Boiling in the barbers

I spent the morning writing in a blur of productivity. I am feeling really happy with it all at the moment. Spent time with Lorraine in the studio, where she was doing pottery, but all the pots ended up being squished. 

Off to Brighton this afternoon. Getting on the train at Seaford, I bumped into Adrian and Laura. Had a nice chat with them. Adrian asked me if my teeshirt was a fashion thing. No it was inside out. Later I put on my bifocals, and they simply collapsed with the lens and screw popping out. Luckily I found it.

A  spot of shopping, and then a cheeky haircut. My teeshirt soaking with sweat after sitting under the little nylon cape, and on a leather chair for almost an hour. Tracy labouring in the heat, and some bloke back from Australia after splitting from his wife who wouldn't stop talking to him meant it all took much longer. 

Home to change my teeshirt, and see Lorraine, who'd collected Enzo from nursery. The little boy very coldy. Beth and James were celebrating their sixth anniversary. Like someone out of the nineteen fifties, I left Lorranie to it, and went off to the pub. Andy there with her parents Mavis and John, who were very pleasant. We were soon joined by Mandy, whose photo of the eclipse was featured on the local BBC, and Adele and Patrick, and Delores who came later. A pleasant evening. Patrick talking with great enthusiasm about Music to a very interested John.

Home, and Lorraine had struggled getting Enzo off to sleep in the heat, and even had to take him for a drive. It was damnably hot in our bedroom, and we moved the fan so that it would keep Enzo cooler too. This heat makes you feel broken sometimes.

Below, looking at some old drawings, this was done on a zoom call type of sketch class, where people pose for the length of a song, and it has something I think.