A coffee in Newhaven

Lorraine hopped off to the Library to deliver Rhyme Time. I hopped onto a bus to Tide Mills and walked along the off road cycle path for half an hour to Mamoosh, where I met Stephen Bone for a coffee. He looked well, though has his hands full as a full time carer. Chatted about everything from hypochondria to writing, the forest of pathetic half mast flags around Denton Corner. He gave me a handsomely reprinted copy of In The Cinema, with three quotes on the back, from Tom Compton, Robin and one from me.  

Fond farewells with Stephen, and we shall meet again soon. Hopped on a bus and got off at Hill Rise and walked home a lengthy route from there, listening to Jeeves stories. 

A reading afternoon. As writing seems a bit tricky at the moment. I finished Zygmunt Bauman's Liquid Times then Bluets by Maggie Nelson. After a promising chapter or two Bauman's book, written in that achingly tedious style favoured by academics, made one or two obvious points. So it's a meh from me. I am constantly amazed by people who build entire careers on an idea that could be written on the back of a fag packet. I am being unfair. Perhaps it says more about me.

Bluets had its moments, and was obviously was much better written. A sort of meditation on blue, underpinned by a research and a the writer's broken heart, mentions of Joni Mitchell and Joan Mitchell among others. Emma from the Understory Conversation really rates this book, but it just made me want to reread The White Book by Han Kang again.

Lorraine and I drove off to Morrisons this afternoon. Home as the rain started, and I cooked a rather magnificent stir fry. All good. A happy evening, sitting with Lorraine on the Gold Sofa.

Below glances from the cycle path, and flags. There is a little estate up the hill, and there were at least a dozen more there. A handy indicator of where to avoid.