Poets altogethery

I'd slept quite well, and woke up feeling that the weight of tiredness is abating a bit. I made Mas and I some tea, I ate some toast. Mason has soup for breakfast these days, but only fancied a banana to go as a side dish with his various pills. Quite a long chat this morning, and I left when one of his carers arrived, who seemed a nice.

I walked to Mill Hill station, and trained slowly down to Preston Park, from where I walked home. On the journey I read again all the poems gathered by Sarah for the anthology. Home, and I made time for a bit of admin, including billing DDB which was nice as I sent them quite a hefty invoice. I have not yet been paid for what I did in October though, so wolf drool is beginning to splash the door.

Off next to Lewes, to meet Sarah and Robin at the entirely sensible venue choice of the Lewes Arms. Really nice to see them both, and discuss the work with them over a slow pint, and how best the poems would fit. We were in the side room, where a woman was decorating, very tastefully, for Christmas. Made me feel happy. After a couple of fascinating hours we were done, and Stephen Bone and Charlotte arrived (referred to as The Gann by Sarah who had summoned her). We all had a great time gossiping and talking about poems. These are some of my favourite and most interesting people that I've met through poetry. Sessions like this make you feel that you're not entirely bizarre in your pursuits and that there are people out there who understand what it is to be troubled by a love of poetry. Eventually Stephen and Charlotte had to go their separate ways, and I wanted to get back home to see Lorraine. Fond farewells. Home clutching a bag of biscuity stars that Robin had made for Christmas.

A train back to Brighton with Sarah. I walked up the hill from London Road Station seeing how the houses are beginning to twinkle with Christmas lights. Got home to sit with Lorraine on the gold sofa and chat about the day, before slinking happily upstairs to bed.

Below, the Lewes Arms. As fine a venue for an assembly of poets as is possible to imagine, and the Lewes War Memorial which particularly caught my eye today as I walked there.


A said…
The LA used to have a basket of hard-boiled eggs on the bar. Naturally a target for practical jokes.....