under another sun

Foot somewhat better, and the weird exhaustion that comes with my flare-up on the way out. Spent a very productive day working at my desk. I managed to get lots done. Amusing discussions with Sonia about property. She showed me photos of a nice property in Bulgaria which she and her husband are doing up. She's told me about the good times under communism some time ago. Makes me laugh about what a capitalist she is now. John came around this evening, and I got a Shahi curry delivered. Nice to see him and we played some cards. There must have been a malformation in The Force, as Beth and I were badly defeated at Euchre for the first time ever by Lorraine and John. Beth and I less competitive so it's always a pleasure to beat people that care. Fun evening, although Lorraine and I pretty shattered, and sloped off to bed fairly early and soberly for a Friday night.

Now able to stand without yelping. Still feeling low on energy however, and attached myself to the gold sofa, and started transferring the thousands of changes I made in pencil, to Scrivener. Got half way through. After this is done, one more print off, for absolute bloody final changes, and then I am done with it. Then for the hard bit of trying to flog it, I believe in the quality of story The second kind of darkness . It took an age to get it into its current shape, and very different to how it started. My conundrum is how you can be any kind of an artist without having self doubt. It stops you from thinking that tripe is gold. But self-doubt has little to do with the selling process. I am going to be as resilient as I can be in my attempt to get this sold. Betty back home after many adventures today. Vagabond Skies went really well apparently, and the cast had a good party afterwards in London. Let's hope someone picks up on it. Beth cooked  courgetti -- which is courgette sp

Foot evil peaked this morning, and it was painful and slow to get about the house. By the afternoon things improving. A lack of energy and enforced immobility meant however that I sat on the gold sofa and worked a lot. After seven hours of this, I did more binge watching. Saw six episodes of Can't Cope, Won't Cope which I really enjoyed, being the tragicomic depiction of a young alcoholic woman in her twenties and her best friend, living in Dublin. The actor Seána Kerslake who plays the main character, Aisling, is one to watch I think. Otherwise pleased to see Lorraine at the end of the day. An early night. Read another story called Paper Pills , from Sherwood Anderson's  Winesburg, Ohio . Interesting.

Annoyingly, a painful foot in the night. The return of orc foot, after two and a half years of freedom. Not to bad a dose of gout, but enough to prevent me from travelling up to London, as I was in hobble mode and feeling unusually tired. Got up and spoke to Mum and Mas, and then simply went to sleep again. Not sure why this has cropped up again, possibly due to the fact I ate fish and sea creatures four days in a row. Disappointed to have to miss seeing Mum and Mas. Worked a bit on my novel MS, and then brain a bit mushy gave into a duvet afternoon and simply watched Netflix. Binge watched Dear White People , which was I thoroughly enjoyed. Obviously had a low key evening with Lorraine and went to bed with drugs.

Monday, and a pleasant day working on the manuscript. Found one or two sticky patches, where there oughtn't to be sticky patches, so had to rework those. More irritating correspondence from the theatre group in Edinburgh. They specialise in passive aggressively telling you to do things you've already done. Off to the gym, and did a bit of trundling on the cross trainer, my energy is low.  Walked home through the park and got on with my work again, interrupted occasionally by cats. A bit of a monkish routine, but it makes me happy. Lorraine home, and I served up the small curry I had cooked, and then we watered the garden and lurked about there for a bit, before coming inside to watch The Handmaid's Tale . An early night. Read a story from Winesburgh, Ohio  by Sherwood Anderson called Hands to Lorraine, which was rather sad. And so to bed.

Up and enjoying breakfast this morning. Lorraine, getting towards the end of the school year, had lots of work to get on with. Meanwhile, Beth and I jumped into a taxi and headed off to the Station where we bought some coffee. I took Beth's case as she didn't have enough hands to smoke a cigarette and drink her cup of coffee and pull her case along. To the Boots, where we hung outside for a moment with Matt, and Kitty arrived full of her usual positivity and cheerfulness. Matt is an old friend of hers, and she teases him mercilessly. It was happy afternoon, with lots of laughter. Kitty remembers her part pretty much perfectly, as does Beth. So most of our effort is geared towards getting Matt up to speed. We are doing things differently, and it is making us see new things in the play, which is fun and keeps it fresh. Then Betty off to John's and then up to London to do the showcase early in the week for Vagabond Skies. I mooched home through the park, and arrived home aft

Obviously as it was Saturday, it was bit wet and blustery today. However we had a good time. Lorraine and I set off into town, I headed for Cafe Nero where I worked on a bit more of the manuscript, with the pencil of destiny. Lorraine had her nails done, by someone working with Beth. Then Lorraine and I did a spot of shopping, and then zoomed off to see Janet and Ken. Hus was there, having done some work on their house, and Rod and Clare arrived, Rod being one of Ken's sons. Ken looked pretty well, although he managed to lose a tooth during our conversation, despite this he was in good spirits. Janet on good form too. We left them and caught the bus back to the centre, where we popped into Riddle & Finns. They took my mobile number and called us when they had a table, an hour or so later. We'd popped into the Cricketers, and then after a bit more shopping into the Druid's Head. Town really busy, as the hordes usually on the beach had headed inland due to the incleme

So a rather storming day's work, if I say so myself. I am now working from printed pages, and feel like I'm at the proof reading stage, although I am making plenty of changes, cutting still further, and changing words, and stabilising the punctuation. But I feel that before my eyes, the thing is taking shape, and what is really exciting, is that it has taken a really good shape. I'm in danger of sounding optimistic here, but blimey. The hard work was worth it I think. Feeling cheery I set off for an afternoon walk through woods that surround the hilltop Hollingbury golfcourse near hear. There is an ancient hill fort on the top. I mooched about through the undergrowth and under trees, and so on. Crossing the golf course. I was determined to find myself to the hill fort. I can get quite panicky feelings of agoraphobia on top of big bald hills. So I had to fight the fear to make the top. A strangely atmospheric place, with patches of tall gorse. I found in the middle, a litt

A good day's work, plus a visit to the gym. Off in the evening to Eastbourne to see Beth in her rehearsal of Vagabond Skies . This is a musical based on Vincent Van Gough's life. The writer has been working on it for 20 years. The music was pretty good and the performances were jolly good. Beth leaping about in the chorus, being everything from a nun to a prostitute, and an art critic. Beth's pal and agent Sarah Dormandy is directing. And Dylan was in the chorus too. Good to get a bear hug from him. They are taking this show up have a London theatre showcase, to see if they can find backers and so on. I'm not a huge fan of musicals, but one about Vincent's life seems a pretty good idea, as he is such an archetype of the tortured artist. I sincerely hope it does well. Then off to the Crown and Anchor for a cheeky pint with Betty, and chatting to Susie, and I spoke to Natalia Farran, who was more usually a jazz singer, but had been drafted in. She was full of compli

Phew what a scorcher! So hot today, that I decided to forgo the air-conditioning-free gym, or as yesterday an arduous walk. I simply stayed home and worked. They are saying this is the hottest June day since 1976 (33.2° in London apparently, a wee bit cooler on the coast here). I remember that summer well. I was doing my O Levels, I also had a job at Hammersmith Hospital which Gerald had got for me as he was working there in its immunology department, where I was subject to the advances of a male Chinese student who was also working there. Although we were working in the same building, Gerald refused to drive me to work, so I had to leave an hour and a half before him, walk to Kingsbury station, an hour or so on the tube, and another long walk up Du Cane road past the Prison. I was doing some admin type thing, filing I think. I also had a girlfriend that summer and did most of my socialising in The Bunch of Grapes on Duke Street, by the side of Selfridges on Oxford Street. I think it

Like last night, we slept with the Juliette windows open. But because of Brian's suicidal tendencies we have to close the bedroom door. This means the infernal Calliope scratches at the door like a poltergeist after five o'clock. Up early with Lorraine, and watering the hanging baskets at seven. The jasmine smelling lovely in the garden. Then working hard on The Second Kind of Darkness  despite the soporific heat. Also uploaded digital banner advertising for Edinburgh. A long walk late in the afternoon, still very hot.  Climbed up to the Hollingbury golf course high behind us, and looked at the downs sweltering in the heat, and Brighton below. Listening as I walked to my Tim Winton book of autobiographical essays, The Boy Behind the Curtain . Listening to one where he stayed in Ireland through the winter near what the locals thought of as a tremendously haunted castle. Quite a contrast having your head full of damp winter Ireland while in a heatwave. Home and I griddled so

Hot as anything today. Woke to news of a nutter driving into a crowd of people outside a mosque in London, shouting that he wanted to kill all muslims. It is rioting weather. Spoke to Mum sweltering up in London. I worked on The Second Kind of Darkness then in the late afternoon walked off to the gym and did a sweaty workout. Obviously the air conditioning works a little in the changing room, but nothing in the actual gym. I did a fair workout though, and walked home again on the shady side of the street. Received a picture of a man pointing at a stepladder today from Beth, the caption being, you're not my real ladder!  In the walked back to the Evening Star (Lorraine stuck in a late meeting) where I met Glen, Steve and Richard, and Glen's pleasant brother and his pleasant girlfriend. Had all manner of nice chats and drank cold beer. I was not going to drink this week, a firm resolution that was dead by the end of the day. Richard plotting some new political bet, an accu

Another slow start to the day. Up late and after brunch sauntered off in the sweltering heat with Beth down to The Boots, to rehearse A Glass of Nothing with Matt all afternoon. Beth working flat out at the moment, in a production of a new musical called Vagabond Skies.  Pleased with how our rehearsals went. Matt did a great job, and made lots of progress under Beth's direction. He has a lovely natural warmth, and made us laugh a few times too. A cold beer in their strange little beer garden afterwards. I felt pleased in that I could really see Matt in the role for the first time. Lorraine picked us up, and drove Betty to Hove where she was staying with John. Lorraine said what should we do, and I madly suggested that we go to Patcham where there is the Elizabethan Cottage Indian restaurant. We went there and had a pretty good meal in a very old building. Great to do something randomly like that. Felt like we were going on a date, which is always nice, although weird to go out fo

Hard to get out of bed this morning for some reason. The luxury of a Saturday with not too many got to dos. Off to Balcombe to nose about in some open gardens. An eccentrically posh mother and daughter combination in the first, where we paused to have a cup of tea, and I had a piece of apple cake. I looked at an orange flower, and the daughter surged over and said it was a Chilean Fire Bush. Her mother said she stole ideas from other gardens, and mentioned Highgrove. Behind their garden was a meadow, and this was bee loud and lovely. The second, well off the beaten track, was a crammed garden full of things, and near a cowshed where cows lowed. We bought some plants there, some which were like St Peter Port Daisies. We went scrumping ideas for gardens. And found a few especially in a secret garden, with a fairy in it. The Tobster's birthday today, sent him a birthday message. Then home, and pottering about in the garden. We had a game of scrabble in the heat of the back garde

Working from just after seven on the final two chapters of the novel, which is now called The second kind of darkness . Some of my favourite ideas have to be given the Herod treatment, but after all these years, the end of the story is literally is in sight.  After four or five hours with blood on my hands, an omelette for lunch (made with turmeric as standard now). Then I slunk off in the gorgeous weather to sweat in the gym, where I had a good workout, doing the cross trainer but adding in a bit of rowing machine and one or two weights machines. Doing this gingerly as I am unfit. But things are slowly improving. Thence to the ideologically unsound Starbucks where I drank tea and worked till gone five. Walked home and spoke to Bob about various hypochondriac subjects, and then to Mum, who showed me the new rose arch in the front garden when I got home.  When Lorraine got home, we no-brainered down to the Preston Park Tavern for some cold beer and a bite to eat and a cheery

Slept with the Juiliette windows open in our room, till we closed it first thing, but still heard an amazing dawn chorus at around four. Beginning to feel happier and more relaxed than I have for some time. Today I worked well on the novel. It has taken me some time to tune back into it, after a break, but I am there now. At lunchtime I took a walk in the sunshine for an hour. Listening to my new audiobook The Boy Behind the Curtain by Australian writer Tim Winton. A series of autobiographical episodes, read in a murmur by the author. I like his style a lot. I was in a good mood all day, except when I updated myself on the appalling fire at Grenfell Tower, near Latimer Road in West London. I've been past it on the tube a hundred times when I lived in Chiswick. Feeling incensed by how the Prime Minister Theresa May failed to talk to any of the local people affected by the tragedy on her visit. A failure as a leader and as a human. In stark contrast to Corbyn, who listened to peo

Woke up to the appalling news of a terrible fire in West London. Appalling scenes in a gorgeous hot sunny day. A news festival of course, and I watched some of the coverage on TV. Slick TV presenters uncomfortable with the dazed and traumatised people wandered about them. Lorraine avoiding coverage, due to her traumatic memories of treating people hurt at the Kings Cross fire as a young nurse. In my life all good. Worked on my novel, finalised things with the printer, having to correct the poster before it went to print. A sense of making progress. Also went to the gym. Hot and sweaty, and walking back home through the park looking at senior school children sitting about after school in the heat made me think how short life is. Can it really be 40 years since I was doing the same sort of thing? It seems like only yesterday, etc. etc. Time is not linear anyway. Chatted to Mum, who had been to meditation group the night before. It made her feel completely different about today, whi

Work in the morning, then off to get my hair cut at lunchtime, as it was beginning to go weird again. The bald patch just makes the weirdness worse, deforming the expectation of how hair should behave. Nice blokes in the barbers. Found myself talking about Edinburgh lots. Then I bought some dirt cheap sneakers, identical to the pair I last had, and a couple of dirt cheap gym teeshirts manufactured in Bangladesh, with a Slazenger logo on them. Afterwards I wondered what appalling conditions these were made in, to get two teeshirts for £7. Home again, and spoke to Mum. Later I cooked squid, once Lorraine had returned from dancing Charleston. We had squid last night too. Squids are our friends. Below, something fantastic in Brighton.

A happy Monday. I feel as if I have quietly won the pools, not having to schlepp up to London still. Lots to be done. Reworked the Edinburgh script, so as to tweak it for Matt and an Edinburgh audience. Did layouts of adverts and posters and so on. Also went to the gym, and decided that my wellbeing was important. Consciously shunning stress and doing things to promote happiness. Like strolling through the rose garden on the way back from the gym and giving my nose a treat. Chatted to Mum, as I hadn't spoken to her over the weekend and she's fine apart from Salty having been wounded in some kind of difference of opinion with crows, Mum thinks. Later, Lorraine and I watched the dystopian Handmaid's Tale tonight. Quite pleased that things haven't got that bad yet. And we went for a walk in the balmy summer evening together through Blakers Park and streets nearby. Lorraine smelling flowers wherever she goes.

A slower start this morning. Eventually I slipped off and bought some chewy brown bread, and started breakfast. This was our official bread day. I had weighed myself yesterday and have lost a bit of weight which is good, despite not trying too hard. After brunch Lorraine and I drove off to Waitrose to buy some reassuringly bourgeois and slimming food, including squid. While there, we bumped into Sarah and JD. Spoke to JD, looking perfectly French in a stripy jumper and bright blue trousers, about Macron and the French elections, our elections and about Brexit, while the ladies were discussing other matters. Home and then into the garden, where Lorraine and I worked steadily for a few hours, while the cats charged about. Indoors to find Cactus, next door's ginger tom, had invaded our house while we had the back door open. Our cats utterly useless. It weaselled its way into Beth's room and hid, then bolted for freedom. Then Lorraine did stuff for school, and I caught up with bl

Up late and zoomed down to Brighton station where I met Klaudia and Anton. Klaudia and I were off to London for her golden ticket day. We caught the train, and zoomed up to Victoria discussing a wide variety of matters such as the number of murderers you walk past in a lifetime, her trip to Australia, my play and so on. At Victoria we walked off to find the Wagamama restaurant in Cardinal Place. Klaudia is a big fan of Wagamama and already had her order clear in her head before we arrived. We both had chicken katsu curry, Klaudia ordering a plate of plain noodles as a side dish. We shared some ribs, and finished off with guava and passion fruit sorbet (Klaudia) and yusu ice-cream (moi). Then to the nearby Apollo Victoria theatre to see the musical  Wicked ,  based on a 1995 novel by Gregory Maguire, called 'Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West' A different take on goings-on in Oz. It was a spectacular show, and Klaudia enjoyed it lots. Even I, not the wo

Spent the morning trying to get my head around the Election results, and generally feeling heartened by them. Went to sleep not believing the polls taken of voters that there would be a hung parliament, and hearing the first to election results which showed a much smaller swing to labour. Awoke to find the nation reeling in surprise that the Jeremy Corbyn's campaign had been so successful, while Theresa May's robotic reputation of strong and stable, whiled doing U-Turns and hiding from the public had mysteriously not gone down so well.  What I am most pleased about is that there are clear signs that young people actually voted in their droves this time, many of them energised by Labour. This has to be good for democracy. Pleased also to see the MP I voted for, Caroline Lucas, who is the only Green MP in parliament greatly increase her majority. She is pound for pound one of the most effective MPs around. As I put on a rare Facebook post, we need bridge builders not balloon juic

Election day, and a fairly busy one for me. Lots to do this morning, before walking to Hove to see Helen. On route, I pulled my coat on, and my watch strap came off and my new watch fell to the pavement face first and burst like an egg. Somewhat galled by this. To Helen's. She played me thirty minutes of new music in Act Two of the opera. Some really sophisticated  composing I think. Excellent stuff. Her sons were there too, and I got to meet them before zooming off to the The Boots aka The Duke of Wellington, where Beth and Matt Colborne were rehearsing. Had a pretty good session with them, and a cheeky beer before I walked home, where I was repeatedly plagued by election door knockers from the Green Party, wondering if I had voted yet. When Lorraine came home, we drove off to cast our vote (both for Caroline Lucas). Finally home, and after supper, I started watching coverage of the Election at 10, with their Exit poll predicting a hung parliament. General astonishment at th

Lorraine up and off this morning. I struggled out of bed and walked down to the doctor's surgery to have my blood pressure taken at 8:30. I told the nice nurse I have white coat syndrome, and it would be high. It was high. So we took it again and it was higher. After a while she took it again. This time I pictured Lorraine's face and it fell twenty points. Still not ideal though, and will have a yearly check up with my doctor on Friday. Nice that imagining my lovely wife is calming. Then to the non-ideologically sound Starbucks for a couple of hours, had a cup of tea and a small breakfast, and wrote an aesthetic manifesto. Then up to the gym. A man, possibly Brazilian, pelted after me to ask in broken English if I had left my phone in Starbucks. I hadn't, as it was the Japanese woman who was sitting next to me had plugged hers in under my table.  But an extraordinarily nice thing to do, as I was already 40 yards down the street. To the gym, where I did another half hour

The morning crouched under The Cloud of Things That Must Be Done. Mostly Edinburgh stuff. Outside windy and rainy. Lorraine off to school, Betty having a quiet duvet day. Did this till two thirty then met Sarah Barnsley and Robin who came to the Preston Park Tavern. We discussed Telltale Press, and drank beer, and then gossiped about poets and poetry. Not the usual way of spending a Tuesday afternoon, but cheerful. Robin positive and cheery, as was Sarah. Felt like all the good things had been salvaged from Telltale, as we move onto another phase. Got home a little after 7:30, cheery and with my top hat slightly askew. I always learn lots when talking with those two.

Lorraine having a senior leadership meeting in the house. We got up at 7:00pm, which was mild mannered by usual standards.  I sat at my desk in the Kenny nerve centre, slowly picking up the threads of what needs to be done. Quite a lot, it turns out. I want to do is finish the novel, but the organising to be done for the Edinburgh adventure is jangling my nerves and has to be done first. I bought indemnity insurance for the play. Betty appeared in my study, and I had not seen her for a while to talk to, and she and John are getting excited about renting a flat together. I told her I was already getting empty nest syndrome. Went to the gym at lunchtime, and had a little more gas in the tank than the day before yesterday and managed half an hour on the cross trainer. Good to be exercising again, as I feel particularly unfit at present. Then we walked back home and resumed work. Enjoyed the commute home from work once I was done, and Lorraine's senior leadership team had left, w

The execrable Calliope waking me up at 5:30 again. Pesky thing. I got up to make some tea and feed it. Weighed myself, I seem to have put on weight since yesterday. The graph on my app is going completely the wrong way. Lorraine had designated today to be her day of work. I phoned Mum this morning, and then slunk off to meet Catherine and Tanya in a pub called The Geese, for Sunday lunch. It was a celebration of Tanya's birthday. Guy and Tim were there, and Wayne. A very cheery lunch, surprisingly good too. I had roast pork belly, and we all sat by a big open window with the sun coming through. Then we wandered down to the Level where there was a tent of Vegan food providers. Things like Vegan Baileys were to be had there. We'd all eaten Sunday roast so felt a bit rebellious. Great to see Catherine again, and hear how she was fresh from a triumphant Book Sprint. The idea is to lock several academics into a room together over four days and get them to produce their chapter,

I am fat and unfit. We are going on a diet and I went to the gym today. I downloaded an app and loaded my weight onto it, and set my target. It makes a nice graph. Keen to get my next reading and start the downward  trend. Scooting about in town with Lorraine. I bought myself a watch, as I had been watchless for two or three months having dropped my watch face down in the gym and all the numbers falling off it. I broke most of my own rules about watches, because it has an olive green face. At least it doesn't have Roman numerals, but it only has 12, and then lines. Also it has a date and three mini dials. It looks quite retro though, in a good way. I have checked my wrist fruitlessly for weeks, and now I don't have to, which is nice. Home and barbecued some sausages and chicken. I did this not without personal crises as the wind was swirling and coming from every direction at once. Eventually and eccentrically I had to deploy a large golfing umbrella to allow the charcoal b

Up and off early today. Cheery goodbyes from the folks at La Barbarie, and a last Guernsey Breakfast. A nice, friendly cab driver and dropped off in good time at the airport. Very sad to see Guernsey slip away underwing. A jet on the way home, and a decent flight. Big fluffy clouds building into towers here and there. A woman in the row behind us talking continuously to her child, in an unbelievably piercing voice. I noticed her talking first from right across the airport lounge, and I could hear her from a hundred yards away as we walked in the corridor towards the little domestic flights carousel room at Gatwick. I was pleased to get out of earshot. Home easily, as we had parked the car at Gatwick. Home and found Pat and Maureen there, all looking sunburned having fallen asleep on deckchairs on the pier. Maureen said she was hypnotised to sleep by the i360 going up and down. Home and we decided to go to some gardens with Pat and Maureen. Drove to the Sussex Prairie gardens, but

Last full day in Guernsey. Up for a full Guernsey Breakfast. A hot and sunny day. Lorraine we sat by the pool, and Lorraine listened to her audiobook, I read and then went for a short walk  down Rue Des Grons and returning via Longtrac, and then Rue des Marettes towards the Barbarie again. Gorgeous day. Lorraine and I then finally organised ourselves and set off for Moulin Huet. Our cunning plan was to have a snack at the cafe above the bay, but this was closed on Thursdays. So we walked back up the hill, up the water lanes where we paused to make a wish, before buying some snackables and walking down again. To the bay where the sand was about to emerge. Spent a hours there, paddling about in the sea with the sun beating down on us.  A duck and two ducklings bobbing and scooting on the waves. A few people there, a group of middle aged Germans with bulging calf muscles, who marched across the whole bay, swum efficiently in the cold water and marched off again. Most of the time there w