under another sun

A reasonably quiet start, Lorraine bringing me a cup of tea in the morning as usual. This simple act of kindness starts my day off brilliantly.  I scribbled a few bits and pieces of social meeja, and laying out the programme for the show and focused on trying not to twitch too much. Sonia back today. Full of helpful information and as usual had a good laugh with her. Apparently I am not losing weight after going to the gym like a maniac is due to liking for fizzy water. After this I went to the gym. From there, bought some eccles cakes and chocolate and ginger biscuits, then went to see Janet and Ken. Ken certainly enjoys a sweet biscuit. Janet also bearing up, having been to her exercise class this morning having not been out of the house much. Home, and waiting for Lorraine. Decided to take myself to sit outside the Preston Park Tavern in the sun and to wait for Lorraine and Betty. Re-read (enjoyably) some sonnets by Don Paterson from his last book, and eavesdropped on a mi...

A tap on the door at eight and I had forgotten that Cass had come around again to build a few wee shelves in my office, so had to work downstairs. Cass whistling Life on Mars by David Bowie. However off to Chiswick a bit later, quite enjoying a bit of a commute. Managed to pop into Waterstones and using the present of a Waterstones card I'd been given, I bought poetry books by Claudia Rankine, Sarah Howe and Don Patterson. Then into a room to work with Dave the art director on a welcome pack. On the train home I read Don Paterson's  40 Sonnets . Not much time to do anything other than work, or exist under the shadow of work. Interesting things like poems and books and all the other stuff I want to think about seem incredibly vivid and out of reach edge. Beth had cooked a healthy supper as I was late and Lorraine was doing her Pilates.  My new shelves are great. Enjoyed rearranging my study before bed, listening to Station to Station , one of the Bowie albums I liked most...

Up late, after sitting in bed with Lorraine and working on a letter she needs to send out to parents. Then up and my lovely wife cooked a sunday roast chicken for lunch. Then I was collected by Robin and we drove up to the South Bank this afternoon to attend the TS Eliot awards shortlist reading at the South Bank - which is the biggest poetry reading on the year's calendar and features readings from the cream of the crop of last year's poetry publications. Robin's car on its last legs, and about to be replaced by one big enough to take Nick's keyboard, a heavy organ. The motorway blocked by an accident so it took us quite a while to get there. But we'd set out early, so there was plenty of time. A brilliant way to get a snapshot of what's happening in poetry. Most interesting of the eight finalists to me were Claudia Rankine and Sarah Howe. Claudia read a long poem about identity, saying something like we should consider ourselves architects of the personal ...