkling wine. While they were there

Below after the ceremony in the Red Room, we pushed off to the Music Room in the Pavilion to have some snaps taken. Lorraine and I looking like we own the place. Pat and Maureen, L & P,  Mum and Mas Betty, L & P, Jade and Sam Brian, Anna, L & P, Anton, with young Oskar and Klaudia First Matie, Tasha, Isy, Matty boy, L &  P, bouncy Max, The French Bloke, Craig and Mel. Libby, Rachel, Andrew John, Sue, L & P Jeremy and Leslie behind Jane and Richard 

The wedding process on Lorraine's organiser down to its penultimate day of preparation. Up and scarfing Quorn sausage and egg sandwiches with Lorraine and Betty to fuel the day. Lorraine showed me the box of memories that her friends had assembled. An old tin with a Japanese-style design, which, like the tins in The Basketmakers, was full of messages: all lovely things about Lorraine: poems, old coins, memories from the past of times with her girlfriends, and heart chocolates and so on which Lorraine obviously loved. After breakfast Lorraine and Betty powered off, while I relished an hour trying to keep calm and smoothing the cats on the gold sofa. The ladies returned with the wedding dress, my wedding clothes, and Beth had bought me some wedding socks.  They had also picked up flowers for the table decorations. I was banned from Beth's bedroom due to Lorraine's wedding dress hanging in there. Spent hours struggling with iTunes on my temperamental desktop. Lorraine ca

Excitement mounting in the Old Church Hall. Lorraine off to meet Betty, who came back this afternoon, to have their nails done, where Lorraine said they were told an appalling tale of a kitten being savaged by a terrier, but surviving. I went to the gym, for mild mannered workout.  Bob called while I was there. Home and after I showered, Lorraine and Beth arrived brandishing gleaming red talons. Much scurrying about, mainly by me as Lorraine claimed her nails prevented her from doing anything. I cooked a spag bol then Lorraine and Beth sauntered out to be picked up in a taxi, for a girl's night out sipping cocktails with twenty of Lorraine's girlfriends. Meanwhile I sauntered off to meet Matt in the Foundry, where we had a few cheeky beers and a good chat. Then to The Blue Man where the Shakespeare Heptet were doing their thing. I'd never been here before, a lovely place, and the band playing well. Lots of folks there I knew. Chatted with Matt, members of the band,

Lorraine off work now too. So we are both feeling officially holidayish. She up and off to Hove to have her hair lovingly tended to. After going to the gym in the morning I met Lorraine, with gleaming sleek hair, outside the Pavilion. We went inside to meet Sarah, who took us through again for a look at the Red Room, which I'd not seen. Lovely venerable room, with paintings of the nobility and plush touches of the Orientalism that pervades the whole building.  Sarah then walked us through to the Music Room, which although Id seen it before, I was still taken aback at the visual feast it represents, and it will be a marvellous backdrop to the doings of Saturday, which is where we'll have some snaps taken. Meanwhile my solicitor says things seem to be on the move and I authorised her today to sign the contract on my behalf. This means, God willing, that the sale will go through in the next few weeks. Officially parking the whole house sale malarkey and its attendant stress ti

Trying to forge a semblance of organisation, getting my ducks in a row. Property ducks: wrote to solicitors, the house buyers and so on. By the end of the day it seems like things are edging towards completion. Have now done all I can do on this, so am going to forget all about it till after the wedding. Project ducks: Dawn around for an hour this afternoon, planning a writing session for gifted and talented children using a wartime bunker and the power of the imagination. It is an interesting project. Gym ducks: still feeling like I don't have the full bounce, but did a reasonable session. Amazing how after ten minutes or so your mood naturally and very quickly lifts. It is worth exercising simply for the psychological lift it gives you if nothing else. Popped into the pharmacy today, which is being redecorated but is still working. A single desk and till in a stripped bare brick room, with rooms behind where the pharmacists are working still the same. Wedding ducks: wrote

Back up to Tavistock Square. Train late. Worked very hard on lots of digital copy with charming people, but this made the day pass in a flash, only squeezing in time to talk to my solicitor about the house sale, correspond with the buyers and so on. The house sale drags at me like a giant tapeworm. Today the buyer's solicitors took a turn to be squirm hatefully in the GI tract of the sale. Nice chats with Matty boy, Pat and First Matie. Then a draggy journey home. Someone under a train somewhere, meant delays, two trains replaced by one small one, and crammed with passengers. Arrived home feeling tetchy and stressed. Lorraine returned home from singing in the choir to compose an email to the Cricketers, after an unsatisfactory reply. Rain enthusiastic. Saturday will probably be wet. Gah.

Up and off to Steyning to see Dawn for danish and coffee. Dawn's charming daughter Ellie is staying with her at the moment, and Russ, Ellie's nice boyf with a beard. Lots of chatting with Dawn, about the wedding, and also planning the session for gifted and talented children we will do early in November.  Lots of ideas flying about, Lorraine joining in too. When I've worked in schools before I have been thrown in the deep end and had to sink or swim mostly alone, so working with Dawn will be great, and I can learn lots from her. Home and then to The Basketmakers for a late lunch and to catch up with Matt. An utter deluge just before we left, and during our walk there. Preston Road at the bottom of our street, a running torrent. A couple of snaps below, but what it fails to capture is the rushing sound the water made. Dried off in the Basketmakers, eating a roast that was exponentially better than last week's one in the Signalman. A couple of beers with Matt and ch

L and I up and at em' (albeit slowly) this morning. Off to The Cricketers to discuss things about next week. A bit of wrangling with them, for although we booked the rooms for the day, they have also booked in a small party there during the afternoon, potentially disrupting our decoration of the room.  All part of the process, but wearying. This done off to get my hair, or what remains of it, cut. Area of concern is fully established now; a powerful country in a fading continent of head hair. An attentive cut that involved taking care of business with a new upsurge in replacement hairs such as eyebrows, rogue neck hairs, ear sprouts etc. for a £10. Bargain. To the gym then, for a substantial workout, having been up in London for the last few days. Home and football focus on the gold sofa, a bit of a snooze, then off to Seven Dials, still half asleep, to meet up with Rosie to celebrate her birthday (which is the day after mine) with some of her pals. Went to Blenio for a fairl

A ghastly start to the day. Somewhat bleary due to Mai Tai consumption (an unpleasantly pineapple hangover), sometime before six we heard Brian arrived through the cat flap doing his triumphalist meeping. Sometime later he came up the stairs with a live mouse squeaking in terror. Ghastly scenes, of both cats playing with the mouse, which ran about for its life. I shooed off Calliope and cornered Brian who growled at me and then dashed off down the stairs with his prey. Lorraine was on the stairs, suddenly chased by cats and rodents and screamed quite loudly. Brian took the mouse outside thankfully, and only brought it back to show us it was dead, and I had to tidy it away. No way to start the day, and explained why I spent the first few hours of the morning with my boxer shorts on back to front. Which made me feel I was walking in the wrong direction. Off to London, through the fog. Crossing the Ardingly Viaduct rather magical as you felt the train was flying through nothing. Work

Up to Tavistock Square. Working on a job which is more construction and assemblage than much creativity or copywriting. Highlight of a work day, sloping off to Waitrose with Pat at lunch to buy a banana and a sandwich. After work drinks at the agency, and I spent much time talking to various ladies at the office keen to hear about my upcoming nuptials. I had three glasses of Mai Tai as cocktails were being served as some new department was forming elsewhere in the building. Can't remember drinking Mai Tais before. Suddenly had to leg off, having noticed the time and realised the Mai Tai's had gone straight to my head. Floaty feeling on the train on which I dozed before getting home to my Lorraine and food she had prepared earlier. Below a random snap of Autumn marching in to Marchmont Street with an orange coat. The blue plaque is where Kenneth Williams lived.

Poor night's sleep, but up and off to Tavistock Square. Tinkering with advertising copy for Sophie on the train. Then into see my friends at the agency. Sat next to Pat and working on copy for the digital department about the rollout of an app. Pulses not thrumming, but it was nice to see everyone and good for the besieged Kenny coffers. Sloped out at lunch with Katie, in drenching rain. Interminable seeming journey home. However once back I skipped Niles Crane-like to the decanter, whereupon I poured two thimble sized glasses of PX (Pedro Ximénez) sherry for Lorraine and me. Lorraine had written down our description of it in a special book earlier in the week. We got prunes, figs, raisins, and notes of liquorice. Delicious. And so, early, to bed.

Rather a full day. Lorraine working at home today too, still nurturing her heel. I pushed on with the book, did more stuff connected with the infernal house sale,  and sloped off to the gym despite having a bit of a swollen knee, which after a long workout weirdly sorted itself out. Odd.  Called by my amigos in Tavistock Square to book me for the rest of the week.  Dawn called me too, and we are going to do a session together for gifted and talented children about poetry and advertising, which should be really good fun. Also called by Sophie about an advert for her too. A rice and fish and steamed veggies supper, then I made off to the a bar full of Scandinavians called Northern Lights, where the Shakespeare Heptet were playing. I have to say they were absolutely excellent. Percussion, bass, banjo (Steve) and two guitars (Dipak and Richard), and a complex lovely sound they are making now was a bit of a revelation.  The Northern Lights a cool place too. Serving Scandinavian f

Up and off to the hospital with Lorraine, who was having an injection in her heel. Fished for a taxi at Preston Circus and we arrived early. We had to wait in the A&E area, but luckily beyond a vomiting woman and a boy who had come off his motorbike and hurt his shoulder there was nothing too alarming going on while I waited for Lorraine to be needled. Lorraine walking out looking cheery. Always more fun to be leaving. Taxied home, Lorraine talking in the particularly friendly way she reserves for taxi drivers which always amuses me. As Lorraine recovered downstairs for a bit before coming upstairs to work. I got on with the book for the rest of the day. The day, however, ended with the latest hurdle of many on the Twitten: wall experts have said the bungeroosh back wall must be treated for damp. Luckily I am developing the first feelings of philosophical resignation about this, and refrained from bellowing bugger the bungeroosh. Between bouts of stress, I am feeling more philo

A delicate and wan morning. Felt a glow of cheer though, after what had been one of the happiest birthdays I can remember. Lorraine cooked Scotch pancakes which were utterly delicious. Sprawled about on the sofa and chairs with Lorraine, First Matie and Betty (who had gone out clubbing after we left the Basketmakers... Ah the stamina of youth). We watched programmes about Autumn fruits and all chuckled as a male chef commented about a succession of sweet, tasty, surprisingly large plums. Eventually the endless cups of tea and mineral water and breakfast and general slumping did their magic work. Betty back up to London, and First Matie, L and I went up the road to the Signalman for roast lunch. It was nice to walk up Ditchling Rise however, the road gutters gleaming with freshly fallen conkers. Sadly though the food quality at the Signalman has plummeted. Won't be going back there to eat any time soon. I also had a solitary kill or cure beer: a pint of Darkness, a dark malty

An uncommon amount of presents and cards. In bed with Lorraine this morning opening my presents almost as soon as I could open my eyes, which included a decanter so that L and I can return home in the manner of Frasier and Niles Crane and help ourselves to a sherry, a bottle of sherry and sherry glasses, and the boxed set of The Wire TV series. Lorraine then cooked me a substantial and delicious breakfast to set us up for the day. We devoted time to discussing wedding stuff, talking about music during the wedding and so on. Betty arrived home for the weekend after teaching in Shana's stage school in the morning and gave me a lovely card and a book of poems. Then off into town where we encountered First Matie, loitering outside a shop in the North Laine who had come to Brighton for a birthday surprise.  Kate got me one of those Moleskine notebooks I love. We repaired to the Eagle where we were going to meet Anton and the Bairns for food but it was too busy, as was the rest of Br

Calliope has taken to sleeping at my feet again in the night, but where in the past she would reluctantly budge if I turned over, now she lets the chi energy course through her so as to become a cat of unmovable stone. Very annoying. Up early and working by 7:30 with clarity of mind about what needs to be done on the big edit of the book. Quite good sorting through some of the worst bits of my own writing lately, a sobering lesson in avoiding self indulgence and the necessity of murdering your literary babies. Set to it. Lunchtime to at the gym and despite the cold feeling better about it today. A cold rainy afternoon. Lorraine home early for the first time this week, and we snuck off to the Shahi, which was rammed with people. Had a nice meal, which I could not finish. Chatting about how in two weeks time, this will be the day before our marriage.

The season changed today. From the balmy last few days, the temperature has dropped, and it is feeling properly autumnal. I love this time of year. Finally reached the end of the first draft of the book just after lunchtime sitting in Starbucks. Gave myself a pat on the back for about five seconds but too aware that there are pot holes to fill in and a damned hard edit required to celebrate yet. But proud of my effort if nothing else. Currently A Galaxy of Light-bulbs , stands at 61k in length. Finishing touches done in Starbucks today, and then sloped down to the sea to have a quick walkabout. Looking from the Clock Tower looking down West Street, the clouds appeared to stripe the sea. The sea is always up to something. Did my 10,000 steps, though this cold is making me a bit wary of the gym. Came home and shuffled though the folder of old poems typing in scraps and second rate rubbish. As an exercise in focusing on all that is bad about my writing, this was a really good one.