under another sun

Up at the crack of dawn and off to town. Managed to read another book of  Paradise Lost  on the train too. Magnificent stuff. Train was delayed, bus broke down etc. so arrived late having walked through Bloomsbury, whose squares looked absolutely stunning, in their early Autumn glory. Not worked in Tavistock Square for a year. But felt comfortable returning and was teamed up with an talented and easy-going Brazilian art director called Fernanda on an interesting job. Home late. Emailing Jane and Richard, Jane had one of those alarms in the night, and wrote about it hilariously here.  And early to bed.

Up and working this morning on various stuff from last week that I needed to finish, billing, admin and so on. Lorraine working on her stuff too until she went shopping with Beth for her Cairo trip as an Ugly Sister. Betty also found out that she had got the job as an elf in Brighton for Christmas, about which she was delighted.  We finished at 3.00 and then off to The Shakey's Head where we met John, Anton and Matt for a Sunday lunch. And surprisingly delicious roast it was too. Lots of chatting, and good to see Matt. All having very restrained drinks, as I was still feeling very drained and worn out, and everyone else was too. Home to watch some TV and relax, and a very early night's sleep.

Very tired today. Calliope thoughtfully woke me up at six. We drove off to Haywards Heath to Lorriane's pal Jo's house which she is about to rent to us for the hopefully short period in between moving out of The Old Church Hall and moving into our new home. A nice enough little place, in a leafy little ex council estate. We are calling it our cats and skeletons move, i.e. just taking the cats and skeleton belongings. Home via Trading Boundaries, to see an exhibition of Roger Dean 's work. Dean was a hero in my teenage years, not just because of the fact he did the Yes album covers, but also his book Views made me think about design and architecture in a whole new way. But the exhibition was slapdash, and did the work no justice, like some kind of disorganised Brighton Open house. Good to see some of the prints, and so on however. But disappointing overall. As we drove off saw Dean himself from a distance hugging people. He'll always be a hero to me. Home and both L

Up early and stole downstairs for a cup of tea and some toast this morning, and stole out into the morning air and sloped off  into London. The Phantom Railing clanked as I walked past them on the way into the office again. I love this piece of public art. Finished one of the strangest weeks of work I think I have ever had, and walked free, or freeish having some more to do at the weekend before I can put this strange job to bed. Nevertheless , clanging imaginary joyful railings. I had arranged to meet Betty on the train, but she just missed it. I drank the can of beer I had bought for me, and the one I had bought for Betty and texted her to tell her. Lorraine was at the station to collect us, and we went to the new station bar to wait for Betty and then John. Lorraine and I slipped out for a curry in a different restaurant. Not as good as our usual which was too busy tonight. Just great to be home with my lovely wife after a long week.

Dragged my sorry behind off to London, dazed but fairly cheery after last night. Day four at the blowhard convention, and a punishing afternoon session where I had to slip out to the gents, lock myself into a cubicle and give vent to a near silent bout of Tourette's for a minute before I felt I could return. Up to to stay with Mum and Mase again in the evening. Walked to the Weatherspoons pub in Stanmore where they had secured a booth. For it was the popular curry night, and decent pints of lager were also to be had for a couple of quid. It seemed rude not to drink some of these as we spent the evening chatting. Mum also falling into a beauty conversation with ladies in powder room. Back to Edgware feeling very full and very tired. I took myself rapidly to bed.

Up to the smoke again. Saw a complete arch of a rainbow forming a magical gateway into London as the train approached from the south. I took this as a lucky omen. Joined the interminable meeting at 8:30. Most odd way to spend a week, as a fly on the wall with a vague remit, but having to take copious notes.  By agreement, I slipped off early and headed for Victoria. By chance the travel Gods were at their most benign (apart from leaving my old anorak on the train) and I got home, met Lorraine, changed and we jumped into a taxi to the Cameron Gallery in Hove. Here met Robin and Nick. A lovely venue. When I arrived at the venue, I opened my specs case to find it empty necessitating the borrowing of Nick's glasses which happily were okay. The couple who owned it were pleasant and helpful - and the art there was great too. We set up, and people drifted in, enjoyed twice as much bubbly as the Lewes crowd. Catherine Pope came, Anton, Rosie, and John coming to his first poetry reading

Almost chilly as I crept out of Mum and Mason's house having snacked on toast and a banana. To Stanmore and into town. Walking down from Euston Square station passed some Phantom Railings, an interactive sound sculpture that uses the movements of pedestrians to evoke a phantom of a lost iron face, a sound like someone running a stick of wood along a fence. A day that was baffling and boring by turns. Seems I have only to write one thing, and to treat the week as a kind of briefing.  I sit there and take notes feeling a bit like a pork chop in a synagog. Home to supper, and a hug from my lovely wife, and some miaows from Calliope. To bed, and then a call from Toby, he and Romy now back from Japan. Below, a delightful Brighton based Charleston video. Yay. Brighton looks lovely.

Up early and off to London. I was late but I managed to bundle into the meeting I am supposed to attend all week. Room full of corporate blowhards from the US who barely spoke to me when they realised I was only a writer. I was trying to sift some nuggets and, glanced wistfully out of the window at the sunlight falling on London planes. After a long day's work off to see Mum and Mas. Unable to force myself down into the purgatorial crowds of the northern line, instead I made my way to Baker Street and was picked up by mum in her little red car at Stanmore. Spent a pleasant evening up in Edgware with Mum and Mas eating roast chicken and steamed vegetables, and drinking wine. Mas had experienced a trying day, with banker problems. Felix the cat limping about and because he does not have many teeth, had a strange expression, which they say is like Clint Eastwood, but I think it's a bit or an Elvis lip. I had to make off to bed pretty early, however, as it had been a tiring day

Hopefully a day of recovery as Lorraine still not feeling well. Beth and John home today, and Lorraine did sewing and cooked a delicious roast with a cheesy leek and breadcrumb dish, roast potatoes and so on, which we forked down happily for Sunday lunch. I worked most of the day on various bits and pieces, including starting on my accounts.  Betty back up to London, and I bought a ticket for next week at the station. Feeling under energised, and the foreboding sense of having a tiring week ahead.

A low key day, Lorraine not feeling very well, and I still had a sore throat. Calliope this morning again trying to catch shadow birds. Lorraine went into town with Beth to sort out phones, and do some shopping.  I did some work up at my desk. Later in the afternoon, Lorraine and I walked up to Osborne Road to be shown around the new house. Betty met us there for a look round too. Lorraine and I very excited by seeing it again, and Betty liked it too. Felt really cheery that the house was better than I remembered it. Then we popped into the Preston Park Tavern, which is the one of our new local pubs, and had a swift drink sitting outside, before sauntering home. A quiet night indoors half watching the guilty pleasure of the X Factor and eating the tasty spaghetti bolognese that Betty had cooked for us.  Calliope at it again.

The news full of Scotland's vote to stay part of the United Kingdom. It seems to have been a head over heart decision by the Scots. Feel rather sorry for the dismal yes voters, their romanticised vision of an independent Scotland narrowly voted down.   For me, a papal audience with Catherine Pope in the Bath Arms, talking about publishing, politics and plumbers (she has an excellent one called Evita apparently). A bite to eat and a couple of pints. I always enjoy my lunches with Catherine. Sadly had to hurry home, however for an afternoon briefing from the French Bloke and Pat on a job in London starting early on Monday. Ended the afternoon  with Beth and her pal Laura up in the mezzanine playing music as Betty was printing out scripts and so on for her class tomorrow, as well as her panto part to highlight her lines and stage directions, before the girls making off. Lorraine home  and we went to talk to two of our neighbours to discuss some tiresome legal stuff and sip some wi

Pleased with the aftermath of yesterday's reading. Cheery emails with Robin and some nice feedback from folks, and texts from Mark. I need a more restrained day, with only one solicitor's letter to send and no agency work to do. Read another book of Paradise Lost in a cafe, and did some light bits of work. Beth cheery today as she has got a part as Fannie an ugly sister in a panto in Cairo. She will be put up in a five star hotel too, which should be great fun. Was phoned by Tracey for a pleasant and commiserating conversation - she is a nice woman especially when you bear in mind she is an estate agent.  Lorraine and I walking to get a sneak peek at our new house and check out the neighbourhood again. It is within five minutes walk of two good boozers, as well as a little parade of shops just around the corner, with a nice very middle class butcher and grocer, a general store, chemist, off-licence, vet, a fish and chip shop, a nasty looking pizza takeaway (the new Ace?)

Seeking tranquility today and to get myself in the right frame of mind for The Nightwork pamphlet launch this evening. After running through what I had intended to read, I felt the Kenny pipes rasping somewhat as my throat has been sore for a few days. I drank loads of water, however, and this seemed to do the trick and it was much improved by the evening, and Beth suggested emergency remedies of steam baths etc. if it got serious. Like the literary Titan I am, I spent my afternoon waiting for a small roofer, who arrived late and sporting many tattoos of boxers and a humorous hinge in the crease of his arm. Making a meal of the work, he clambered about on the roof and hammered at the lead flashing and did other apparently helpful things 'for nothing'. These he described in tiresome detail. He relieved me of a decent chunk of cash, but did not receive the tip he also requested. Worse, he garbled and looked at his son when he was talking to me so I could only undersand part of

Offer accepted on the new property, at a price we are very happy with. The location is not too far from the house we were about to buy, and its denizens want to move fast. Also it is number 11, the same as my wee house in the Twitten. Clearly a good omen. Then with some relief I phoned the long-suffering agents of the spirit-channeling woman who is no nearer to making a decision than she was three months ago to tell them we were out of the deal. I almost feel sorry for her, despite the stress she has put us through. But I should have listened to my instincts, which were telling me right away that this house was not going to work out. In contrast, I have a gut feel that the new house will proceed, and that Lorraine and I will be happy there.One thing is sure, we have visited dozens of Brighton properties over the last few months - so we know exactly what is available and how much it should cost. Meanwhile doing agency work to 'jazz up' (their phrase) some eyewateringly dull

Strapped on my hard nose and fell to bargaining over the house we liked at the weekend, and although we are waiting for confirmation tomorrow, we are optimistic about a good result. Between this kind of thing, I did small amounts of preparing for my pamphlet launch in Lewes on Wednesday. And chatted a bit to Betty and John. Beth still at home and poorly. I also took a brief for a pesky bit of work, and also saw another house this evening just in case. Feeling decisive and positive today. Off in the evening, having been driven by the lovely Lorraine, whose day included having to cover for a colleague whose husband unfortunately died today, to sit in a room in the 3 Jolly Brewers for a Brighton Poetry Stanza meeting. A good-humoured evening, with some excellent work. Nice to see Andie looking very healthy after her op, and Robin and Antony. I read a new poem which people I think liked but had little to say about in terms of improvements. Straight home after, feeling tired but in good c

Up and went off to buy some breakfast stuff, and Lorraine, Beth John and myself lurked about this morning eating breakfast. Beth poorly with something, I am selfishly hoping not to catch in time for my pamphlet launch this week. Went for a walk and talk with Lorraine this afternoon, and peered at a promising house that is coming on the market next week, and discussed many things. Trying to lift our heads out of the House Move Hell and get some perspective, and think of others. Hoping that Toby and Romy are coping, having to sort out everything after Hiroko's funeral, which was attended by 600 people. Popped in to see Janet and Ken as we were passing too. Hus was there, hugely relieved that his daughter is back in Italy after being over here and going missing several times for days in a row into the wonders of Brighton. Apparently while missing, she was featured on local TV, facebook, radio and so on news - and apparently has no concept of the hell she put Hus and Janet and Ken

All about property again today. Lorraine and I up early scouring the house clean, as we have not had the benefits of Sonya for a few weeks, before our meeting with the nice folks who are buying our house, and then drove around Brighton to view five other houses, and discuss houses at great length. One house was promising, and had excellent views. Much needed snooze at the end of the day before heading out for what the Gods of Randomness had decreed would be my third curry in a row. (Now officially OFF curry for a while). To the Shahi, with Lorrine and Betty, and John and his family: Krys his mum, Jo his sister, and Joey her boyfriend plus Martin, John's uncle. A pleasant evening, and everyone except Martin returned to our place afterwards for chats. Beth feeling ill and disconcertingly quiet. For Lorraine and I the evening was notable in that was Dr Rahmen's last night at The Shahi, and he will now will be based in Birmingham with his family, starting his career on the acad

Our bid on the messy house was unsuccessful, someone had bid the same amount as us, but was able to move more swiftly. Lorraine and I press on remorselessly, however, into the next ring of House Move Hell. I might suggest it to Amanda as a new board game, so, mad-eyed, I can slam meeples around the board in endless circles. Otherwise admin and waiting for many hours for a bit more German work to turn up, and sending and receiving emails to Robin plotting next Wednesday's poetry beano/pamphlet launch in Lewes. Turns out that famous and successful poets, who I met a couple of times in a very former life, John Agard and Grace Nichols are having an event in Lewes at the same time as us. The two parties are apparently to meet up in the Lewes Arms afterwards, so I can keep my achievements in proper perspective. Beth home in the afternoon,  sitting on Lorraine's desk and printing off comedy skits for her class tomorrow. After I had phoned lots more estate agents I dragged the body

Working at home for the Germans this morning, then sending off our Best & Final Offer for the property that needs loads of work. Also marvelling at information from Jane, who thinks the strange flower in yesterday's post is a Jersey lily. Having never been there, I can't say. Facetimed Mum intensively about property stuff. Lorraine working at home in the morning which was nice. A meh afternoon, after she'd gone, not achieving much other than a bit of admin and inventing ways to harm roofers who never turn up to do the work. The evening, however, great fun. I went to Lewes to meet Mark Hartley, now officially my oldest friend, having known him since we were 11. Loads to catch up on, such as Mark taking up dancing the tango, and a fair amount of beer to be drunk. Started in the admirable Lewes Arms, via an curry house to The Gardener's Arms, which has the air of a boozer's boozer and appears unchanged for decades, and here we indulged in nostalgia for our sc

Up early with Lorraine, who had to drive off early to work. As it was such a lovely morning, I broke with routine, and took myself for a breakfast cup of coffee in a nearby cafe, and a read of another book of the amazing  Paradise Lost . Then I took a stroll around the park too, fresh in the early autumn sunshine and was back home for 9:30am to start to phone Estate agents, and chase the roofing man who promised to come and never did. Then waited for a briefing from the Germans (which did not arrive till 5 pm) and so read more of Paradise Lost. In the afternoon I went to look at a property, and returned home through the park dodging the small but burly, shirtless traveller children running about three or four caravans that have settled in the park. Strange to see people suddenly living in the park, one young mum slinging a bowlful of washing up water onto the grass out of her caravan door. Amazingly clean caravans and cars. Spoke to Janet who had been in hospital all day having

The &*%$ we are attempting to buy from has now reversed her decision of yesterday, and won't move out -- so Plan B of finding another property is our only option, while our buyers want to move in a matter of weeks. This morning answering a list of solicitors questions, some of which revolve around a bull's-eye window in our property. I replied in shouty capitals after having made this point twice already that there are no effing bull's eye windows in the property. This done, a new and longer list arrived from the solicitors an hour later, asking many more idiotic questions. Lorraine and I having conversations with estate agents. This is house move hell. To put it mildly, the mindset I need to be in to do real work is almost impossible to achieve. Luckily there is a smidge of undemanding German work coming through. In the afternoon off to meet Mindy, who is in Brighton and we sat outside in the cafe in the Pavilion Gardens for an hour or so, before her partner David,

Stressed. Off to the doctor's first thing where I found in the waiting room a leaflet about erection problems I'd written about ten years ago prominently on display. Still standing, I thought as I scooped one up to keep as I am useless at retaining samples of this kind of work. Then the nurse syringed my ear, and talked to me a good deal when my head was full of bubbling surges. It needed two attempts and then, miraculously, for the first time in three weeks I could hear again, in stereo too. Everything seemed very loud. After a couple of hours of various types of house and neighbour nonsense, I scooted up to London to Gee Street quite near the Barbican, arrived a little early and marvelled at St Luke's a church now used by the LSO and co-built by Hawksmoor, which has the strangest tower I have ever seen on a church. Then a meeting with the nice Melody Dawes to discuss my book proposal. She explained that the publishing model had changed recently and her company were

A thirsty night of wine and cheese-fuelled dreams: huge-jawed dogs biting each other's heads. Up for a breakfast of buttered toast and jam, and Lorraine fashioning a sheet into an Ancient Greek costume with a few safety pins and one of Anne's old gold coloured belts for Klaudia and then teaching her and Anton how to reassemble it at home. Oskar pleading unsuccessfully with me to dangle him upside down again, which my boozers' fragility ruled out. Fond farewells to Anne, who it had been lovely to see, then Anton drove us all back to Brighton, through a strange day with the sun filtered whitely through the mist. I sat on the back seat with the bairns and they comically clung onto me when it was time to get out of the car. A surprisingly difficult and undignified struggle. The remainder of the day spent quietly, nursing a thumping headache and reading the Kinglsey Amis letters written in his twenties to Philip Larkin. A mixture of rage, anxiety, soft porn and notes about J

Up early to get ready for the man to come and fix our roof as I organised on Tuesday. A porridge breakfast with my lovely wife, which Beth declined. Lorraine went out to get money to pay the man, who simply didn't materialise.  When I phoned him about it, he said he had forgotten. I intend to take a roofless approach with him next week. Then up to London today to 'Free Verse' The Poetry Book Fair at the Conway Hall in Red Lion Square. There was a noisy protest in the square, not of poet-haters as you might imagine but by people concerned about the NHS.  I met Robin in the hall and we had a good couple of hours, chatting to lots of small press poetry folks - a challenge with one functioning ear in the noisy hall. A genuinely inspiring range of publications on show. Being with Robin made the schmoozing much better, although flagging we slipped away to a nearby boozer for a quick drink and a chat after a while. But there was lots of food for thought at the event, and I feel

Breaking off this morning twice to look at other empty properties that need work. Increasingly warming to this idea. Work mentioned by the agency did not materialise, so went to the gym again but felt leaden.  Ended this stressful week by doing a small amount of work for the German clients. In the evening Lorraine and I had a takeaway and watched a couple of excellent episodes of  The Wire . I am reading the collected letters of Kingsley Amis. They make me laugh, although I disapprove of myself as I do so. Betty arrived home late just before bedtime, tired but cheery.

Long and good chat with Mum this morning, and again later in the afternoon after we got Toby's message that he and Romy were flying off to Japan. It's at times like this that there are disadvantages in having a far-flung family. Later I went round to Janet and Ken as I hadn't been able to reach them by phone. Just as the stress was lifting after the turbulent granddaughter had been returned to Italy, Janet has discovered a lump in her breast and is going into hospital to have it checked out next week. Ken looking brighter than he has for some time however. Home to get some of the drips of agency work done that have come through in the last week done. Also had a long chat with Bob. Good to hear from him, and Carl, Bob and I are planning to meet up next month in London. Later in the afternoon Lorraine and I looked at another house, and Lorraine booked up a couple more for us to look at tomorrow too. Starting again, we are adopting a new strategy, looking at houses t

This morning it has become clear that the woman we are buying the house from has done nothing since she accepted our offer to move out. She is evading the issue as are her solicitors.  I spent the morning terrifying the estate agents, but it seems we have no option but to start looking afresh. Glancing at Facebook on my return from the gym I learned that my friend Sarah Sprinkles had died. She had been fighting cancer for several years now, but she was incredibly brave, humorous and inspiring to others during this period. I've never met anyone like her - and although I knew she was ill I hadn't realised how critical this had become.  Then shortly after this Toby contacted me with the sad news that Hiroko had died suddenly last night at home in Japan. I am upset about this, as Hiroko has been unfailingly kind to me, and she is such a characterful person, often crackling with humour. I have had many good times in her company, and one particular night singing and drinking

Working again today from home, but found time to creak off to the gym in the afternoon. Up early and worked on a poem I wrote in Greece and I think it may be a cracker. Anton and Bob's birthday today. Unable to contact the Old Mad Dog, but luckily well able to celebrate Anton's birthday which had a sensitivity-provoking zero in it. I spoke also to Carl and Ellie, whose birthday it is on Thursday.   In the evening, off to the Shakespeare's Head where we met Anton, Klaudia and Oskar, and Dawn and Rosie. A very cheery evening, with sausage and mash and the kids behaving in an exemplary fashion, and quizzing Dawn about Annie the ghost in her new house. I am not sure if Dawn is entirely comfortable with the idea of Annie, but she was quizzed gamely anyway. Good to see Rosie back from Greece looking relaxed and happy. Anton liked his presents, and Dawn organised some brownies with candles and the pub sang Happy Birthday and he generally came away feeling less a'feared o&#

Working from home on a full day's freelance. Lorraine also able to work from home today too, which was nice. Neither of us particularly enthused by the prospect of work, but all well. After work went off to my doctor to show him my blocked ear, and arrange for it to be syringed. My life is full of such glamour. Had to wait a long time for the privilege in the waiting room, and found myself unable to press on with Paradise Lost, but instead resorted to Tetris. Back home briefly to eat the world's tastiest chicken, ham, leek and tarragon pie, fashioned by my lovely wife, before heading back out with Beth, John and Lorraine to see Lucy , starring the highly-watchable Scarlet Johansson who we'd last seen in the excellent Under the skin . Lucy was a bit of a SF romp and not so memorable, but it was nevertheless entertaining in a blood spattering way, with a few nicely weird moments, and short too. Lorraine and I quite enjoyed it, but it was everything Beth hated. From there