under another sun

By bus to Brighton just after noon. Unusually, it was not pouring with rain. I got off at the Sealife Centre, and walked along the front, enjoying the crashing heavy waves, and the seagulls flocking above the hardy tourists on the pebbles.  I cut up to The Hole In the Wall, the hidden local's pub Anton and I have managed to overlook over the years. Met Anton for a leisurely afternoon, setting the world to rights over several beers and a couple of games of dominoes. The woman behind the bar was wearing a teeshirt with skeletons on it, and I asked her about it, and she replied a bit warily as if I was trying to chat her up. As I payed for the beer I found myself saying, 'I like skeletons', confirming all her worst suspicions of me.      We moved on to another pub, then to The Hampton where we ate some Indian street food, and played another game of bones, at which I beat Anton like a ginger stepchild. Meanwhile I heard about his time with Camino in snowy Spain, and lear...

Insomniac night, and at my desk early this morning, deciding that everything I did would be focused on making money. Hardly had I sent this intention into the cosmos, and I was called to start a job tomorrow in London with a brand new client, a fact which strongly resembles a cool banana as the Kenny coffers are full of tumbleweed and lonely crows at present. This welcome news changed the complexion of the day, and meant that I went to the gym in the afternoon, with Lorraine who achieved a personal best in the amount of lengths she swam today. The gym thronging for a Monday afternoon, I suspect inspired by the Olympics. Read the text of Richard's new collection, now at the printers. Sad and lovely work. Healthy day, eating salads and chicken soup, and shunning boozes of all kinds. Early to bed too, as I will have to be up with the sparrows tomorrow.

Only a churl would have stayed at home sipping tea rather than miss the intense excitement of the Olympic Torch. Rushed out with Lorraine and a sleepy Betty to watch the great event pass about 50 yards from the Old Church Hall. The flame was preceded by a couple of corporate trucks pumping lively music and DJs exhortations to enthusiasm from the sleepy crowd. Then a big van crammed with cameras and the flame carried by a woman, flanked by runners in grey presumably police, passed at about 7:50.The flame was transferred to a man, in a pagan firesex ritual, who loped off towards a thronging Preston Park. Curiously, it wasn't raining, and even I, an Olympic humbugger of the worst sort, saw that its passing had brought smiles to people's faces. Able just to contain my excitement, I went on with my writing interspersed with tea drinking and chatting to Betty, who is making a speedy recovery thanks to the antibiotics. Off late in the afternoon to collect Klaudia and Oskar from their...

Up working on The New Idea for most of the day, and thinking about it in the gym during my workout. Very broadly, the New Idea is about the business of creative concepting. It feels a bit like a copywriting job too, more of a chore that my other writing, but I hope it will be of practical use and therefore be sellable. Sell like piping hot cakes in fact. On my way back from the gym, I got a call from Lorraine excitably lurking in a corridor saying she had an interview for the job she had applied for. Getting an interview with her first application is an excellent achievement and when she came home we had a glass of bubbly to celebrate. I am proud of her. Mum called this afternoon too. Then a stroll around the park after supper for 40 minutes, really nice just to get out. Plants and roses all luxuriant with having had so much water. I find myself watching too much TV these days: mainly The Big Bang Theory, and footie,...

Leaves are the new pies Back to normal today, or at least a simulacrum of normality where my morning coffee is decaf, and lunch is a salad sandwich. In the evening stayed in to watch TV as this is the new going out. Drank sparkling water too, as this is the new beer. Had a swim, with no ill effects. But all in all, I have been feeling curiously calm and chilled, and the hypochondria is abating. Worked for hours and fruitfully on my Skelton Yawngrave story. In the evening Lorraine called around to check I was still alive: and we were both pleased to discover that I was. To celebrate we ate some Guernsey bean jar and watched a reality show with Drum and Bass hero Goldie and Blur's Alex James, among others, attempting to become conductors. Unusually I find myself taking a passing interest in the Olympics. Normally the idea of learning who can, for example, throw a stick a bit further than someone else makes me want to put my head in a blender.