Back to Seaford

Up fairly early. I have been having bad dreams, general assorted catastrophes. Just before I woke up I dreamed I had been having an affair. I woke up thinking oh God, what have I done? An immense flood of relief when I realised it was only a dream.

Breakfast and teas and coffees with Mum. Neither of us terribly chatty. Mum receiving nice notes from Brad. I will write to him over the weekend, all being well. I am returning to see Mum next Thursday evening, but left her with instructions to call me at any time. Also a list of all the stuff we are doing, and where we are with it. 

I feel tired and drained and left mum at about 11.30 am, bumping into Ben outside. A chat with him, then he went in to seem Mum, while I walked to Edgware and caught a bus to Mill Hill Broadway. In great contrast to last Friday, when I trained back to Seaford, the trains were excellent today, and the journey home passed in a blur.

Nice to see the sea again, and felt cheery as my train pulled into Seaford station. Walked home and had a cup of tea with Lorraine, stroked the cats, had a shower and generally hung out. Called Mum who had seen several people today. 

We pushed out for a quick beer at the Boot, meeting Steve there. Lorraine had slow cooked, and invited Steve back for some food. I was not the best company, being a bit braindead, and Steve left after an hour. I opened an envelope addressed to me and it contained a copy of Dreich Magazine with four of my poems in it: X-Ray Style, Homesick, Eat this Poem, and The Olde Majority Inn.

Text from Callum confirming a rumour that Will had a massive stroke, a few weeks ago. I apologised for not being in touch, being wound up in my own dramas. Apparently Callum said he was talking last time he saw him, and among other things, they chatted about having seen my reading in Lewes. Callum wanted to know if I fancied visiting him. I will do so.

Very tired and emotionally drained tonight, and sloped off to bed fairly early, very happy to be at home with Lorraine. 

Below a cover of one of Mum's cushions that follows you with its eyes.