Letting the salmon out of the bag

A night of weirdly terrible dreams. In the morning listened to Jane chatting on JKT's BBC Guernsey show reading poems and being interviewed about being a poet and a Camila lookalike. Some lovely stuff, and as a lover of puns, I particularly enjoyed her puntastic poem about a vegetarian Christmas. Hear Jane here, at 2 hours 52 minutes.

Beginning to feel distinctly Christmassy now. The humongous food shop today in Sainsbury's, which luckily enough was remarkably uncrowded. This all went well, apart from the bit where I found myself struggling with a large Scottish salmon, which began to slip out of its long bag at me as I was handling it at the till. Drove home and unpacked the sacks of provender, the house now groaning with foods of all kinds and an embarrassment of boozes. 

Off in the afternoon to drop in on Janet and Ken, to swap presents and invite them around to strap on a Christmas Day nosebag with us. Ken looking very well, and we had cups of dragonfly tea and biscuits and a good chat.

Then home, both feeling tired tonight and enjoying a night at home, me watching Lorraine wrapping presents with tireless efficiency. Beth arrived late in the evening too.

After trying to get hold of Mum during the day, we spoke this evening.  Mason is back in hospital, having gone for some check-ups in the morning, the doctor thought he needed to go back in, as he was finding breathing difficult. He is back at Barnet Hospital. A tiring day for Mum, who had to twice go to Barnet hospital  to bring Mason his CPAP machine. Felt a bit concerned that Mas was back in hospital, but Mum said his breathing had been difficult.

Contacted by E.Ratio with a proof of my postmodern poem, set to go live on 1st Jan. Quite nice to get a publication on the very first day of the year.