Eight arms good

Morning mist, lovely and autumnal, then a pleasant and warmish day. I was more cheery and more productive day, not having quite the same degree of contempt for my poems as before. I worked in the morning till after lunch then I took a stroll around the nearby streets and Blakers Park, then did wall scraping for a couple of hours while listening to my new book Other Minds: the octopus and the evolution of intelligent life, by Peter Godfrey-Smith, who is a philosopher of science and octopus fancier. Fascinating stuff.  Octopuses and mammals diverged a long and wormy time ago in evolutionary terms, and the Octopus is the closest thing we'll get to meeting an alien intelligence.

Lorraine still heroically soldiering on at work, while the bug I have is hanging about too. Otherwise little to report. Texted Bob, to bump seeing him on Thursday in London. Some Telltale activity, and I am thinking in advance, while I have some time, about my poetry readings on 26th October and 1st November. Some money is coming to me from Edinburgh shows, but not much. Cooked for Lorraine and chatted. An early night.