under another sun

Got out of the wrong side of the bed today, unable to focus on work for some reason, and so increasingly tetchy as the day wore on.  Anton came around for a cup of coffee and to collect a pressie for Oskar, who was not feeling well. Spoke to Mum whose landline wasn't working and I managed to get in touch with someone in India and after an hour or so managed to sort this. Went for a short walk, which seemed to help a bit. Otherwise, a proper rainy Monday in January. Surprised to find out that Jacob Polley won the TSEs this year. But good on him.

A stress festival. Up early with Lorraine having to drag the six foot square bookcase outside, so the carpet could be laid. Then to work, as there is loads of screamingly urgent work to be done. The carpet people came around, both very pleasant, but lots of noise inevitably, and questions asked and so on. Any progress on my own work was hard-won. The carpet looks great once down, however. Just as they were leaving, a passing neighbour asked if they could have the bookcase, which we have been trying to get rid of. Brilliant. Half killed myself getting it up the road with neighbours and Betty but a result. Beth and I then stepped back into the house to admire the carpet, when Beth noticed a sound like a shower. Actually it was a flood and water was streaming down from Lorraine and my top floor bedroom and dripping off the live lightbulbs. Action stations, and thank goodness Beth was there, who called the emergency plumber while I turned the electricity off and having called Lorraine ...

The Mammoth Odd beach like sensation in bed. Gradually worked out that now that there's a thaw, Calliope is trotting grit into my sheets. All day I have had this image in my head of a mammoth in a glacier. The mammoth stands for progress and my joie de vivre which is resolutely sealed away. It's the January Blues. I hate January. January is scum. The media is full of finger-wagging. An article on the BBC: a sedentary life spent staring at screens will kill you. As this is pretty much all I have done over the last few weeks, and I am morbidly obese, I decided to have a day of moving to stave off an abrupt demise. Had a longish walk by the sea, in nose-pinching cold. The pier almost deserted. A keen wind biting through the rides and stalls, and hardy men mending things out of sight with power tools. The merry-go-round horses stored in a pile under canvas sheets, and above them half a dozen silent seagulls stationary in the sky. Then to my new cafe to work. As I walked in the two...