under another sun

Up early this morning, and when mum got up I made coffee with oat milk, and avocado toast.  Then, after a certain amount of faffing off on a 142 down to Burnt Oak to go to WH Putnam funeral directors. We were early and had coffee in a Portuguese deli next door but one. Mum after tasting the coffee and pulling a face suggested they were drumming up business for the undertakers. Soon we were with a fast talking woman called Paula, with slightly surprised eyebrow lines, who we'd met yesterday. We booked Mason's cremation for 13 March at 1:30 in the small chapel at Golders Green Crematorium. Stressful business making the decisions, but it was good to get it nailed down. Funerals are not cheap.  Home again for a cup of tea. An older Irish neighbour that Mum did not really know called asking for Ben's phone number. Mum told her that she had lost her husband on Sunday, and the woman replied, 'and the weather's been terrible too.   To The Wagon and Horses where a pleasant g

I walked up to the garage Tescos at the top of Stonegrove, first thing to buy some coffee speaking to Lorraine there and back. Then breakfast, and a shower and getting to grips with funeral directors. I had the brilliant idea of calling Carl because of course he knows all the stuff backwards, and we had a three way chat. Turns out the Undertakers that had been recommended by a neighbour, and has strong reviews online, was one Carl had once used.  Greatly reassuring to talk him through where we were to sense check everything. Carl making Mum laugh telling her to get the Carl Basket ready for a visit. The Carl Basket was a big wicker basket filled with pillows and a sleeping bag for use when Carl spent the night.   After a judicious shower, Mum and I caught a bus to Burnt Oak, and spoke to the undertakers. We have an appointment tomorrow at 11, but I got the impression that as we have an interim death certificate, we may be able to go ahead with the funeral.  Mum had a kind and thoughtfu

Spent the morning writing lists and emailing people, and phoning people. Kafkaesque and frustrating. You can't appear to do much before you have the Death Certificate. Tried fill in the Tell Us Once site, as another Government website told me you could do this. It lied. Spoke to a very unhelpful person at the registrars, a person at the Tell Us Once service, who said we had to write to the Coroners office about access to Tell Us Once. Surprised to get a reply fairly quickly, part of the text was visible in the preview pane, but when you clicked on the message the text was invisible. I tried it on two devices and on my mail provider. Eventually I was able to read it by stretching the preview pane till twice the width of the screen. It said contact the registrar.  We went to The Wagon and Horses this afternoon. Mum keen to go there and break the news to the regulars. People were so sweet. Blokes at the bar hugging mum and kissing mum, and saying she must always come and she could sit

Slept fitfully on the sofa last night. Not had enough sleep lately. While we were waiting for news from the Coroner I took to cleaning. I cleaned the floor, and the fridge and the cupboard under the sink and so on. Also hoovered upstairs, and cleaned parts of Mason's study. Mum stripped Mason's bed and put on new bedding for me to use. Mum of course still struggling to come to terms with what's going on. It's such a change in her life. I'm trying to support her as best I can. I feel waves of sadness for her.   Mum called by a woman from the coroners who followed up with emails. She sent us a Coroner's Certificate of the Fact of Death, aka an Interim Death Certificate. What you can do with this is was unclear from the letter. The fact he died alone at home, mum having popped out to the shops, means that there will have to be an inquest and a Death Certificate will be issued at some point in the future. In the evening Mum and I drank more wine and sat by the fire

Awake and up at seven, somewhat hungover. The doorbell was somehow shorting, and there was a smell of burnt plastic permeating the house. Brian miaowing plaintively from the Dining room, how he got there a mystery. Luckily he had not fouled the room. Seagulls were ransacking a bag of rubbish outside the back of the house and had had already distributed a bins worth of waste across the garden. Blearily tidied the kitchen and garden, and took breakfast up for Lorraine and then had a hobbits second snooze and we began planning to go to Eastbourne to see Nick and Robin perform in a concert. Then the landline rang, and Mum told me that Mason had died. He had fallen over in the kitchen when she had popped out for some shopping. I felt distinctly shocked. Lorraine helped me pack and drove us up to Edgware. Spoke to Toby and mum several times in the car as the paramedics, and the police came. Neighbours such as Ben, and  Maheena and her husband, and when we arrived Wynford and his wife were th

Lorraine and I spent all day running about preparing for our party. Lorraine cooking huge amounts of sausage rolls, cheese straws and other snackable delights.  Toby called shortly before the party started from Washington.  About 40 people showed up. I had the image of bags of aquarium fish all being emptied into the same tank. Luckily everyone got on.  Beth and James and Julie and her new bf Andy, there were poets, Charlotte, SJB, Robin and Nick and Jeremy and Alexandra. Book group folks and all our new Seaford pals Steve, and several of his friends, Brian and Yvonne and Patrick and Adele and Delores, who told us she had wonderful time after struggling with bereavements lately. Peter Hoibak representing old school pals, came with his excellent wife Julie that Lorraine and I took to immediately. Old pals Dawn, and Paul, Jess and Andrew. Even Brian and Calliope spent time being friendly people cats. I have been feeling a bit stressed lately, and felt stressed by the party beforehand, bu

Feeling tired. Finished my freelance job and sent it off to Paris. Then cut my desktop to fit the space with a circular saw. But we made a mistake and it didn't cut it quite to size. In trying to drop it into place, scratched off some of the new paint we had applied this week. All a bit galling and frustrating. Picked up by Adele and Patrick, and went off to the Con Club in Lewes this evening where Steve's band The Sumerian Kyngs were playing, along with two other acts, and ending with The Southern Slamdoor Band. Kyngs on good form, and have been taken to a strange dark place by their new lead singer. Steve impressive on his sax. I had a thoroughly good time there, but trying to be restrained as we had our party tomorrow. Enjoying Patrick talking knowingly to people about their guitars and so on. Steve lurking saxophonically in the purple shadows.

Up early and working on the job for mes amis in Paris on Pet Health for most of the day. Also found out from Marilyn, one of the poets I met on Charlotte's Understory Conversation yesterday, contacted me to say she had been told she is going to be in the Mariscat Sampler, with me. A coincidence. I have not heard anything directly from the publisher however.

The pesky wifi stopped working shortly before I was due to start an online course. Plunged into the rain trying the library (closed) pubs (full) cafes (likewise or too small) and eventually had the idea of routing my laptop through my phone at home. Lorraine had called Patrick who very kindly said he knew what was up with the wifi (Lorraine having opened a telecoms box) came around with a special tool and sorted us out.  So I was able to attend the first of a series of three poetic sessions called the Understory Conversation with Charlotte leading the group. An absorbing couple of hours. Then did a bit of touching up the paintwork in the study. Nice to be quietly home tonight after the prog rock wizardry of the night before.

Simply got out of bed the wrong way. Up early and decorating. Feeling irritable. A couple of days ago Lorraine opened a small box in the study, which was something to do with the phone and wifi. Since then the wifi patchy. Agreed a small freelance job for Mes Amis in Paris to start tomorrow.  In the evening, Lorraine and I went to Seaford Station where we met Adele and Patrick, having found out over the weekend that they were going to see Rick Wakeman too.  A quick chip based snack in Brighton, and then onto the Dome.  A funny show, Wakeman his usual jokey self. Turns out Patrick knows him too. The first half of the show, called The Return of The Caped Crusader, featured versions of Yes songs. A singer called Molly Marriot sang Jon Anderson's parts and there were a trio of supporting singers who sang backup but also a few arranged parts rather well. There was a second keyboardist, Adam Wakeman who is Rick's son, and a very accomplished keyboards player. A bit disconcerting, the

Lorraine and I off to Brighton to call in for lunch with Catherine and Tanya. The familiar climb up muesli mountain to Hanover. Lurked outside the wrong house for a bit, till we remembered what number their new one was. After admiring the new bookcases, where Tanya has finally unpacked her library, a lovely chat with them both. Tanya talking about the free-flowing writing she is doing in the morning, as well as the meditation she does and running her indexing business. Catherine also writing a new professional book as well as online coaching for doctorate students. We went downstairs for lunch, a lovely vegetable curry, and poppadoms and home made chutneys of pineapple, Jerusalem artichoke and a beetroot raita. Admired the framed sheet music for a musichall song called Do Shrimps Make Good Mothers . Catherine told us the story of a novel called The Blood of the Vampire by Frances Marryat -- which has made me want to read it. A lovely afternoon, and Lorraine and I sloped down to the st

Lorraine and I zooming about this morning. Off to Lidl to buy food and so on. Also we went into B&Q to buy undercoat for my study and look around at husky stuff like work benches and nail guns. Home again and Beth and James popped around having had another look around the property they are buying. They are fond of their estate agent called Joe, one Lorraine and I met too who I thought looked like a First World War poet. James told me that he had told Joe hey would name one of the koi after him, which I liked.  They made off, and Lorraine cooked some chicken pies, then Patrick and Adele came around in the afternoon and we had another Shakespeare session, this time reading through As You Like . I had speed read it when at university, but had little recall of it. Funny, and some astonishingly language.  Everyone throwing themselves into reading. Patrick's parts included some song singing, which he sang brilliantly of course, appearing to make up the tunes on the spot.  Also liste

Beth's old pal Laura with her partner Braheem called around for lunch, bringing their baby daughter Layla with them. I've not too much experience with babies, but Layla was an excellent one and doesn't look like Winston Churchill, which is good. Nice to see Laura, who is one of Beth's oldest besties, and Braheem who I've only met a few times but I really like him and how absolutely besotted with his daughter he was too.  Otherwise not too much to report. A quiet night in.  Below Laura with Layla, and Lorraine took one of me holding the baby.

Valentine's Day. Got up and brought Lorraine a cup of tea and gave her a valentine's card and I got one a little later. Had breakfast together, Lorraine off to the Library to do Rhyme Time with lots of toddlers.  I received an actual letter from a press that I had entered a competition with, asking if I was interested in appearing in a sampler with two other poets. A bit of a result, although I sense-checked it with Robin later in the day who helped me feel good about it. A curious thing whenever I get some success in poetry, I compare it with where I think I should be and feel a failure. Made a real effort to reframe this today, and not do this to myself. Instead I welcomed a small success as a small success.   Then working in the guest room -- my temporary office -- for most of the day doing a job about cat diabetes for Val. Nice to send the work off and be told that it's wonderful and exactly what was wanted. My favourite client.  More scuffling about in my study for a b

Lorraine home this morning.  Up and breakfast, and toying with a poem first thing, called Viagra from Vancouver , a true story based on getting a spam from Gwen (my Grandmother's name) offering me cheap viagra from Vancouver. Discovered I had left the utility room ajar last night, and Brian saw the opportunity to have a dry poo behind the waste bin. Very cross, and it was an opportunist poo, as he hasn't done it for days. Then a bout of tidying. We then started sorting out my study, migrating stuff into the guest room. By the end of the day, I had dissembled my desk, and with Lorraine's help all the shelving was off the wall. Many of the screws were ridiculously deep and had been glued in situ. We peeled off most of the top layer of wallpaper. There is quite a bit to be done, but it is good to start and Lorraine had an idea about putting in wood panelling over part of the wall, as it is a damp cold corner. I was contacted by Val and am doing a spot of work for her tomorrow.

A day of solitude, which I enjoyed. Working in the kitchen with the cats this morning, then off to the gym just after lunch. An enjoyable session. Getting mum to provide information about her parking tickets so I can appeal. The computer has already said no, but it's worth a go. Filled out the forms on the website but this crashed six times in a row on the same section. There was also an option to write to them, so I printed it all off.  Lorraine home at 10 am after doing lots with Pat and Maureen. Happy to have her back safely. Still struggling with Brian and my attempt to train him to go outside to the toilet. He does when I am watching him, but when he is left to his own civics he will pee in one of two places. It makes me furious. I found he had peed in the living room just as we were going to bed. 

Breakfast with Pat and Maureen. Maureen deciding she wanted to go on a cruise. Then to the supermarket, a spot of gardening with Lorraine preparing a part of the garden for the wildlife ponds. Dragging the garden waste bin out to the front, a Spitfire flew overhead. A Sunday roast, then Lorraine drove Pat and Maureen back to Ashford by Lorraine. Left alone with the cats, the house seemed pleasantly quiet. Spoke to Mum. Then sank into the quiet like it was a comfortable armchair. Read a little, watched a bit of  Family Gu y and the last half an hour of the African Nations football final. Ivory Coast beating Nigeria. Chatting with Lorraine over the phone before bed. 

Lorraine and I up early as a fence man (already thinking of him as the minister of defence) came to have a look at the job to fix our fence with Joy and Jim. A pleasant bloke. Joy was there talking through the hoe in the fence, saying her rose bush was the only thing holding it up. The fence man said it was good we got on. Nearby there were two neighbours in their 70s literally coming to blows when he did a job recently. Both men had the same name.  Then breakfast, with Pat and Maureen, and a day of assorted family members. Beth and James arrived, as there a bed frame was delivered here for them this morning. The move is within touching distance. James worried about it, and the floorboards that still need to be fixed at their flat.  Later, Ken, Lorraine's brother, arrived, and spent a few hours with us and Pat and Maureen. Lorraine showing him around and they lurked in the garden discussing ponds and potato growing bags. He left on the long drive to catch the ferry to Ireland.   A

Up and writing poems at the kitchen table on my laptop. Enjoyable. I'm not sure where they fall at the moment. Lorraine doing story time in the Library this morning. I also had a nice chat with Pat and Maureen.  Feeling a bit antsy and sleepy this afternoon and went for a short walk to wake myself up, and I was feeling sluggish this afternoon. Off this evening in the car to the Welly where Lorraine dropped me off with Pat and Maureen, where we had a table booked for fish and chip suppers. We met Adele, Patrick and Steve. Enjoyed some food and a few beers. Maureen telling everyone about her life as a child, curiously spellbinding: her father's return from the war a changed man, and then his accident, he worked as an asphalter and falling under the big flattening wheel breaking his legs, and his refusal to go to hospital even though Maureen could see his bones.  Good to see Patrick and Adele. Lorraine took Pat and Maureen home and I stayed for a bit longer with the others. Intere

Raining most of the day. Up early, a fast breakfast, and made a flask of coffee and headed off to Seaford Station. By chance, met Dutch Mike on the platform, and we chatted all the way up to Gatwick, where he got off to fly home to Haarlem.   From Elstree station, and a stroll in the thankfully light rain to The Waggon and Horses. Mum and Mas already there, but the pub empty, and the cooker not working in the kitchen for a while. Mason wanted nibbles and we were given a plate of olives and those big mild pickled chillies, unusual foods to wash down with a Guinness. However normal service was resumed, and we ate some cooked food (grilled Halloumi and falafel for me). The pub also filled up lots towards the end. The man with two dogs arrived, and I thanked him for phoning Barnet about the parking spot outside her house. He advised me to keep an eye out for the parking fines they had accrued erroneously. Mum and Mas in fairly good spirits, and I left them there and made my way back to the

Up early and tweaking the podcast and sending it back to Robin -- and we got the episode done. Meanwhile Lorraine off to do Rhyme Time with small children. Off this afternoon to the gym. Felt better for it. A quiet gold sofa-ish evening in with Pat and Maureen. A chat with Mum to confirm me zooming up the Elstree tomorrow -- barring a meteor strike.

Up early and preparing, then recording with Robin. Had lunch and felt very tired still, and my eyes a bit photosensitive. Decided to pop up for a nap, and woke up two hours later, feeling generally repaired.  In fact I rebooted the day... Lorraine and I off to The Old Boot Inn to celebrate Steve's birthday. He was there with his pal Mike from  the Netherlands. We had a couple of beers and strapped on the nosebag in the pub. I had a very decent chicken salad. We were joined later by his pal Gilbert -- a former lodger of Steve's back in his Brighton days, from Cameroon and a lovely bloke who now lives in Seaford. Then we were joined by Steve's pals Russell and Alison. A cheery evening. Lorraine left a bit earlier than me, to prepare for Rhyme Time tomorrow, and to be with Pat and Maureen. Home at a sensible time, with my top hat on fairly straight and true to watch a couple of episodes of Family Guy . Brian a trial at the moment. He is taking sneaky wees and the occasional po

So woke up to the beginning of spangly migraine. Fell back asleep for half an hour then after the light show was over, got up, rushed off to catch the train to see Mum and Mas.  As I was sipping a cup of tea from the flask, I realised I had left my phone at home. Asked to produce railcard almost immediately. On my phone, but I talked my way out of it despite looking at the sign that said  No Railcard? No Excuse. And mentioning a fine of up to £1000. By the time I reached Lewes, I was feeling a bit shaky and the light was hurting my eyes. As I climbed the stairs from the platform I decided to cut my losses - and turn around and postpone my trip till later in the week.   Back home, Lorraine getting ready to set off for Pat and Maureen. I phoned Mum and I sat about feeling wussy and listened to an audiobook by Kenzaburo Oe called A Personal Matter . Somewhat frustrating: I wanted to do lots of reading today but my eyes hurt.   Meanwhile Lorraine called me to say she was going to bring Ma

Up early and a fast breakfast before recording with Robin, and generally having a good chat about the podcast. Beth off this morning too. Then went outside to do some gardening with Lorraine, ended up moving lots of big pebbles the previous owners had strewn on top of a flour bed an hour or so. Then a highly relaxed afternoon with Lorraine, me reading Janet Sutherland's latest book The Messenger House . Spoke to mum to confirm I am coming up tomorrow.  Lorraine and I watched Death in Paradise, the harmless fun returned for its 100th episode. Baffling why  we enjoy it so much. But the formula of Caribbean scenery, mild mannered murders, predictability, and general coziness were priceless during lockdown, and still enjoyable now. Watched match of the day this evening. Chelsea took a mauling from a mediocre Wolves team. Open mutiny in the crowd. Everything is wrong. The manager seems clueless, the new club owner has presided over a period of chaos, and the team look are playing like

Beth here this afternoon James off on a stag weekend, which he had to organise. Lorraine and Beth lurking in Seaford shops and a cafe. I went off to lurk in the gym. When I got home, Beth and Lorraine were playing a game using the TV screen called My Time at Sandrock, bimbling (a Beth word) about building things in a desert landscape with some odd characters. Those type of games just seem like work to me. You have lots of problems to solve.  In the evening we went off to Spice Village, but it was too full so we repaired to the Bengal Palace, and had a nice time there, poppadoms and a couple of cold Cobra beers. But I by far prefer the food in the Spice Village. Both of us loved spending time with Beth, if all the stars align she and James will be Seaford residents in March. 

A splendid morning. My two poetry collections suddenly clicking into place. Felt a rare feeling of elation, clarity and faith in myself. Lorraine busy outside in the sun. I popped out a bit to be with her. She was jet washing the greenhouse, and having lots of fun doing so. In the afternoon Lorraine went off to see Rosie and I caught the train to see Anton. We met in the Evening Star in Brighton, and drank glassblower's lager, and played several games of bones and caught up a bit. First drink that Anton had (apart from one day at Stav's funeral) this year. I was not manhandled off the premises, which was nice and generally enjoyed being there. They were playing music over the PA. I don't remember this before. It was nice music, but all old stuff. Where are the young 'uns listening to unlistenable new fangled music? It's as if pub culture has always been targeted to people of my sort of age, and is aging with us. Back up the hill and Anton cooked his delicious pizzas