under another sun

Lorraine has a cold, and I am sore throaty and generally out of sorts with a sluggish brain. Briefly bucked up first thing by having a poem published today in  Black Nore Review  called Viagra from Vancouver . I wrote it after being spammed by someone called Gwen some years ago. When I saw the name Gwen (with no surname) in my inbox I immediately thought of her. Funny how many poems of mine Gwen appears in. She was proud of her individuality, and had a framed quotation that she frequently quoted which, on googling, I discover is the 'Gestalt Prayer' by Fritz Perls, written in 1969. I do my thing and you do your thing. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, And you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you, and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, it's beautiful. If not, it can't be helped. Chatted with Mum this morning, she's okay. Tobs called her yesterday. I am delaying seeing her till later in the week to not give her my cold,...

Up and a few tweaks to the podcast before sending what I had to Robin. Then off to Brighton by train, and went to see Stacy. Stacy under pressure as everyone wants a haircut in time for Christmas. He had also shaved the wizard's hair and beared, I last saw him sporting. He did his usual perfectionists job on me. Then a spot of shopping in Brighton, and spoke to Mum. Home again, and Lorraine out as the OT was visiting Pat.  In my travels today, a note from the editor of Black Nore, accepting one of my lighter poems, called Viagra from Vancouver . It's a true story about getting a spam email from someone called Gwen, my grandmother's name, about buying Viagra from a pharmacy in Vancouver.  Gwen, something of a practical joker, had visited her sister in Vancouver.  I made off to Lewes, the Brewers pub for what I think of as the Poets' Xmas Party. Charlotte, SJB, Robin and Stephen. As I arrived, I bumped into Phil, Innis's mate, last seen at Innis's birthday party i...

A day of cheery busyness: up early with Lorraine and waking Sam up x3 prior to his trip up to Scotland, tweaking the podcast and sending it to Robin for further tweakage. Then billing, timesheets, booking a dental appointment, a teams meeting with Keith and a nice woman called Amber we are working for next week, laundry, gym (baby steps still), talking to Val in Paris and then doing some work for her.  Also had  two poems published in Black Nore Review  and uploaded  the new podcast  episode. Matthew G. Rees new book arrived. I am a bit over-pleased that he quotes me on the back cover.  Carl called me. Lovely chat. Telling me about his poor little dog that was attacked by a savage dog and had to have one of its injured back legs removed. It gets about pretty well on three legs apparently, and is much improved, although Carl said it fell over when trying to cock a leg the other day. One of the things I like most about Carl is how he can laugh at bleakness....

Up early, with a distinct hangover courtesy of Anton, and after a bit of frenzied social meeja about the podcast, made off to Preston Park station, pausing at the daily grind for a cup of tea. Gingerly sipping lots of water as I train hopped to Elstree and Borehamwood station. And from there a brisk walk to the Waggon and 'orses, where I ordered a medicinal Guinness before Mum and Mas arrived shortly after. Mum had reserved a seat near the fire, which hadn't been lit when we got there. Many people got involved in struggling to keep it alight.    Nice chat for a few hours there by the intermittently flickering fire. Mas wandering off as usual to talk to randoms, and Mum and I having a chance to talk. Mas saying he wants to advise the Democrats on how to regain control of their own party.  Mum saying she feels a bit lonely -- which waves of Covid doesn't help. Decent fish and chips at the pub, which Mum and I ate. Mas ordered a chicken Caesar Salad, but said that next time ...