Scalp art

Lorraine unwell, with the shivers and cold symptoms overnight. Made her a hot water bottle and found the wooly Canadian socks that Joan had given me ages ago and put them on her feet. These seemed to make a big difference. In the morning I took Lorraine breakfast in bed, and did my best to look after her today.

Having seen Mum yesterday I began to worry I'd passed this new lurgy on to her. But she was philosophical about it when we spoke. The CBT work I'm doing says there are worries you can do something about and others that you can't. Worrying about things you can't change is futile. A useful  reminder for me. It's funny how the most useful things to be told are often the most blindingly obvious. 

Met Robin online this morning to discuss the next two episodes of Planet Poetry, which will be new ones. I always feel braced and more purposeful after we talk.

Then to Brighton, as the train pulled in I glimpsed John McCullough standing alone on the platform so distinctively dressed he looked as if he were in stage clothes. He is launching a new collection at Waterstones, tonight so perhaps he was extra polished today. I surged on to my appointment, with out walking to the other end of the platform to wish him well, and afterwards thought I had been a bit churlish.  

Getting my hair cut is now quite Japanese in its aesthetic. As much concerned with tending to the absence of hair in the area of concern as the surrounding hair. As I watched the perfectionist Stacy at work, cutting hairs that only he can see I began to think of my scalp as an artwork, a collage of presence and absence. 

Early at the station, so changed at Lewes, and I had a cup of tea and paid an extra £2 for the free tea I had yesterday. The guy in the Runaway cafe was very sincere in thanking me for my honesty, which made me smile a bit.  

Home and I made a strong soup. Lorraine made an excellent base from all the straggly bits left in the garden, so quite a bit of chard, a few small celeriacs, parsley, spring onions, and so on went into the soup base frozen in tupperwear containers.  This base can then be customised, so I blitzed in butter beans and served with grated cheese, and a sprinkling of pumpkin and sunflower seeds on top. Lorraine literally lapped this up. 

In the afternoon did some more work on Kansas, which is now over 7k and I'm now deep into the enjoyable business of tightening and trimming. I like this story. It's is a step outside my comfort zone and enlarges what I write about.

We binge-watched a twisty Lorraine-pleasing series about an enthusiastic serial killer near Loch Ness.

Below a picture of a non space, a corner of Lewes station I was pacing around in trying to add to my steps while waiting for the train. There was once a track where the pebbles are now, I guess.