under another sun

A good night's sleep and feeling less feverish. More than happy just to be able to slump, and recover from the bug and hang out with Lorraine. The friend of mine who died was Glen, and he died in Greece. I texted Matt Had to break the news to him, he was shopping in Leeds. He was shocked of course. His impulse is to do something to celebrate him, and I agree. Richard has gone to Kavala along with another of Glen's friends to get things sorted out. I don't think writing about this any more is appropriate just now. Lying on the sofa watching some Scandinavian cop show with Lorraine, before going to bed feeling safe and happy makes me realise yet again just how lucky I am.

Woke up feeling ill exhausted and hot, and breakfasted on paracetamol. A bad night, through being ill and waking up feeling desperately sad about our friend. I tried not to think about the despair he must have felt to reach a point where you kill yourself. Pleased not to travel up to London. Instead slogged at my desk 8:30 till 6:30 on this job that had turned into a nightmare. Still feeling very angry and resentful about this job. I had today to bash out reams of unnecessary work at a ridiculously fast clip, that wasn't even being received by the CD because it was going into his spam file. By 6:30 it was finally done. I called Mum, and cancelled our trip tomorrow as I don't want to infect her and Mas. My saintly wife cooked us a lovely roast chicken, and was still talking to me after I had been moaning and swearing all day. We ate this happily, and watched the end of the derivative but fun  Stranger Things season two before an early night.

Up to work on the train, found that Matthew had loaded my new short story What You Look For on the Horla site. Into work. Workmen all around making loads of noise, had to leave my desk to find a quiet corner. Began to feel ill and feverish, but consulted my inner Lorraine, and simply popped out to buy paracetamol and have these with tea. A short walk in a nearby park, called Oakley Square Gardens, and then back into the agency to prepare to present the concepts to the MD and the wider team this afternoon, but feeling fairly confident after the meeting I had yesterday evening. The meeting went sour. The creative director who had okayed the ideas yesterday began picking holes and claiming I had not done things he had asked of  me. His role, one I have done many times, was to support the creative presentation, not to try to humiliate his team and lie through his teeth. I  finished this meeting seething, feeling very hot and ill. The man, appeasingly after the meeting, said I could fini

Wednesday is hump day. Up and off to London again, walking down to the station, and happily the day somewhat cooler. Had some French work to finish off on the train in the morning, then into the agency. My Art Director sick at home, but pushed on with the work regardless. Presented to the Creative Director late in the afternoon, and all happy with the progress. Back to Brighton, and went down to The Basketmakers Arms , which as crowded, with folks crowding outside too as it is about to be sold to new owners who the word is will not change a winning formula. Had a cheeky drink in there with Betty and Lorraine, which was great fun. Couple sat next to us, and the man spilt his cider all over his wife and lapdog. Lapdog shook itself over my trousers. Then toto Wahaca restaurant for a quick bite. Made me think of Oaxaca in Mexico, which the name is an anglicisation. I ate grasshoppers there, and they put a spring in my step. A happy evening tonight, and L and I were in bed early after g

Really hot again. Lorraine off to school early to do some work before going to the gym to meet Rosie, now fortunately released back to the wild after being in hospital, for a spa. Lorraine dropped me at Preston Park, and I travelled up to St Pancras to start a few days work at the agency in the building with large black cats by Mornington Crescent. Happily an incident free journey, and I arrived fresh and on time. A nice job, writing an animation for children for a pharma pitch. Was in a meeting being briefed inside ten minutes, which is a bit of a novelty, working with a good art director called Kasia, who had to leave in the middle of the afternoon as she was streaming with a cold and feeling feverish. I managed to get an early train back to Brighton, where I sloped into town to meet my old university pals Dave (Swifty) Morgan and Amanda, who were sitting outside The Dorset. Amanda now happily living in Shoreham, and David about to start a new job in Oxford University to do with

A day of doing housework Lorraine and I hoovered and cleaned bathrooms, on the hottest late August Bank holiday weekend ever. We also made more plum jam, bending over the bubbling pot. A salad lunch outside for lunch, where I discovered that Matthew Rees had accepted my horror story What You Look For , which I was chuffed about. He said this would go live on the site quickly.  This means that I now have three horror stories pending publication. Am feeling quietly pleased with myself. Really nice note from Matthew, he seems a really nice guy as well as being an excellent writer. In the late afternoon we sauntered down through Preston Park. Bumped into Reuben playing football with his youngest boy like the excellent dad he is. Then we walked up to my old neck of the woods by the station, fording the human river beginning to turn back from the sea to the station.  To an evening with Claudius, who had a few friends and a barbecue in his back yard. Among them was Steve, who it was excel

Such a beautiful day, we decided to go for a spontaneous trip to Dungeness, which had so taken my fancy last year. It meant that we could pop in on Pat and Maureen too on the way home. Gorgeous day, and we drove along the coast through Hastings and eventually found our way to Dungeness. It is a strange landscape, very flat and no trees, so that anything vertical can be seen for miles. Gives me slight feelings of  overexposure there, but it is manageable. We walked from the car down to the pebbly shore, and Lorraine spotted something poking out of the water. On further sightings we decided it was a seal. Every now and then it would disappear, and on one occasion I saw a sizeable fish leap out of the sea, obviously fleeing a predator. From here we mooched about in the heat. A surreal landscape. Passed by Prospect Cottage once owned by Derek Jarman. It would be lovely to look more closely at the garden. We stopped off at the Pilot for a cold drink, before driving along the coast to D

A quiet day, feeling a bit sore throaty catching up with stuff from my desk, working out how to use my SketchBook software, and a spot of billing. Confirmation that I am working in London next week too, good for the Kenny coffers. Spoke to Mum and arranged a visit to Edgware for next weekend. Heard we will get some money back from SleasyJet for the cancelled flight. Lorraine working today, I popped into the gym this afternoon, which I felt pleased with myself about, despite not feeling particularly energetic. We had a dinner outside, and played cards for a bit before sloping indoors to binge-watch  Stranger Things .

A call from Maureen saying that her sister Rose had died. Lorraine was out but called her back shortly. I met Rose only once, in Basingstoke four years ago. She introduced herself to me by saying 'hello sexy' and said she wanted to take me home. I liked her. Maureen naturally very sad. Lorraine off to school early to deal with boiler people and IT people -- and then have her hair cut in the afternoon. I simply re-edited The Merger , and sent this off to The Short Fiction Journal . Fingers crossed. I have also been learning how to use the PaintBox digital design package, and have sent off for a beginner's graphics pad so that I can draw directly onto the screen. Contacted about a job for next week by the same people who blew me out for a two week stint when I was in Sicily, will find out tomorrow if I have it. In the afternoon I walked to John and Beth's flat, to meet Lorraine who had sparkling new hair and was looking lovely. We went out to the sea, taking Bailey Be

A bit more in focus revisited the story, The Merger , I wrote on holiday in Sicily, and also the What You Look For story I wrote shortly before I left. I sent What You Look For to Matthew Rees at Horla with fingers crossed. I also started working on the cover for Magnificent Grace. Lorraine working at home today. I got busy with the water pressure cleaner on the decking, and took off most of a year's worth of grime and guano. This is the closest I came to working with power tools, and it made me feel like a man.    In the evening we walked off to meet Anton in the Batty, where he handed over a Sherlock Holmes game for L and I to play. We had a bite to eat there, and generally caught up on gossip. Anton having the massive pain of having to sort out the identity theft that happened a few weeks ago, people buying stuff in Brighton. He is off on a short holiday with the bairns next week.  We left the Batty which is in its final weeks before the new owners take over and rev

At my desk today, and the picking up the reigns a fairly nice feeling. Nice to get a positive message from Pat about the work I'd done with him last week.  To the London Road gym at lunchtime, did a  moderate workout but felt unusually tired, and slept this afternoon. Lorraine working from home this afternoon which was lovely. I love just hanging out with her at home.

Up fairly early today. Turned over in bed this morning, half asleep, and had a passing moment of vertigo, where I felt I was falling through the bed out of control. Woke up nastily. It was a Monday, and was gripped by the feeling I should be doing something. Dawn called around this morning for coffee and a chat, she is obviously sad about her dad -- and there will be the funeral this wednesday. In the afternoon, Lorraine went to visit Rosie in hospital. I went to the gym, and started to get a grip on life again, making an appointment for the optician and the dentist. When Lorraine got back, we slew the dragon and made a claim to not-so-EasyJet for the delays and cancellations we endured. This involved uploading receipts and so on, but was not quite as painful as it could have been. Also we looked at our wedding photos, with the view of producing an album of it. An evening in, decided to watch two films with Lorraine. One was fairly useless: The Other Man , with Liam Neilson, and

When the rain stopped, Lorraine and I cleared the back garden of bits of junk, and carried slabs and wooden pallets to the front, and generally tidied up the plants and cut the hedge and so on. We also picked our plums, of which there were many more than last year. From these we made plum jam, and had a good haul from it as you can see from Lorraine and the jars below. There are more on the tree to be had too. Otherwise, a very happy day at home. Spoke to Mum too, and Lorraine chatted with Pat and Maureen. Below Lorraine and plum jam, and a bright almost neon green cricket that found its way onto me from the ivy.

A day of being on holiday, but in Brighton. Weighed myself this morning, and found I now weigh less than when I started the holiday, so back on track. Lorraine and I feeling relaxed, headed into town. L got a bit of shopping, and I went into the barbers, getting Stacy who cut my hair before L and I were married. Lorraine came and waited in the barbers, prompting Stacy to be even more perfectionist that usual. After this we sloped about trying to decide on a bite to eat, and ended up dropping into the Basketmakers, where we had a quick drink and a meal. It was nice to be there, as it is definitely the pub with the most associations for us in Brighton. Joe the barman was on, although he said he was just doing a shift to help out as he had become a recruitment consultant. After this, a spot more shopping and then we wandered back to the Duke of York's Picturehouse to see One upon a time in Hollywood , the new Tarantino movie. Both of us entertained by this, although there was plen

Unutterably lovely to actually wake up at home with no necessity to zoom off anywhere. My first day at home for three weeks, and it was great. Spent the morning tidying away clothes, and chatting to Lorraine. Brian had a massive fight with another cat while we were in the garden, luckily no vet's bills were incurred (for us at least). I have also been wrapped up in myself, but Rosie has been in hospital, and Dawn's dad died when we were in Sicily, her mother had passed last year. Close friends are struggling with challenges, but I feel very fortunate today, if a bit shattered. A cheery young plumber came this morning and checked our boiler and also installed a tap in the garden, this was exciting because we can easily water our garden, and I can deploy the water pressure cleaner on the decking. Both were impossible to do earlier with any ease. Spoke to Mum, who is concerned about Felix, who has an injured foot which has had stitches in it. He is now wearing an Elizabethan

With some trepidation headed off to Hampton again. A slight delay but nothing dramatic, thank God. Showed Pat the stuff I had worked on in the train this morning, drew it up and walked with Pat to Waitrose to buy a bite for lunch, and then, after a few conversations, I was done by early afternoon. Fond farewells with my Hampton pals and I was released back into the wild. The FB on vegans: ‘why would anyone voluntarily put themselves at the bottom of the food chain'. Very happy to be homeward bound. Got off the train at Brighton, and headed to The Basketmakers, where I had an emotional encounter with a pint of lager.  I met Lorraine and we mooched off to the Dorset to meet some of my new pals from stained glass: Yvonne, Adele, and Sally, with their respective husbands, Brian, a lovely emotionally intelligent man, Patrick a singer of Opera and writer of music, and Marek an architect. Had an unexpectedly great night out as the other halves all turned out to be excellent, thoroug

Up with the larks, and down to Preston Park to attempt, unsuccessfully, to get a pass backdated to cover yesterday for twenty minutes at Preston Park. The man there ended up stamping my old tickets with a permission to travel today. He poked them into my travel card holder, where they instantly smudged unreadably. Tweeted to Southern, no joy. Arrived at Clapham Junction, got off the train which then killed someone as it pulled out of the station. Luckily I did not see this, nor did I attempt to ghoul. Felt  horrible about the poor soul who, as I read later in the day, had died instantly. Utter mayhem again. I phoned Lorraine in the middle of it, feeling really stressed. No trains at all, a helicopter landing nearby and so on. After huge delays, and being shepherded to another platform,  we were told to travel into Waterloo, (where I had to make various explanations about smudged, unorthodox tickets) then back out to Kingston. From there I caught a pink taxi, for the fairly short dist

Up at six thirty, and off to Hampton. Lorraine had prepared a lovely lunch for me, which I discovered later I had left in the kitchen at home. The office at Preston Park closed, forcing me to buy a day return instead of a weekly pass. There was a ticket inspector on the train, and he told me to get it swapped at Clapham. At Clapham, they couldn't swap it, and to try Victoria. Obviously completely out of my way. Bought a coffee and went to my platform. All trains delayed, then mine cancelled completely. The train only comes once every half an hour. The next one greatly delayed, so that I spent 75 minutes on the platform stressed, and becoming hideously late. Cancellations, we were told, due to 'congestion'. In my ignorance, I had thought the idea of trains was that it eliminated congestion. On the back of waiting for 27 hours for a plane over the weekend, this was really frustrating. Work fine, once I got there. Walked off to Waitrose with Pat, and the French Bloke and P

A dead to the world six hours of sleep, then set off for London. Felt quite springy and cheery walking down to Preston Park. Up to Clapham Junction, then across the platform for a half hour's ride to Hampton. Good to see old work buddies again, The old French Bloke, happily all stabilised after a heart op, Pat and Perky. Spent all morning discussing the pitch they will make on Friday, and absorbing lots of information about the product related to the microbiome in your gut. At one point I learned about probiotic yoghurts and so on. Apparently very little, if any, of the supposedly good bacteria gets beyond your stomach and survives where it is supposed to do you good. Feeling tired and braindead from time to time. I have barely been home. A quick chat with Mum at lunch, standing by the river. Went to the Jolly Coopers with Pat and Michel at lunch. The FB lately a thoroughly reformed character, drinking soda and lime, which I joined him in. Pat came in a few minutes later and ha

Up in our rented room in Catania, and we had to be out by 10:30. Trundled the cases down to the place we stopped at for a cheeky beer last night by a crossroads. Very hot of course. We had breakfast, me choosing a panini full of french fries and hotdogs. Tasty, of course, but morally reprehensible. A table nearby of English people being rude to the staff. We trundled through the lovely Piazza Duomo to a hateful bus station where we were hounded by unlicensed taxi drivers. We headed back to the Piazza where we found a taxi rank. A high-speed exhibition of Italian driving dodging about the road and hooting people you were tailgating, we reached the airport. Our plane was delayed by hours again, and we spent the rest of the tedious day waiting for the plane which none of us felt was in any way guaranteed. A pretty lousy way to spend eight hours. EasyJet are rabble. But once we were flying, it was easy to prioritise the nice memories of our time there. The flight eventually took off at

Barely heard Toby and Romy creeping off this morning at an eye-watering 4AM. I had a nightmare about a brother that disappeared, and woke up in a strangely Toby and Romy-less place. The rest of us got up early, finished packing, and all had a last dip in the incomparable pool. Tina arrived at around 9:45 as we were zooming around. I was ironing one of Lorraine's tops, and she took it from me and finished it. We all really liked Tina. Then final things squeezed into the car, and we set off for a last mooch about in Noto, where we had granita breakfasts, and looked at a few places. Another swelteringly hot day. As we were making our way back to the car to drive up to the airport, Lorraine got a message from EasyJet saying our flight had been cancelled until tomorrow. This all a bit horrible, and under some stress we managed to book a room in a hotel in Catania urgently for tonight using our phones. Trying to get everything else sorted was hard, and Beth and John were great at mak

It was our last full day in Sicily. Lurking about in the house, and dipping in the pool. I for one not ready to leave yet. Up in the middle of the night worrying about balancing my two work offers. Ended up getting up while at about 4-ish and typing an email in bed next to Lorraine. Now at last able to sleep, however, the flappy-flappy monster returned, emitting what may have been a few faint hoots, and poltergeisted around for a bit before settling. A good thing I did email, as the two weeks work I had been offered had evaporated, without anybody bothering to tell me.  Luckily, I was able to contact Pat and say I'd be able to work with him next week instead. In the afternoon we all drove to the sea, Beth and John in Toby and Romy's car, where we reached a lovely lido that Toby and Romy had visited a few days ago one afternoon. We enjoyed a light, and fishy lunch, and then -- as Romy had cleverly booked the restaurant, plus sunbeds in advance -- we basked under our paraso

Another home day for Lorraine, Beth and John and I. Toby and Romy had a short trip out in the afternoon. Typically I got another offer for work next week from my pal Pat, having said yes to some other work. This previous job however was not confirmed, like it was supposed to be. So I am not sure what next week looks like yet, but it seems there will be some money in it. Otherwise a happy day. I continued with The Leopard , which is a magnificent book. Also spent lots of time in the pool with Lorraine, Beth and John throwing a small ball around, playing a game that was quickly dubbed the Plop it! on account of the noise the ball makes as it falls in the water. The object of the game is to throw the ball high in the air, so that it makes a satisfying plop in the water, and if you can make it splash someone's face at the same time this is a win. If you can splash two people at the same time, this is a double plop. When they got back, Toby made Fernet-Branca and cokes and we sippe

Another beautiful day. No surging up to get on with things this morning, although Beth and John were up early basking by the pool. Huge amounts of food to be eaten at lunchtime, not eaten from the day before. Beautiful food. Simply spent the day hanging around chatting. So nice to talk to Romy at length again, having not seen her for ages before this holiday. In the afternoon Toby, Romy and John popped into Noto. I had a deep sleep in the afternoon, followed by a swim and a bob in the pool with Lorraine and Betty. Lorraine finished the second Montalbano book, and I started the Leopard by Lampedusa. I was offered some work for a couple of weeks starting next Monday in London, which I gladly accepted too. Seems that what I need to do to boost my writing career and freelance is go away on more holidays. We were here for Tina too, and were theatrically treated to ravioli of utter brilliance, a meaty stew of pork and sausages cooked with fennel in a rich tomato sauce, served with sala

Off today to Siracusa, all piled into cars. Toby and Romy left sensibly early. Lorraine, navigated by me and google, got lost a few times in the harbour town. Eventually we found the car park, and threaded through the mazy lanes to the Doric Temple of Apollo, where we met Toby and Romy, and Agata our guide for the morning. She was an amazing Sicilian polyglot who spoke a list of languages, and was now acquiring Japanese for fun. She talked fondly of London, and the magic of going for a job interview in the snow. Later, she lived in Norway for a couple of years, drawn there by love. She outlined the amazing historical richness of the town, a story with Ancient Greek origins epitomised by the ruin we stood beside, through Romans, and taking in arabs and Normans and the Spanish and others. She led us into a food market, the stalls piled with fruits and vegetables, spices and herbs, and fish stalls too. I noticed some had longnose, or garfish on slabs, as well as enormous swordfish. She