Toby touches down

A chat with Toby at Mum's place, him having landed successfully. Plotting coming to see him. It was stormy overnight, and I wondered if the flight had been terrible, but the Tobster had three seats to himself, and it was a smooth flight.

A cold day, but I got on quietly with some work on my poetry manuscript, and the start of something new sparked by last night's talk by Richard Powers. A hour or so work for my French agency friends, then final tweaks and uploading the podcast containing my interview with Ashanti Anderson, and doing some social media stuff. I think Ashanti will do well. She has her own publicist. 

Otherwise a calm day. I keep putting off the next round of trying to sort the bank out, because I know it will just make me mad. So instead I watched a documentary about Tony Blair and Gordon Brown, and cooked this evening. 

Below the view from the hill fort wall across the golf course to the sea gleaming on the water. A beautiful afternoon.





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