Walking and thinking and eating lots of chicken

Woke to a dusting of snow which soon disappeared after sunrise. Worked on poems, and sent off some poems. Pretty clear now about which poems will be in Sin Cycle. Walked over 14 kilometres by the end of the day some of it in the evening, and a few walks during the day thinking about what I was writing, or listening to Rabbit, Run by John Updike. I've never read or listened to a book by Updike before. Reflective of the times and attitudes. Excellently written but I find it hard to warm to the central character.

Met up with Anton in the Great Eastern, talking among other things about the meditation he has been doing. I am attracted to the idea of Anton in a lotus position thinking about the gateless gate.  He's enjoying it and doing it at the Buddhist Centre. We then followed a hot tip from Betty and walked to East Street. The smell of skunk drifting in the streets. We found a cafe called The Bok Shop which served hot wings. We ordered lots of wings, but when they arrived they were wings and thighs and bits of legs. Anton and I scarfed these, (or I overate on mine, and Anton left half of his). I then walked to a pub where Anton knew there was a pinball machine and we played this for a bit until the machine wouldn't give us its ball back. Then to the Earth and Stars for a last beer before our fond farewells.

Walking home, I gave into curiosity as I passed the Mitre, the time travelling pub I have a strange fascination with. Four drinkers at the bar, three men and a woman. I took a stool, and was greeted in a friendly fashion by the locals as I drank a pint of Harveys. But there was an undercurrent of sadness there, and the woman had just lost her husband. I continued on my way, happy to be home and slip into bed beside Lorraine and happy to have such a lucky life.

Below the view from our bedroom this morning.