A garden party
Up and doing things in the garden. The drought has done horrid things to it, and there is little point in planting anything at the moment, as it won't survive us going away on holiday.
To B&Q where we bought a willow lattice that fits perfectly over the bars of our Juliette balcony. Which means that, once the bathroom is done, we can sleep with the doors open to the sky, without the danger of Brian flinging himself off onto the rooftop, only for me to have to rescue him.
In the afternoon off to Eastbourne, for a summer garden party. It is great that Lorraine didn't have to work today, as she normally does on Sunday. We drove alongside the downs, which are unusually golden coloured and dry. Lovely party it was too, and catered, so there were smart young men opening the door and leading us to the garden, and handing out finger food and topping up your drinks. Robin and Nick have done amazing things with their garden, which is huge and has been elegantly designed.
Had lots of fun talking to my favourite poets there, Sarah and Louise with young Zach, Charlotte with her husband Pete, Jeremy Page, and Janet Sutherland, who I was able, slightly drunkenly, to be a fanboy of. Lots of gossiping with all these folks. Being with selected other poets always makes me feel saner somehow.
Drove home, with my top hat slightly askew, and Lorraine and I then went to the PPT for a roast dinner. I had yet more drink, and had to spend the rest of the night drinking pints of water, and deciding to have several days off the sauce. Just because the weather is boiling, doesn't mean it is the law to drink lager.
To B&Q where we bought a willow lattice that fits perfectly over the bars of our Juliette balcony. Which means that, once the bathroom is done, we can sleep with the doors open to the sky, without the danger of Brian flinging himself off onto the rooftop, only for me to have to rescue him.
In the afternoon off to Eastbourne, for a summer garden party. It is great that Lorraine didn't have to work today, as she normally does on Sunday. We drove alongside the downs, which are unusually golden coloured and dry. Lovely party it was too, and catered, so there were smart young men opening the door and leading us to the garden, and handing out finger food and topping up your drinks. Robin and Nick have done amazing things with their garden, which is huge and has been elegantly designed.
Had lots of fun talking to my favourite poets there, Sarah and Louise with young Zach, Charlotte with her husband Pete, Jeremy Page, and Janet Sutherland, who I was able, slightly drunkenly, to be a fanboy of. Lots of gossiping with all these folks. Being with selected other poets always makes me feel saner somehow.
Drove home, with my top hat slightly askew, and Lorraine and I then went to the PPT for a roast dinner. I had yet more drink, and had to spend the rest of the night drinking pints of water, and deciding to have several days off the sauce. Just because the weather is boiling, doesn't mean it is the law to drink lager.
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