No beer for Nigels

Writing well this morning, and the satisfaction of feeling I am making real progress. This not at all hampered by Jack the electrician coming and doing some work in the spare room, There will be light over Lorraine's desk when the decorating is done. Nice chat with Anton this morning too. 

Pat and Maureen took refuge here as their new carpet was being laid in their bedroom and hallway. 

In the evening I made off to the Evening Star in Brighton, where I met up with Mark and Peter, first time this year. A really enjoyable evening. After a couple of drinks we ended up in Casa Don Carlos where we had tapas and shared a good bottle of red wine, then to the Bath Arms for an absolute bloody final. Brighton quiet and lifeless, despite it being a rainy Wednesday night in February. Things never quite recovered after Covid. Discussed with Mark the poem he had written, took a good book recommendation from Peter about the Burgess Shale, something I have been interested in for some time.

Arriving at the station, the Seaford train was there, and I sprinted off for it. Soon safely home with Lorraine.

The scene in The Evening Star. I was early. A sticker in the men's loos, and Peter pointing at tiles depicting Don Quixote.