A day of busyness

A good night's sleep in my own bed, and cooler overnight too. Lorraine and I with a list of things that must be done. I had a work offer for the time I was on holiday to reject in a way that encourages future business, and to write to Robin about guests next season on Planet Poetry.

We got on a bus together and I hopped off at the Stein and dropped of our 'wet' signed contracts with the solicitor in case we are able to swap them while we are on holds. Then I walked up to the vampire section of hospital outpatients. A ticketing system, with only one phlebotomist there. I was told the wait would be an hour or an hour and a half. Looked at my ticket and there were twenty people ahead of me. After twenty five minutes only three people had been seen so I walked down the road and found a cafe where I was passive aggressively served a cup of tea and a sandwich in the Portland cafe. When I returned to the waiting room there were three phlebotomists and my number had just gone. Argh! Luckily, I was allowed to have my blood taken immediately by the pale faced man sinking his needle into my vein. 

Home again by bus, Brighton buzzing the day before Pride, and after calling Mum and doing a few holiday prep things with Lorraine, I went off to the gym. Mum messaged en route and said that hospital were worried about his mental state as 'he was talking about his project and doing business with a prince and someone is Sweden and so on. Mum had to reassure them this was Mas being normal. Couldn't help this making me smile somewhat. I called and Mum said the doctors were going to consult again, and that he was likely to come home today at some point. 

I did my gym workout and had a shower in the gym, then mooched up to The Batty to have a fast beer with Anton. Sat in the beer garden chatting after I had called mum again, who told me that Mas would be sent home in an ambulance at some point today.  Anton in good spirits, what with it being Friday. He will have to have a knee ligament operation soon, which will require him to hop about on crutches for a few weeks. 

Mooched home chatting by text to Toby, who is now in Lefkada just over the water from Meganisi where we are headed. 

Home and Pat and Maureen were installed, having come over to cat sit and have a bit of time in Brighton. Lorraine had collected them from Eastbourne station. Nice to see them. Calliope loves sitting on Maureen, mainly I think because she doesn't move around too much. 

Sam preparing to go to Italy tomorrow where he will meet Jade.

Lorraine and I doing holiday preparations, like downloading books onto kindles and so on. Also did a spot of billing, a cheeky £200 from folks in Germany I had forgotten about.

Called Mum again and Mas had been delivered home at around 9:30 in one piece.

Later Pat showed me how to play spider solitaire and we all chatted before an early night was had by all, except Sam who was sleeping on the sofa ready for a sprint getaway tomorrow morning. 

With all this stuff going on I forgot I had a poem which came out today here in Ink Sweat & Tears. It is about how the smell of geranium leaves takes me back like a time machine to Gwen and Dave's glasshouse which was full of geraniums. 

A picture of me and Gwen sitting near Kew Bridge around 1988.