Working, walking, reading
A really good five or six hours of working more fluently than I had done for some days this morning, and I made some good progress. Then I took myself for another walk, through the woods by the golf course at Hollingbury, determined to get my ten thousand paces done, though still feeling underpowered, sore throated and so on. Lorraine has this cold badly, but is still struggling into work.
I was listening to the weighty audiobook of Joseph Anton by Salman Rushdie as I trudged. I am over half way now. Fascinating story of Rushdie's life under the fatwah, but I feel his account is screaming out for a hard edit. The death sentence hanging over Rushdie for writing a book was utterly unacceptable, but Rushdie himself is hard to like, and the man who emerges from his account is complex, highly talented, wronged, with lashings of pomposity and vanity, but ultimately he is also an heroic figure.
Spoke to Mum this afternoon, and also was asked to go up to London to do some work tomorrow with Keith and the French Bloke.
Then Lorraine and I decided to try out the new Indian takeaway, The Red Chilli, that has opened around the corner. We had to wait for twenty minutes or so, so popped into the Park View. Both of us fancied cold beer on our sore throats.
Good food, although when we got home one of our items were missing. I popped back to get it and they were tremendously apologetic and gave us free cokes. The food was good too. What is excellent is that they are open till 11, which means that when I return home late from London, there is somewhere I can get an emergency takeaway from, as Jenny's the fish and chip place closes at 8 during the week. There is another place that does kebabs, pizzas and so on opposite, but having got a pizza from it once, I will never return.
Below a view from the start of the downs, back towards the sea, and the i360 (the iSore) just before I headed into the woods, and one of the numerous dog walkers that pack the area :-)
I was listening to the weighty audiobook of Joseph Anton by Salman Rushdie as I trudged. I am over half way now. Fascinating story of Rushdie's life under the fatwah, but I feel his account is screaming out for a hard edit. The death sentence hanging over Rushdie for writing a book was utterly unacceptable, but Rushdie himself is hard to like, and the man who emerges from his account is complex, highly talented, wronged, with lashings of pomposity and vanity, but ultimately he is also an heroic figure.
Spoke to Mum this afternoon, and also was asked to go up to London to do some work tomorrow with Keith and the French Bloke.
Then Lorraine and I decided to try out the new Indian takeaway, The Red Chilli, that has opened around the corner. We had to wait for twenty minutes or so, so popped into the Park View. Both of us fancied cold beer on our sore throats.
Good food, although when we got home one of our items were missing. I popped back to get it and they were tremendously apologetic and gave us free cokes. The food was good too. What is excellent is that they are open till 11, which means that when I return home late from London, there is somewhere I can get an emergency takeaway from, as Jenny's the fish and chip place closes at 8 during the week. There is another place that does kebabs, pizzas and so on opposite, but having got a pizza from it once, I will never return.
Below a view from the start of the downs, back towards the sea, and the i360 (the iSore) just before I headed into the woods, and one of the numerous dog walkers that pack the area :-)
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