A day of friends
Quite motivated this morning, sent my children's novel off to a U.S. literary agent, entered Sin Cycle into the Magma pamphlet competition, among other stuff. Then walked over to see Janet in Hove, as there was a respite carer in to look after Ken.
Janet somewhat tired, so she hopped aboard Ken's wheelchair and we trundled up the road to a restaurant called Third Avenue, where we had a bite to eat, and two glasses each of a non-alcoholic berry and crushed ice drink. Service was snailish, but we had a good chat, and Janet is wisely getting her affairs in order.
Back at Janet's house we sat in the back room, as Ken and Janet shared a crafty cigarette. I saw that the tomatoes Janet had put in were full of fruit, and she asked me to pick them. She has always had green fingers, and her new little garden was full of stripy, and red, and yellow tomatoes. When I picked them, the smell took me back to childhood. Janet gave me a big bag of them to take away.
I hopped on a bus home, and just as I got off, I was called by mes amis in France with another urgent job, and as the Paddington people hadn't got back to me I agreed to do it. This one about dog diseases. Home and a long chat with Mum, who I am having to bump tomorrow as I have this new French work to do. I will see her next week instead.
Then down at 5:30 to the Preston Park Tavern where I met Robin, Sarah and Stephen for a good gossip about poets and poetry and a drink (although not Stephen as he was driving). Lorraine joined us after a couple of hours. After another half an hour or so, the poets all left, and Lorraine and I had a bite there, although Lorraine had to take back her food twice, and wasn't happy with it.
Home, early and into bed soon. We are still reading the childhood book, The Secret Garden, but it is a beautiful book in many ways, and focused on healing and growth, good things to think about before it's time to sleep.
Janet somewhat tired, so she hopped aboard Ken's wheelchair and we trundled up the road to a restaurant called Third Avenue, where we had a bite to eat, and two glasses each of a non-alcoholic berry and crushed ice drink. Service was snailish, but we had a good chat, and Janet is wisely getting her affairs in order.
Back at Janet's house we sat in the back room, as Ken and Janet shared a crafty cigarette. I saw that the tomatoes Janet had put in were full of fruit, and she asked me to pick them. She has always had green fingers, and her new little garden was full of stripy, and red, and yellow tomatoes. When I picked them, the smell took me back to childhood. Janet gave me a big bag of them to take away.
I hopped on a bus home, and just as I got off, I was called by mes amis in France with another urgent job, and as the Paddington people hadn't got back to me I agreed to do it. This one about dog diseases. Home and a long chat with Mum, who I am having to bump tomorrow as I have this new French work to do. I will see her next week instead.
Then down at 5:30 to the Preston Park Tavern where I met Robin, Sarah and Stephen for a good gossip about poets and poetry and a drink (although not Stephen as he was driving). Lorraine joined us after a couple of hours. After another half an hour or so, the poets all left, and Lorraine and I had a bite there, although Lorraine had to take back her food twice, and wasn't happy with it.
Home, early and into bed soon. We are still reading the childhood book, The Secret Garden, but it is a beautiful book in many ways, and focused on healing and growth, good things to think about before it's time to sleep.
Comments