Lewes boomerang

Up very early and sent some poems off. Then slogging on concepts for my new German clients all day today, in the field of cosmetic surgery, which at least means I could be a bit more colourful in my language. Pausing only to hang up laundry, and house tidying and squirting thyroid medicine down Calliope's throat and leaving a series of unreturned voicemail messages with the clowns who did our path.

Off to Lewes again this evening for another poetry reading.  The train ticket costing me considerably less this time because I have availed myself of a senior railcard app. The money offsetting the horror of seniority. To the Needlewriters at the John Harvey Tavern the centre of all things Harveys. Availed myself of a pint of a rare Harvey's mild after I saw Jeremy drinking one. A decent night hearing poetry from Alasdair Paterson, Ruth O’Callaghan and David Swann. Particularly taken by Ruth O'Callaghan's work and I bought one of her books afterwards. Chatting afterwards in a group with Charlotte, Steven, and Janet and Rachael Playforth -- and  David Swann and James Ellis who I had not met before today. 

Managed for the second time this week to mistime the trains. This time I mooched about getting some extra steps, and buying a dubious pasty from a late night shop.

Home at a reasonable time mindful of an early morning tomorrow.