Sheepish

Up early, with Lorraine, who scuttled off early. Beth off for another day of flat clearing. I worked quietly in the morning, and then went to the gym. Did my usual round of lightish weights and then started on the cross trainer. After about four minutes stabbing chest pains began, which I put down to indigestion. After a few minutes of this I made myself rather alarmed, to the extent I climbed off the cross trainer and mooched towards my doctor's surgery which, now it has moved happens to be across the road. However by the time I got near its door I was fine, and then burped, curing everything. I went straight back to the gym feeling sheepish, and picked up where I left off. 

Lorraine home a bit early today, and we had a nice chat before I travelled to Lewes on a windy night to the needle makers reading. There were four readers among them Clare Best, and Robert Hamberger, both of whom were excellent. Another chap read prose, and there was a woman reading the sort of poems I find it very hard to like. Cheery evening though, I sat with Stephen, Charlotte and Robin, and I chatted to Janet Sutherland, and Robert Hamberger, and Clare Best and said howdy to Jeremy Page and Catherine Smith and a few others, while forcing down a few pints of Harveys served from the barrel in the John Harvey Tavern all of a few yards away from the brewery. Made it home quite early too, and crept happily into bed, while Lorraine's iPad played Masterchef to a sleeping wifey. 

Below the rankings of Amazing Grace on Kindle, this morning... This is after selling half a dozen copies. When I start taking it into schools who knows what lofty heights I might reach.