under another sun

A day of action. After Lorraine and I plotted the job out on paper, raging with testosterone I used deeply masculine tools such as circular saws and drills and spanners and power screwdrivers , to drive coach screws into the sleeper I cut s to make the base of a cold frame that Lorraine wanted as a halfway house between the glasshouse and the outside world. Lorraine meanwhile did everything else, but without making so much of a fuss of it. Beth and James popped by this afternoon, the first time they had left home for a while, having had the lurgy.  Had a nice chat with James. They are being fairly philosophical despite having had a bit of a wretched week with the house falling through for various reasons, and both having a covid-like bug and working too.   Enjoyed just being at home with Lorraine tonight, and feeling quite a bit better than I have done for a while.  Here is a picture of a few of today's tomatoes and a harvest of green chillies and Padrón peppers and also a marigold

So feeling a tad brighter. Covid test was negative. Not poked one of those bad boys up my nose for a while. Unhappy memories. I sloped about doing nothing much, instead of meeting up with Mark Hartley and Peter Hoibak today, my old school pals, as I had planned.   Finished The Naked Neanderthal , by Ludovic Slimak, which was better about what the author thought was erroneous in the study of Neanderthals than on what was actually true. Nevertheless, deeply interesting. The thrust was that we should stop looking for ourselves in Neanderthals and try to see them on their own terms for what they were. He thinks they were creative people, with less of an ego compared to Sapiens. Their demise was brought about by Sapiens simply, he thinks based on his his work in a cave where Neanderthals lived for millennia and then were replaced in the space of a year by Sapiens. A nasty business first ethnic cleansing.  A weird side effect. I am interested now in going to Jersey, as there is a Neanderthal

Woke up feeling unwell. A bit of a temperature and zero energy. Have had to bump my several social arrangements for this week -- also decided to bump the freelance work I was offered yesterday.    Otherwise, lay on the sofa and slept lots, in between listening to my audiobook, The Naked Neanderthal , by Ludovic Slimak. The perfect thing to be doing, as it took zero energy and nothing fascinates me as much as the story of hominids and early humans. A good article here .  Lorraine looking after me, fairly early to bed.

Beth and James's move to Seaford has been scuppered for the time being. Their purchaser's mortgage lenders valued Beth and James flat at less than they had agreed. Which is exactly what happened to them with the property in Seaford. Very frustrating for everyone, but Beth and James being fairly  philosophical. It is just not a time to move.  Struggling to get my interview notes written for my next interview. The book's sources are various and I found myself having to read in lots of directions.  Picking up S peaking of Siva , and Paradiso neither have which have troubled me since the 80s. Brain not working with alacrity. I popped out for a cup of decaf coffee with Palo who Lorraine and I like lots. Palo paints from her imagination, not from life, and I really liked how she was talking about the magical unpredictability of paint and water. She says this is in reaction to her academic career -- as an expert in public health -- and having to be very formal and organised. I re

Adele and Patrick called round late this afternoon, armed with Shakespeares, and we read aloud the all of King Lear over the next few hours, taking the parts we drew. I haven't read the entire play of King Lear since 1982, so it was an education in itself and an amusing way of spending the evening. Patrick being both the fool and King Lear.  We broke off for food halfway through. Lorraine had cooked a chicken curry and channa dhal and rice, all of which was delicious.  Below some of the Kenny Farm produce, some of the beautiful Aubergines, still growing, and cucumbers and a couple of red chillies. Many of the cucumbers Lorraine turned into cucumber pickle, which is delicious. 

Spoke to Toby this afternoon, as I was on the train just leaving Seaford. Every now and then technology, invisible to so many of us already, still strike me as remarkable -- that I can be chatting to my brother in Canada while looking out of a train at the English Channel in Sussex.  Off late this afternoon to Hove, where I met Anton. Just after I went through the barriers a thwack of an older man falling onto the floor on his forehead. Luckily people were helping him immediately, and the station people had called for help. I couldn't add anything to the help he was getting, but just walking away felt bad though. Great to see Anton as ever, and put the world to right over a few beers. Ate at The Stirling Arms, which is what the Foragers has now become, street food, of all kinds. I had a couple of small cheesy olive chilli and avocado and chicken taco (all the ingredients in small amounts, and some generous ribs. Lots to chat over. Anton quite interested by the Ancestry.com stuff I&

Lorraine and I off this evening to the Barn to see a film about Dunstan Bruce called I get knocked down , and his experience in the band Chumbawumba and, now that he is older whether any of his activism or art made a difference. Dunstan was there afterwards and we got a chance to ask him a few questions.  As ever, in film, always fun to see areas you know really well on the silver screen, and a pub that Anton and I had drunk in. To be honest, I 'm not that fussed about Chumbawumba, but Dunstan seemed a good bloke and the story of the anarchist group making it big in America with their big hit Tubthumping  was interesting, and the film was thoughtful and I'm pleased I saw it. All in all a feather in Adele's cap, having organised the evening. To The Old Boot Inn briefly afterwards, where we had a quick drink with Adele and Patrick, and Kate and Andrew, Chris (the lovely thoughtful guy who replaced our boiler) and his wife Amanda who had all seen the film.  Mooched home chatt

Working on my writing this morning, and getting together interview notes. A longish walk this afternoon, and I finished listening to an Audiobook Where Shall We Run To by Alan Garner, a writer I loved as a child, and who is still going. Interesting as a piece of history, and a fragment of the formative experiences up in Alderly Edge that shaped him as he went to school during the Second World War. He talked about 'the vaccies' who were evacuee children. He said there were some from Guernsey where he was at school. The one grinding note was he said they came from Torreville school, instead of Torteval school. Gah. I hate how much a tiny mistake like this can rankle. But an interesting short book. Anyway, my walk was splendid, up the side paths of Seaford Head, building my confidence and joining the dots even more. Also mooched along the seafront. A gorgeous day.  Home and Lorraine came back this evening. All well. A black and white photos sort of day, due to the lovely clouds,

The new normal: got up with Lorraine, had a hearty breakfast: a yoghurt, kefir, seeds, nuts and berry filled bowl, plus a piece of Lorraine's delicious sourdough bread, and a boiled egg. I worked on some writing, and also reading the guest's book and sent some emails. I also completed a poem that had been commissioned by Sue on the death of her father. She sent me lots of notes about what he was like, and I did my best to turn them into something. I hope it does the trick. Yesterday's discoveries bubbling away in my subconscious. Instead of a complete blank, there are now at least photographs -- in some ways it feels like a kind of closure. Off to the gym again late this afternoon, but it was full of weirdly muscular schoolboys  (and some schoolgirls) who go after school. They don't use the lockers, but leave all their identical bags hanging in the changing room. Very trusting, but that's Seaford. Beth came around this afternoon, and was working from the soft office

Awake early.  Grey and blowing a gale as Gwen used to say, in Seaford this morning. Sat working on my laptop on my kitchen table for a while. Today I took a helicopter view of my manuscript and deciding it needs to be a bit slimmer -- which is a better position than needing more material.  Lorraine off to the gym today, and then saw Sally and Marek for lunch and a catch up. I did bits and pieces of writing, but finding focus a little hard to come by. Off to the gym after lunch and I did a bit more. Something lovely about walking through the streets, with everything seeming cooler and more autumnal, and windy. Autumn must be the most poetic of all seasons precisely because of its mix of beauty and sadness.   Home again and I spent time reading the book of one of my podcast guest  Lorraine home late this afternoon, having had a good time, and I cooked this evening. After a smidge of TV we opted to listen to music tonight. Listened to Górecki's Symphony No.3.   I went back onto Ancest

A thundery night, but up fairly early, and scarfed a solitary breakfast and made off to Seaford station leaving Lorraine with a cup of tea. It was just starting to rain again. Up to London, working on various things. Signed onto the onboard wifi and got an email from the editor of a Scottish magazine called Dreich Magazine & Press (byeline: 'Made in Scotland from Words')  saying he wanted to use all four of the poems I had sent him a few days ago -- these were Eat this Poem , yay! I finally found a home for this bad boy, plus X-ray style , Homesick , and Ye Olde Majority Inn (first draft written in the Wellington in Seaford). This cheering. Also a nice text from Palo Almond saying she would be up to discuss a collaboration. Also cheering. So to the Jolly Badger, where Mum and Mas were just arriving. Had lunch with them, quite busy for a Monday, and the place full of smoke from the kitchen area as usual. Mum okay, and Mason seemed not too bad, though his mobility is not go

Up and off to Borde Hill Gardens this morning, just north of Haywards Heath (aka by me at least as Hateful Heath). A beautiful gardens.  On Friday Lorraine spontaneously invited Freya to come with us as Steve was off shooting black powder pistols, as is his wont.  She was great company, and we learned about her life in California, and her time in Berlin and living in San Franciso and so on. One out of the car, it was a bit of a race against the weather. We bought some unusual plants from the plant show, and then had a walk around the gardens. It began thundering and there were some jags of lightning just to the west of the garden. I reminded Freya that this was the traditional end to a trip out in Blighty. However by the time we reached Seaford the sun had returned. Freya somehow with Lorraine’s assistance hooked our smart TV up with her film library — and we have lots of films now to watch.  While this was going on (all a bit password heavy for me) I popped to Morrisons. There were

Felt really happy this morning. We got up early on a sunny day, and had breakfast and after a bit of gardening and other bits, climbed up South Hill Road with Lorraine, to the Barn and then down to the Coastguard Cottages at Hope Gap. We saw two exhibitions there, one with Palo Almond's work in it, and the other a smaller collection mainly done by people whose family were associated with that house. A gorgeous day to begin with, Spitfires flying overhead at one point as we were walking down to get the view of Seven Sisters but suddenly cooling a bit and looking cloudy. Had a chat with Palo, who I sent an email to later, with a poem sparked by her paintings.   Then we skirted the coast for a bit, before walking away from the coast up a little wooded valley, which was beautiful and took us back to the Barn again. I am gradually exploring Seaford head in my own weird way. Lorraine loved it there, and we noticed loads of sloes there which might be amazing for some sloe gin. While we we

Lorraine went for a meditation walk this morning and had a bit of a day of recovery from doing lots of driving yesterday. I did some writing this morning and went to the gym in the afternoon.  At five thirty Lorraine and I went to the Old Boot Inn, and met Steve, who had his pal Freya, an old pal from his Berlin days, with him. Freya on holiday from Sacramento, and we both liked her. She was surprised I had been to Sacramento, and I told her a bit about Toby's adventures.  Lorraine and I mooched off to the Barn theatre to watch The Whale  -- a film with its stage roots clearly visible. The action almost entirely confined to the obese lead character's apartment. A profoundly miserable film, and very theatrical in its dialogue and little climaxes. Memorable certainly, and a fabulous performance from Hong Chau. But I was tempted to leave at one point, which is not a thought I have often in the cinema.  Nevertheless it was good to be watching a film in the local cinema.  Walked hom

Fond farewells with Pat and Maureen, who went back to Ashford. Lorraine took them first to Battle where they had some lunch and Maureen bought some special woola special wool and make sure it was the right sort of four ply cotton.  I meanwhile did bits of my own work. Mid afternoon, I found myself straying onto Ancestry.com on a free trial. It was there I learned that my biological father John had died in February 2017 at the comparatively tender age of 76. Not sure what to make of this -- obviously as I had no kind of relationship with him, it wasn't a particularly emotional experience, but nevertheless something, especially as I have been writing about the unreliable nature of early memory lately and so have been thinking lots about my first few years, in which he appears mainly as an absence. My main thoughts were selfish ones: I wish he'd lived longer as evidence of magnificent genes. And also ruing the idea that call from the mystery solicitor mentioning a large legacy wil

A secret trip today, Lorraine drove us off to Sheffield Park where we caught the bluebell railway as a late celebration of Pat’s birthday.   A strange world. The uncanniness of a station crawling with immaculately uniformed staff, elaborate station messages, warning you that a train was creeping into the station. Men, of course, but lots of women too.  We were there in plenty of time, so Lorraine, Pat and I made our way into a shed full of engines, which were being minutely observed by train lovers.  We boarded our train and squeezed around a table, and served by several cheery staff, two women and a man, who brought us pots of tea, and a stand of sandwiches cut in oblongs, and lots of little cakes, such as macaroons, and mini-eclairs and shortbread and fruit tarts and so on, plus there were two scones with cream and plum jam. I particularly enjoyed the scones.  Pat and Maureen having fun, against a backdrop of the green Sussex countryside chugging by. Also passed a station sign readin

A bit of my own writing this morning. Having opted not to infect Mum and Mas with Pat and Maureen's bug, everyone of course was brighter, and the sniffles I'd sniffed last night turned into nothing. In fact everyone recovered enough that Lorraine took Pat and Maureen to the local mobility shop, where they bought some reclining chairs specially designed for older people's comfort.   I took myself for a long walk this afternoon, and made progress on being able to climb Seaford head. Walking south down Chyngton Lane, and up South Hill road to the barn. As I was walking along the unmade road of Chyngton Lane I had to keep stepping off as I was being passed by cars laden with funeral goers attending a wake.  I mooched up South Hill Road and up to the top and walked down to take a few snaps of the Seven Sisters, and then made my way to the seafront. A decent walk and am gradually overcoming my open spaces neurosis on Seaford Head. Walking there by the Martello Tower, Lorraine cal

Up at seven thirty, and sent a few emails, and then pulled back the sequence of seven poems -- going back to the version before last which had a lot more life.  I caught a snatch of Antiques Roadshow on TV last night, and they briefly featured an interview with Ralph Steadman the cartoonist, talking about how he draws in ink without pencilling, and his how his ink blots and splashes adds life to his pictures. Reflecting on this this morning, it confirmed my fears that I'd over tidied. As soon as I reincorporated some of the quirks from the earlier drafts and the poems sprang back to life again. Why is it I have to keep learning the same lessons again and again.  Wrote for a few hours, before brunch. Lorraine and Maureen off shopping at Marks and Sparks and meeting Betty briefly for lunch. I sat with Pat and rewatched most of Guardians of the Galaxy , which is enormous fun. Then we started watching the second Avatar film, which was dumb as nuts. To the gym, when Maureen and Lorraine

Really hot again this morning. Thunder this evening across the country, and the temperature dropped but it skilfully avoiding us here sadly. Lorraine somewhat recovered from falling over yesterday. I felt far perkier too. Pat and Maureen still suffering with a bit of a cold. Nevertheless a cheery enough day, and they came with us to the bottom of the garden, and in the greenhouse. Maureen picking basil leaves for pesto from lots of basil plants, and also picking off assorted creatures such as small snails, etc. which she enjoyed..  In the evening spoke to Mum to arranging a trip to the Jolly Badger pn Tuesday, and Toby, now safely back in Toronto having just returned from seeing Joan and Dick.  Below Pat and Maureen with Lorraine in the glasshouse. Egg sized aubergines loving the heatwave, and growing almost visibly.

Breakfast with Pat and Maureen, who have colds. The heatwave continues, and maybe it was this that was making me feel a bit drained too.  This afternoon Lorraine drove me off to Seafield Close to meet Beth and James, and James's brother Lorenzo to have another look around the house they've had their offer accepted on. Joe, their estate agent, Lorraine and I had met last year. A nice young guy who looked to me like a First World War poet. The house is compact and characterful and opens out into an excellent conservatory, leading to the most fabulous garden. This is also a cabin in it which can be used as an office. They're all kinds of zones: a patio, lawn, and a wilder bit with trees. There is also a koi pond with half a dozen hefty fish in there.  Keeping my fingers crossed now that their offer has been accepted.  We all returned home, to lurk in the garden with Pat and Maureen and have a bit of family time. Then they zoomed off, as they were about to join in a surprise bi

A hot night, in this unseasonal heatwave, and we slept with the windows open. Something buzzing around my head in the night, probably a moth. We got up for an early breakfast, before working more on the seven poems, and Lorraine made ready to drive off to Ashford to collect Pat and Maureen to come to stay.  I broke off for an iced coffee and gossip with Yvonne at 11 sitting outside the Grumpy Chef for an hour, felt a hand on my back, and Jane passed to say hello. Glimpsed what I thought was a large clown out of the corner of my eye, turns out it was a tall older woman wearing a long white dress with splashes of primary colour on it.  Home a salad lunch and trying to to hone the poems without losing their spontaneity and life. Then to the gym again. As yesterday, pleasant to lurk in the cool of the air-conditioned room, and unlike yesterday there were not muscular schoolboys swarming on the weights. I trundled on the cross trainer listening to The Rest Is Politics.   These days my polit

A sweltering day. Up fairly early and excitedly working on my new sequence of seven poems. Then a flying visit to  Strand on the Green this afternoon, working on poems on the way up, and chugging via Clapham through many old haunts. Made it to the Dentist with 15 seconds to spare. As usual, little to be done, but a bit of scraping and polishing. My last ever appointment with Lucinda, who retires in December after looking after my gnashers for 30 years. In a small way an end of an era, and I thanked her for her calmness, and efficiency. I have been very lucky. It makes sense to find a dentist locally if I can. Travelling hours for one is a bit mad, now it will be someone new anyway. Home and off to Morrisons to buy a few provisions. Lorraine's cooking a chickpea and mushroom curry. Delicious. I think my taste buds are changing. I am genuinely enjoying the food we are eating in the aftermath of the Zoe business. I love being at home.

Up early and Brian called round for me at 8:15 this morning, and we drove off to Friston Forest for an hour's walk. Brian, hardy soul, had already been for swim before he collected me. A lovely walk through the trees, with Marley the dog racing ahead and back again, and pleading with Brian to throw sticks for her.  Always a profoundly interesting conversation with Brian. We tree bathed in the beech forest, and talked about kindness, and responsibilities. Brian said I was a calm person, which I liked as I think of myself as a bit of a hysteric. We looked down at valley Brian told me was called Charleston Bottom. Beautiful sight, and suddenly dozens of birds in the sky over one of the far fields -- herring gulls and starlings and crows, and amid them a bird of prey, too far away for me to identify it, but obviously causing the commotion. Home and worked more on the seven new poems. Then joined in the frenzy of housework day. Members of Lorraine's book group were coming around. I

A Mondayish feel as I had to get up fairly early to prep for a podcast interview with Ian McMillan, who is a BBC Radio 3 presenter of The Verb as well as having the freedom of Barnsley. I listened to The Verb beforehand, and it didn't really help as it is really well put together.  Ian was a natural raconteur and took it all in his stride. A bit of a heart sinking moment when we connected and I couldn't hear him at all. Once he pulled his rubbish earphones out we were golden. Felt like I had done a day's work by noon.  Lorraine slowly improving, and cooking and doing some light pottering in the garden. 

The heat is back, a hot sunny Sunday drying the clothes on the line in no time.  We had to miss seeing Dawn and Paul as Lorraine still unwell, although improving.  Read some more of Essays in Idleness by Kenko, and then had, appropriately enough, to doze. Harvested tomatoes, cucumbers, a courgette, and chilli and padrone peppers. Loving being able to bring in bowl full of home grown. Our leeks, celeriac, onions and so on all looking great too. Lorraine rallied to cook excellent Dahl and saag aloo. Mum in good spirits. They had been to the Waggon and Horses. I shall travel up again soon.   Catching up with Match of the Day this evening. Chelsea are shocking at the moment, having spent over a billion pounds on players, an expensive new manager and they lost at home to Nottingham Forest.   Below tomatoes in our greenhouse  

Lorraine unwell this morning, feeling drained and achey.  I was okay, although a bit lifeless. Did some shopping this morning, and making sure Lorraine was okay. Called Anton to make sure he was okay for me to come, and he said he was feeling a bit rough too, so not to worry.  So in the afternoon, I made off to Anton's house and with Anne, we taxied to The Connaught in Hove. Oskar and his girlfriend Niamh, who I liked a lot, and found an intelligent, thoughtful girl, studying design. Oskar has changed again. His hair is darker, and his voice deeper. Klaudia arrived slightly later with Anna. Klaudia fresh from all kinds of travels this summer. Thailand her favourite it seems. Nice to catch up with Anna too. I tried my best to eat reasonably to my new principals, and enjoyed a Caesar Salad. Then back to Anton's for presents and cake, and some sparkling wine. Lorraine and I had got him a print of the Seven Sisters, which he has been on lots in preparation for his Camino walks. I h

A few hours of writing, and then cheery house and garden stuff. In the afternoon we slipped out briefly to do a little shopping. As I closed the door I realised that I had no keys, nor did Lorraine.  The only person with a key was Beth who was working at home in Southwick. First thought was to train over to them, but there was a train strike.  So after posting a card to Bob, whose birthday it is tomorrow, we went to the Boot and sat in the outside space there, and then after having sipped a single pint of Fanny Ebbs, a thirst quenching summer ale. But soon, a plan having been made, we made off to the supermarket and the then lurked in the garden, doing a bit of work before Beth and James arrived, having conceived a desire for fish and chips en route. I went off to Trawlers.  Lorraine and I doing Pat and Maureen's trick of sharing a portion, and actually with lots of beans it was fine. Lots to chat about,  as Beth and James are really excited, having had their offer accepted on the