under another sun

A misty morning so I played  Misty Morning   by Bob Marley on my phone as Lorraine and I were getting up. Lyrics seemed very apposite. A healthy porridge breakfast and then off to a garden centre to buy a large pot to plant the magnolia tree Anton bought for us. We mixed bought compost with that from our very own composter. Good to have created chocolatey coloured compost from all those peelings and clippings. Oddly good to get my hands muddy. The ground despite us being chalky here and on the side of a hill quite waterlogged. The plants confused due to El Niño and global warming. A large fox poo outside the house, caused by wanton vulpine carelessness. A quiet afternoon. Lorraine cooked the most amazing chicken pie tonight. Pie perfection. My wife has many talents. Pies are just one. Speaking to Janet, Mum and Toby this afternoon. Toby in Ottowa airport. Felling well rid of January. Looking to get a grip, starting tomorrow.

A happy day. Re-hanging pictures in the main room. L & I using calculations and precise measurements. Time to take in the carpet, which we are both well pleased with in terms of colour. It also makes the room noticeably warmer and larger seeming. A few other bits and pieces done, a much needed low-key day. In the evening Dawn came around and we sauntered down to the Joker to meet Anton. Feeling suddenly stressed and horrid when I got there, but a chat with Anton and a glass of beer soon rectified all this. Great to see Anton and Dawn although the Joker a bit elbowy and busy it being January payday Friday. Although Dawn assertively got a free round of drinks while we were waiting and also got the DJ to turn down the music. Takes some skill to be able to select only mediocre soul music from the 70s. After we had sufficiently burny mouths (Anton and I had Woof Woof Wings), back to the Preston Park Tavern for an final drink before going home.

Work less intense, and I found myself with enough time to go for a stroll around the park and into the walled garden, trying to get my head together. Draining week, and I'm just living for the weekends at the moment.  Beth and I also secured the booking for the Box theatre in the Warren. Celebrated with a twenty minute doze on the sofa went out with Lorraine, back from a two day conference for headteachers (talking heads apparently). I had missed her. Pushed off to the Preston Park Tavern and sat looking at the map of Belgium and talking to Lorraine and drinking a couple of pints of Doom Bar beer and then feeling the assorted unpleasantnesses of the week abating. I am warming to my local. Lorraine talking about the conference. Apparently the heads had a boogie on Thursday night, which sounds fun.  Beth joined us and we all had a bite to eat. A beef burger for me, and the second one in a about four or five years. It was delicious. Home feeling decompressed and cheerful.

Pressing on, rewriting brochures, tweaking a script, talking to Dave about scamps etc. Marginally more optimistic, with no crisis and able to glimpse the end of the week. As Lorraine was at a headteacher's conference & Beth was out I scored myself some fish and chips, then went for a walk down to the sea and along the seafront under the iSore and along a bit. Good to breath some air after having been manacled to my desk for the last few days. Dark and blowy, but not very cold. Listening to the mildly-diverting debaucheries of Keith Richards as I walked. Will go with Mum to Diane's funeral in a fortnight, I'd like to pay my respects and good to be with Mum there too. Facebooked by Nicki Rose, or Ricki Nose as Reuben, First Matie and I called her quite often, who'd found a farewell poem I'd written her a frightening 21 years ago. It was based on Lake Isle of Innisfree by Yeats for some reason. Nicki was leaving IBM to work for Walt Disney: "You will arise

Lorraine up at six as usual. I blearily looked at my phone after a bit and saw a message from Toby saying that Diane had died. She had been ill for a long time. Got up and did some work to send off early, then called Mum. She is naturally sad, but pleased that her suffering is over. Mum saying how cancer had got her three oldest friends, Maureen, Betty Tostevin and now Diane. I've known Diane all my life, and as Mum's and Di had known each other since they were 15, always seems to have been one of the characters in my life. She was a spirited woman and funny to the point of trying her hand at stand up. She once invited me (something of a privilege) to a gig called Pear Shaped in Fitzrovia - she was pretty good, and her writing was strong. Six or seven years ago she had a study which overlooked the South Thames construction site in London. Having just attended a course by the poet John Hegley, Diane told me that one day she decided to pen a poem about the driver of the crane

A stress festival. Up early with Lorraine having to drag the six foot square bookcase outside, so the carpet could be laid. Then to work, as there is loads of screamingly urgent work to be done. The carpet people came around, both very pleasant, but lots of noise inevitably, and questions asked and so on. Any progress on my own work was hard-won. The carpet looks great once down, however. Just as they were leaving, a passing neighbour asked if they could have the bookcase, which we have been trying to get rid of. Brilliant. Half killed myself getting it up the road with neighbours and Betty but a result. Beth and I then stepped back into the house to admire the carpet, when Beth noticed a sound like a shower. Actually it was a flood and water was streaming down from Lorraine and my top floor bedroom and dripping off the live lightbulbs. Action stations, and thank goodness Beth was there, who called the emergency plumber while I turned the electricity off and having called Lorraine

Up in the dark under the light of a full moon. Lorraine up early, and off. Me up early and off to London. Not before having an explosively upset stomach, so bad I wondered if I should stay at home. But I went anyway, nervous that I was going to soil myself on the crowded train. Especially when it was being delayed for an extra half an hour crawling towards Clapham. Arrived at the agency where I was greeted very warmly, with Suzie, Jo and Yas all leaping up to kiss me, and Matt and Steve giving me a friendly shakes of the hand. Working with Dave briefly trying to salvage something from the time we had. Then to the Charity to receive ten pages of feedback on a clutch of material I'd written for them. Feedback included the fact they don't like the world 'For', and my word choice in one case was a bit wussy, in another place it was patronising, there it was old-fashioned and in two places cheesy. The cheesy phrase was particularly singled out for praise by another part o

A day of dragging things about the house, down to the dungeon or up to the spare room in preparation for carpet laying next week. And lots of discussion about furniture too. Lorraine working, and me attempting to catch up with some of the backlog of my own work. Feeling a bit frustrated that everything is on hold at the moment. But managed to at least enter a poetry competition. Waiting for the pair of numpties who contacted us about collecting the shelves to collect them. They didn't, and accused us of being shitty when we asked them why they hadn't turned up. Nice chats with Mum, and with Toby too who was at Deviation Road. Managed to say hi and have brief chats with Joan and Dick and Romy too, and glimpse out of the windows at a snowy Deviation Road. They need to get Star Trek beaming sorted. Would have been fabulous to beam over for a chat. Listening in snatches to the audiobook of  A Life by Keith Richards (and ghostwritten by James Fox) which is interesting. And wha

Saturday and a good deal more cheery. Lovely day spent with Lorraine, even though it was spent doing things like taking stuff to the tip, and beginning to sort out the front room in readiness for the carpet people now coming on Tuesday. In the afternoon walked across to Anton's house to give Klaudia her birthday present, which was a golden ticket. With Beth's help I hunted down a street dancing show at The Dome, which will be fun for both of us. Klaudia 12 today, which is a shaker. She had also been on the ghastly and terrifying ride at the end of the pier today, three times, with her pal Mia. Anna came round while we were there too, I'd not seen her for a while. She, Anton, Anne and the bairns off for a birthday feed. Lorraine and I went to the Shakespeare's Head for a quick glass or two of beer, before going to the Shahi. Really enjoyed sitting in there chatting. Felt like a bit of a date night, and I felt the Nazgûl wing lifting. We were all done and on our way h

Working very early to finish another bit of Chad work off. Still in all work and no play mode. Luckily managed to get done by noon. Was able to zoom into town to The Bath Arms to have a papal audience with Catherine Pope. A welcome cheery interlude and good to see her, in her Hogarthian Dr Martens. Had a restrained couple of drinks and some food and generally put the world to rights for a while. She is always full of things that make me laugh. Apparently Tanya calls her Spider Pope when she is in her gym going lycra, and she was dressed in this when her stalker (for she has an over-intense Student admirer) sprang out at her from behind some large bins as she was returning home from the gym. Apparently she screamed, not something one expects from a Spider Pope. Heard from Richard that Holly his little border terrier had died. I know he and Jane will be sad about that. I really enjoyed going for walks with Richard in the morning when I stayed with them with Rufus and Holly surging ab

Another day of copyslogging. I've never had the experience of writing so much based on a short lived experience (going to Chad) before. Every day I am in one way or another having to relive the the things I learned there. Making me think how ghastly post-traumatic stress disorder must be. For me Chad was benign, but I learned the other day that the area we visited will, this spring, be classified as subject to extreme hunger trending towards starvation. Having met some who this will fate will fall on, it is a very hard thing to think about. A much needed jolt of positive feedback on a couple of things I'd written today from the client via Matty. In a short lull between jobs I had another walk. It being such a bright and clear day that it seemed mad not to. Walked up my road to the top of the hill, then took a long circular route home again. It's good for mental clarity to be able to glimpse the downs and the distant sea reflecting the low sun. Beth at home today, record

Another slogging-all-day day. Managed to slope out for a 45 mins walk early afternoon, after a pleasant and efficient electrician called Kenny had come and brought dazzling light to one of our lightless bathrooms. Being manacled to the desk all day is far from good for you. As I was almost home again, Beth called me having returned to a Mary Celeste home. More work then I had a Facebook messenger chat with cousin Wendy in Denman Island in British Columbia, Canada. It feels really nice to be connected again after such a long time. Her facebook reveals her surrounded by beautiful nature and various animals from pet rats to ponies. We spent a summer together when Toby and I were kids in Guernsey. I was 11 and Wendy was 13 and we got on really well. I've never seen her since then, although we have been in touch once or twice. I have a golden eagle feather on my desk that Wendy once sent me. Lorraine home and after we'd eaten a pasta chicken bake, Lorraine and I went out for ano

A dusting of snow this morning. The ranks of white roofs, and the glimpses of the distant downs looking pretty from our bedroom. Beth had arranged for people to buy at a nominal price our 6ft by 6ft book case (as we are having shelves put in, instead). Two numpties turned up with a roofrack on a car and no money, and left with a promise to return. Not something I am looking foward to particularly. Sadly L and I both working Sunday. Lorraine going through piles of files downstairs. Me in my study writing various Chad related charity stuff, then managing to send out an actual poetry manuscript to a competition. A nice roast supper, and then a walk around the dark streets. Lorraine watched one of her favourite programmes Call the Midwife , a bit of footy then bed with the sense that the weekend had been all too brief. A glimpse out of the window, and some quickly departing snow dust.

Thank God for Saturday. Up eventually after putting the world to rights talking with Lorraine in bed over the breakfast I brought up. Eventually Lorraine off to get her hair cut (and as traditional returning with it looking longer). I had a precious hour in which to read. Some of which I gave to Claudia Rankine's Citizen. Interesting book which has won lots of awards for poetry, but -- whisper it -- the bulk of it is prose. Into town, where I met the sleek-haired Lorraine, we did a spot of shopping before drifting into a restaurant called The Sahara , where we joined Hus, Janet and Ken, Ray and Sonia and several of Hus's friends including Cesare, whom I sat opposite, to celebrate Hus's fiftieth birthday. Food nice, and interesting and pleasant people, mostly academics. One of them, Ben, was talking about the influence of Heidegger on architecture, which I found interesting having studied Heidegger in the past, and having briefly worked at the Architects' Journal . T

Working by 7:30 and a quick five hours work on freelance stuff, before I hared around cleaning the house and buying a few snacks. The AGM of Telltale poets was held today at Kenny Towers with Sarah Barnsley, Siegfried Baber, Catherine Smith, Robin and myself. The house not at its best with no carpet and so on, but never mind. Sonia zooming about and laughing conspiratorially with me before they came. AGM went on for several hours, with a full agenda and some highly-talkative people present. Catherine left, taking my specs with her, which we only found out later. Sieg had to zoom back to Bath, and Robin, Sarah and I went to the Preston Park Tavern for a cheeky drink. Just after Robin left Lorraine and Beth arrived, and we had supper when Sarah got the bus home. Very nice to be with Lorraine and Betty at the end of the week.  And relax.

Two days of all work and no play making Peter an exceedingly dull boy and feeling a bit Jack-Nicholson-in-the-Shining-ish. However I did get a message from my cousin Wendy on Denman Island, who I'd found on Facebook on Wednesday, which was cool.

A tap on the door at eight and I had forgotten that Cass had come around again to build a few wee shelves in my office, so had to work downstairs. Cass whistling Life on Mars by David Bowie. However off to Chiswick a bit later, quite enjoying a bit of a commute. Managed to pop into Waterstones and using the present of a Waterstones card I'd been given, I bought poetry books by Claudia Rankine, Sarah Howe and Don Patterson. Then into a room to work with Dave the art director on a welcome pack. On the train home I read Don Paterson's  40 Sonnets . Not much time to do anything other than work, or exist under the shadow of work. Interesting things like poems and books and all the other stuff I want to think about seem incredibly vivid and out of reach edge. Beth had cooked a healthy supper as I was late and Lorraine was doing her Pilates.  My new shelves are great. Enjoyed rearranging my study before bed, listening to Station to Station , one of the Bowie albums I liked most

Lorraine still enjoying work, though the six o'clock starts aren't so clever. Woke up twice, once when my phone peeped with news of David Bowie's death, and a second time blearily to find Lorraine had left me a cup of tea, like a tea fairy this morning before heading off to school. Still warm too.  I'm not one for mourning people who I never met too much, but I did feel sad at Bowie's passing or, to put it another way, grateful for his having been here in the first place. There are different Bowies, and while I quite liked his early incarnations I found it all a bit too pantomime to be truly taken to heart, unlike the frowny prog I liked at the time. However there were several of his albums I absolutely loved. Young Americans, Station to Station and most of all, Heroes . In later years I've come to like most of the earlier stuff too. And I had just started enjoying his Blackstar album too.  Otherwise I woke early and tried to write some poems or bits of a

Up late, after sitting in bed with Lorraine and working on a letter she needs to send out to parents. Then up and my lovely wife cooked a sunday roast chicken for lunch. Then I was collected by Robin and we drove up to the South Bank this afternoon to attend the TS Eliot awards shortlist reading at the South Bank - which is the biggest poetry reading on the year's calendar and features readings from the cream of the crop of last year's poetry publications. Robin's car on its last legs, and about to be replaced by one big enough to take Nick's keyboard, a heavy organ. The motorway blocked by an accident so it took us quite a while to get there. But we'd set out early, so there was plenty of time. A brilliant way to get a snapshot of what's happening in poetry. Most interesting of the eight finalists to me were Claudia Rankine and Sarah Howe. Claudia read a long poem about identity, saying something like we should consider ourselves architects of the personal

A relaxed, slow start to the day. Lots of talking that we hadn't had energy to do over the week.  Then an organisational day, doing things like drilling holes above the window in the front room so we could hang the curtains again, and then hanging curtains. I like doing things like this with Lorraine, as I have little confidence as a DIY person without her. A visit to the carpet shop nearby too, to discuss carpets. The colour of a carpet is a fiendishly difficult decision sometimes. Also went to get the car washed (by dour hooded men under the viaduct) and visit Miss Mole's Flower Emporium (the owner kissing Lorraine hello) where I bought a terrarium for Lorraine to have in her new office. If Lorraine had her life again I think she might work with Miss Mole in her flower emporium. It is a fragrant place. Then Lorraine cooked a gorgeous fish pie, and we watched a little TV before she conked out. I stayed up and watched some episodes of Nathan Barley a cult comedy of which only

An unremarkable day doing bits of work for the agency and chatting to a few folks on the phone. Sonia arrived and shared some theories about Incas, which made me laugh. Much more cheerful as the day progressed. A short walk too. Listening to David Bowie's Backstar which is his new album. Rather good in parts. Happy to have reached the end of the week. Lorraine really happy to be home, and to have successfully negotiated her first week as a headteacher. Below a quick walk this afternoon but soon had to return home.

Lorraine up and off again. Me sipping the tea Lorraine brought me before springing up and working on a few agency bits this morning, and standing in the kitchen practising some poems, in a last minute attempt to get myself ready for this evening. Managed to leave home late, then the train I caught up to London was delayed, however I made it to the Poetry Cafe just in time, but feeling stressed. Siegfried Baber had come up from Bath, he's becoming a more relaxed rand confident reader. Also Kitty Coles, who I'd not met before but whose poetry I liked, dealing with mythology and quite psychological. Our main reader was Jack Underwood, who is a Faber poet, and therefore accomplished and original. I followed that, but it was a day when I was niggled by doubts about my own work and had the sense that by the time it came to me I was a bit of an unappetising pudding, and I felt I read to stony faces. Robin said I held my own. A quick drink in the pub afterwards with Robin and another

Lorraine springing off as today was her first day with a full school. I spent much of the day writing more Chad stuff in concentrated way while Cass downstairs cheerily painting our front room. Beth lurking in her room. My office cluttered with bits from around the house. Hosing rain for much of the day. Between rain I went to the carpet shop around the corner to pick up some samples and have a long chat with the carpet lady who was friendly and had theories about how men and women see colours differently. Also bought flowers for Lorraine, which she did not clap eyes on till almost ten o'clock. Lorraine tarrying at school until she went to pilates. Beth and I sloped off to the Preston Park Tavern, where Lorraine joined us for supper and a good debriefing on what sounded like a successful first day. Lorraine animated and cheery - although with a sense that there is much to be done. Home and early to bed.

Lorraine springing out of bed at six in the morning, and off to work fairly pronto. This is effectively the first day of her job, but the teachers and children don't arrive till tomorrow and she spent it sorting out her office. I sprang up too, slightly more gingerly due to the back gyp, and was at my desk early too. Chad stuff today, though needing to work on gusto levels which were lowish. Cass arrived at 8 o'clock to decorate the front room, filling the larger craters in the plaster and so on to tuneless whistling and singing to the radio, which I found oddly comforting. A really hard working, friendly guy doing honest work as I skulked in the Kenny nerve centre. At lunch a brisk walk down to Miss Mole's Flower Emporium (Lorraine's favourite shop) to buy her a present. It doesn't open till tomorrow. Later Lorraine and I decided to go at the weekend, where I shall buy her a larger present. When she got home and we cooked a curry with chicken and cauliflower an

A terrible night's sleep, and Lorraine having a badly upset stomach in the night. The day spent with Lorraine, John and I getting the front room ready for Cass who is coming to paint the walls. Shudder-inducing to put things in boxes, as if we were moving house again. Managed too to tweak my back abominably too. For it is a PK tradition to have some kind of a spinal gripe in January. Lorraine and I decided to buy some furniture today too, a table and chairs and a small sideboard. We are going to have our front room looking spiffy soon. Quick Facetime chats with Mum and Mas, who I interrupted watching Montealbano on the iPad, and with the Tobster for he and Romy now back from Japan, and have thankfully not experienced the kind of turbulence that afflicted an Air Canada flight from China. Girding his loins for the great return to work. Can't say I am suffused with enthusiasm right now, but it will come. Lorraine, in contrast, getting stuff sorted for her first day at the new

Off shopping with Lorraine today, who had a long list of things to buy for her new job and returned with none of them. I, in contrast, although unable to find a pad with yellow lined paper, managed to buy a new jumper and jacket for I am toying with the idea of making this year the year of the Peacock, in which I compensate for the scorns of time by strutting about in a gaudy new plumage. Home, and then Lorraine and I went off with Beth down to The Shahi where we met John, who we'd not seen since before Christmas and strapped on the nosebags, and were given a bottle of wine for New Year. Drawing to a close the official season of gormandising. Now for a season of self-restraint and health, if only so I can fit into my new jacket with more elan. John got me a Cinematic Orchestra album called the Man with the movie camera , which I enjoyed a great deal when he played it me recently.

Traditional start the new year, a run-over somewhat maimed feeling, having drunk a fair amount at Anton's house last night. Got up carefully, fed the cats and returned with a cup of tea for my lovely wife, who being far more sensible than me was in fine form. After weighing myself I forged an iron resolution not to overeat for, due to some species of medical anomaly, I appear to weigh more than two entire kilos more than I did this time yesterday. The day's plan involved picking up Rosie, zooming to Dawn's house for brunch, then galloping about on the Downs. We retrieved a hungover Rosie and Lorraine drove us to Steyning, where the normally bubbly Dawn confessed had consumed two Tuacas and some Prosecco the night before, which for Dawn is a skinful, and so was a tad jaded too, so instead we sat about in Dawn's cottage talking for hours. Dawn administered Berroca, delicious quiche and salad, coffee and prune and banana muffins and delicious squares of chocolate tiffin