Falling into place

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, and I scarfed these and we listened to some tunes and generally hung out enjoyably. Lorraine collected me, and we drove home together to Seaford. A lovely day all in all.

Below Lorraine jetting water at the glass, and Anton's dough just before he started making the pizzas.