under another sun

Continuing to feel greatly bucked up, and looking forward to the day when I woke up. After breakfast, I helped Lorraine take an unused cot into the Climate Hub in the rain. Having done this I made off towards Morrisons, only to discern Lorraine yelping from afar as I inexplicably had her car keys in my pocket.  Home and with great care, proofread the six pages of my poems appearing in Poetry Salzburg Review next year. I added a single comma, and Wolfgang the editor had spotted a misspelling in a neologism, which is impressive. All this exactly the sort of thing a gentleman of letters should be doing with his time. I briefly pictured myself as an Edwardian Peter Kenny -- let's say 1908 -- poring keenly over the proofs while puffing thoughtfully on a briar pipe, while the staff were busy below stairs.  A bright lunchtime in a day of drizzle, so I wore my new Berghaus and waterproof trousers and walking shoes and surged out for a mild mannered walk about the edges of town. Not a ...

Over breakfast this morning, I received a note from Poetry Salzburg to say they are going to publish, the first part of Gordon Road, Google Street View , plus three of my free verse sonnets about memory, Mnemosyne Speaks, Death of an Accompanist, and Daguerrotype . Massively bucked up by this, especially by the acceptance of the Google Street View poem. Perhaps I am not an abject failure after all.  This news also helped to alleviate impostor syndrome when Robin and I interviewed Niall Campbell at 10:30. Niall proved not only hugely talented, but highly likeable too, growing up in South Uist, and now living not too far from St Andrew's where we have been a few times recently. His collection The Island in the Sound is magical . Then I met Adele at Seaford Station, and we zoomed off to Lewes, Adele even doing a bit of glasswork on the train, where we went to The John Harvey Tavern, where we met Frances and Deana. Ben and Sally sadly unable to make it. Deana hilarious, telling u...