under another sun

A storm of wind and rain overnight. The job that was mooted for next week definitely not happening now. Working through a list of to dos for Friday.  Was finally sent the log on details to my new business bank account (it has taken about a month) only to find someone had already taken funds out of it with a cheque.  I don't have a chequebook and so had to phone up the bank, and be passed from person to person for almost half an hour. Eventually I got through to the fraud department. After twenty seconds of talking to this bloke I was cut off. Repeat the process and finally, after well over half an hour I was refunded the money. It seems like it was a bank error, rather than someone trying to defraud me.   A lunchtime treat. I sauntered back down to the Open House and met Reuben for a bite to eat.  I had a vegan club sandwich which was incredibly filling, we also had a Guinness and cup of coffee. Just lovely to catch up. I hadn't had a proper chat with him for ages. J...

Up with the sparrows on a Sunday, took my lovely some tea and then rain dodged off to Brighton Station where I met Anton, and we trained up to Waterloo South Bank to meet some of our old IBM pals at 12:30 in what had been billed as a direct marketing reunion. We were a bit early and stopped in a pub across the road from Waterloo called The Auberge where I have often been in the past. £7.50 for two halves of lager, blinking daylight robbery. Anton and I soon off to Studio 6, at Gabriel's wharf, a trusty old venue. And soon in and hugging lots of old pals, my old boss Jackie, Sue, Brian, Reuben, Marja, Andy Fitzgerald, Sarah Freems, Terry and Jax. Basically sat about having a bite to eat and a few drinks and catching up. Felt really normal to be chatting to them -- and I still have a lot of fondness for those folks. Interesting how many among us had stayed at IBM: Sue, Andy, Anton and Jax. I took an opportunity too to thank several people for their help in former times, and told Ja...

Off to London this afternoon. I'd been doing bits and pieces at home, but not very productively. I did some poetry and managed not to make things worse, which was nice. To Victoria, and I walked down to Tate Britain, which is becoming my new favourite gallery. There was an exhibition there by Rachel Whiteread , who I have liked for years. She makes invisible spaces concrete. I didn't have enough time to go into the exhibition, but I looked at the big piece outside, which was a hundred spaces under chairs she had cast in what may have been glass or some kind of plastic. They looked like big boiled sweets. The problem I am beginning to have with Whiteread is that everything she does is an expression of the same idea. I rashly snapped two of the Francis Bacon faces, and enjoyed it when I was looking at Jacob and the Angel by Epstien, which I absolutely love, a two women stopped and sniggered at it, and then one said, "ooh look he's got wings!" From there I walk...

Disturbed, anxious dreams. Woke up early to a rejection from The Stockholm Review. Up and onto my French work, which was pinged back and forth across the English Channel all day. I went for a couple of short walks while waiting for everything to sort itself out. Dwelling in Facebook all day, lots of women I know using the #metoo hashtag, saying they had been sexually abused. Meanwhile, in the afternoon a weirdly orange darkness descended. Shortly before three I could not make out the numbers or letters on my keyboard, even though I was sitting by my window. Brian and I went outside to investigate, and the sky was thickly overcast, with a faint orange tinge and letting no light through. It was bizarre. The mix of Saharan sand and Portuguese wildfire smoke, and been dragged up by ex-hurricane Ophelia which was currently blowing the cobwebs off Eire. It was unnaturally warm too, for an October day. I sent a tweet out about it. Turned out my most popular tweet to date would be about th...

Woke up with a headache. Saturday, but work to be done. Working for mes amis in Paris during the day. Then in the afternoon, a sleep. Messages with the Tobster about Brexit, we feel the same about it. Find myself looking at the news websites, for half-hourly updates, looking at Facebook, my newsfeed full of lamentation and horror, for the majority of my friends were remainers. However hard I look at this news, I cannot find a single positive thing about it. It is the most profound political crisis of my lifetime, and entirely self-inflicted. If in doubt, drink. So off this evening with Lorraine to The Evening Star, where we met Glen, over from Greece, Richard and Steve. Really nice to see them all, and swig some real ale and catch up on the gossip. Then after an hour and a half off to Reuben and Claire's house for a party. With dancing, Lorraine and I both dancing a good deal, with the Turners, Reuben, Claire and Japhy spinning some rather good tunes. Reuben gave Lorraine severa...

A decent night's sleep, and feeling more human today. Weirdly, nothing to get stressed about. Up late, but wrote a post on the Telltale site about Jess Mookherjee becoming a Telltale poet. Then out to get fixings for breakfast. Lorraine and I then had a mooch around the open houses nearby. Bumped into Reuben and Claire and three of the boys, plus three lots of educational folks that Lorraine knew. We bought a print by Heike Roesel whose work we liked loads last year when we saw it. Really nice woman too. Then a longish walk where we met Carolyn and saw her fine needlework and nature painting. Really enjoyed our afternoon. Also bought a ceramic light, moulded around a log. Rather beautiful. Not that we can afford all this stuff, but it does feel a bit like being a kid in a sweetshop. Home again, Lorraine working on school things. I cooked and did a few bits and pieces. Betty sleeping most of the day recovering from last week's shenanigans. I'm left with feeling there is...

A hot sunny day. Lorraine and I looking at the garden up early and watering our stumpery. Brighton crowded and milling with people. Lorraine doing school work this morning, so I walked down London Road looking at things. I was looking at things a bit harder than usual, because I am planning a new project about the road. Instead of plunging ahead, however, I thought this time I might actually think about it beforehand, rather than charging ahead. I'm coldly assessing its viability.  Then into the gym. This much needed at the moment as I am in a fat stage. I tried new machines, including a row of them that a few anxiously thin boys were using to bulk up their arms while staring intently at their biceps in the mirror. This being human business is a challenge. Then I walked home. Bumped into Reuben and Claire and three of their bairns, and a good chat.  Reubs and Claire are going to come to the show, which is kind of them. Walked back through the park, to find Lorraine was ...

Up early with a scratchy throat and reading a slightly alarming email from mum about Panamanian adventures. Toby feeling unwell on arrival and went to hospital and had a drip and given some pills, but has been discharged. Later I learned from a facebook post that they had also met Margaret Atwood in the airport. I meanwhile spent the first few hours of the day working on the Shakespeare poem for this . Then off to the gym for one of my trademarked mild mannered workouts and home again for a miso soup lunch. Then I bused to Hove where I spent a three hours with Helen. She looked very well after her cancer treatment last year, and it was great to catch up with her. She had new music to play me on our Centaur project. Really good stuff, a fully orchestrated first twenty minutes of the opening to the opera, she played me on Sibelius . I'm really sensing and organic core to it now. And then some gorgeous bits including an aria on the piano. Bus badness, meant I had to walk half the ...

Pressing on, rewriting brochures, tweaking a script, talking to Dave about scamps etc. Marginally more optimistic, with no crisis and able to glimpse the end of the week. As Lorraine was at a headteacher's conference & Beth was out I scored myself some fish and chips, then went for a walk down to the sea and along the seafront under the iSore and along a bit. Good to breath some air after having been manacled to my desk for the last few days. Dark and blowy, but not very cold. Listening to the mildly-diverting debaucheries of Keith Richards as I walked. Will go with Mum to Diane's funeral in a fortnight, I'd like to pay my respects and good to be with Mum there too. Facebooked by Nicki Rose, or Ricki Nose as Reuben, First Matie and I called her quite often, who'd found a farewell poem I'd written her a frightening 21 years ago. It was based on Lake Isle of Innisfree by Yeats for some reason. Nicki was leaving IBM to work for Walt Disney: "You will arise...

A gradual improvement in the slogging work stuff today, I am working with very supportive people, particularly Matt. A long while since I have experienced such  copy rage  so called by Reuben, First Matie and myself when, working in the Copy Shop. Nice chats with Anton and Mum though during the day. I was particularly pleased to reach five o'clock where I took Beth to the pub, soon to be joined by Lorraine - where we enjoyed talking about Christmas. I found myself somewhat drained, and after a rapid foray into a snowy topped pint or two simply wanted to come home again. We arranged for a delivery Shahi curry too, so all in all a rather pleasanter end to the week.

A slowish start to Saturday, Lorraine and I lurking in bed till Lorraine had to zoom off in in haste or face the wrath of her hairdresser. I spent a few hours working more on A Glass of Nothing. Beth up to London for her cousin Maria's 21st birthday celebrations, including a trip to see Mama Mia . Lorraine and I then in the afternoon went off in the very strong winds off to Trading Boundaries where we got a comfortable reading chair for my study. Absolutely delighted with this, is perfect for my room, very comfortable but not slouchy. Perfect for reading in, in fact. Amazing how excited I got over a chair. Lorraine and I then drove back with it in the car, and stopped off for an early dinner in a pub called The Rainbow Inn outside Lewes, which we happened to drive past. A pint of perfectly kept Harveys, and I had pork vindaloo, one of the specials of the day, Lorraine had a traditional pub favourite of gammon, egg and chips. My curry was exceedingly mild mannered but fine, and ...

Lorraine and I having an incredibly lazy start to the day. Sat in bed writing poetry, and we read the Paper on our screens. But I did drag myself off to buy some bread for our breakfast. After breakfast, though, Lorraine and I simply went back to bed again and fell asleep till it was afternoon like the worst sort of teenagers. In the afternoon Lorraine and I mooched about doing a spot of shopping for me.  I bought myself a dark blue shirt, and looked at trousers and shoes but nothing inspired me. I had a coffee with Lorraine, who then waited for Beth to finish work in town, and they did some extra shopping. I simply came home and listened to some music, and played my guitar for the first time in ages and felt rather mellow. In the evening off to see Matt in the new flat he has with Reuben. Nice to see them in a pleasant flat with a garden near the groovily named Vogue Gyratory . A few drinks and a spot of beef curry with the boys, and listening to music and chatting. I like Reu...

A bit of a meh day, feeling unsettled. But I enjoyed reconnecting with Reuben. Lovely to chat with him as a trusted touchstone to talk about charity accounts and foreign travel. He'd been to Ethiopia and I was asking him for his opinion on The Great Chad Adventure. We'll have a couple of beers soon. Also cheerily, I booked up La Barbarie, and Lorraine, Mum and hopefully Mas will be able to stay there in October. I'm looking forward to it already. Lorraine and I spent this evening working on the hideous application form. It really is horrid. But we did enough to feel progress had been made before joyfully swarming down to the gold sofa.

Leaning down to open something in the kitchen this morning and my lower back seized up painfully, in a completely different place to where I have had a trapped nerve. This small thing led to a day of gloom despite the fact I was in my office and thinking about skeletons, as well as writing a blog post about ghosts  having been set thinking about them by Reuben's text yesterday. Lorraine returned home and I cooked a slimming meal featuring large prawns which I had to de-vein, a job I have never done before, and the pulling the poo threads out of crustaceans seems a bizarre activity. An interesting interlude tonight, when Reuben introduced us again to his son Jem, now ten. Good to see Reuben who was looking extremely dapper, and talk to Jem who is a charming and intelligent boy. Jem is conducting his own open-minded investigations into cryptids  such as yetis and big foot, and other aspects of the supernatural. He had asked his dad if he knew anyone who had seen a ghost, and...

My office vandalised by cats this morning. The kangaroo plant on the top of a bookcase had been pulled down and emptied on the floor. Getting on with stuff including turning again to Skelton Yawngrave. For this is the year of completion. Not cutting through with as much clarity as I'd like, however. Lorraine working from home this afternoon. I spoke to Janet today, and heard from Reuben too. I may be meeting up with one of his sons Jem to discuss ghosts. Ghosts are not discussed enough. The night I saw what was to my mind unambiguously a ghost I was at university studying philosophy. It has always interested me in how nobody in the philosophy common room wanted to discuss the matter at all. I went out for a much needed walk for an hour or so. Got some keys cut in the afternoon by which time the skies had cleared and sunlight poured down from a blue sky. Lovely to be walking through the park. The sun also gleaming on the half a dozen white caravans and vans of the Travellers who...

Started listening to Claire Tomalin's biography of Dickens this morning. Covering his time in the blacking factory and playing Zombie Gunship as I listened. Found out the French Bloke plays it too. When I closed my eyes after playing it for half an hour or so I saw ant-like zombies with little target boxes on them. Slightly disturbing. Work fine. I had a good chat with one of the people in the office who has written a TV series, as yet unproduced. The amazingly long drawn out years of haggling and negotiating sound quite soul-destroying. Being a writer is a masochistic business for the majority of us. A copy shop reunion (CSR) this evening. First Matie and I bussed down to Waterloo and met Reuben in the Stage door. He was drinking a pint with some gusto after a hideous afternoon at work. This rapidly improving though, and we repaired off to one of those greasy spoon cafes that serves cheap and decent Thai grub in the evening. Green tea here (Reuben, with mock smugness: 'I...

Monkeying around I've noticed that as soon as I start designing anything, time evaporates. Spent hours this morning moving things around by smidges, and endlessly rewriting copy. I was also sent some monkey business by Mandy in New Zealand. Her new game features excellent photographs of evil and wise monkeys, and I will write a wee bit of copy for it. In the afternoon I set off for the gym, bumping into Clare with young Aubrey. Had a nice chat and we were met by joined by Reuben and young Serge who had been into town to look around in the Natural History Museum, and do a spot of whale fancying. A mild-mannered workout today as I had a twinging back and sore throat. Lorraine home early and was able to supervise the pastry part of a layer pie I was making. I had no timings for this recipe but we guessed one and a half hours, and I felt quite proud when I sliced it open and it was in its layers of egg and onion (flavoured with mustard and thyme) and tinned pork meat and had set proper...

Slow Sunday A slow breakfast, juicer out and a foamy sort of celery, carrot and apple drink. I had sardines on toast, which Lorraine erroneously maintains is not a breakfast food at all. Lorraine working hard most of the day. I had the luxury of getting my poetry files into focus. I had duplicated files, and files with different versions and it had all got out of control and took hours to sort out. If in doubt, tidy up, and I feel the threads I need to pick up are at least discernible. Larry Sanders fest today, then cooked a mash of carrot, butternut squash and potato, with a modicum of butter and some grated Parmesan and black pepper. Simple but nice, especially if you leave it a little lumpy and serve with gravy, greens and a turkey steak. Lorraine and I bumped into Reuben and his son Serge. Later watched a beautifully shot adaptation of Sebastian Faulks' novel Birdsong . Amazing cinematography, and beautiful people staring at each other with longing, interspersed with ghastly tr...

A cuppa with Reuben Up and surging to the station for the 7:24 train, only to find a baleful multitude gathered at the station. A train had broken down on the line, blocking all trains to London. Luckily I met Reuben, and we sloped off to a cafe and had a cup of tea and a chat for some time before returning to the station and finding that we could travel again. Nice to chat to Reuben as the train dawdled north through fields with horses standing about in coats. Finally at work, at 10:10 (three hours door to door). In the afternoon Keith and I went off site to work on a thorny brief about eye health. We found ourselves in a curiously empty pub where we had lunch and hunched over our pads. At 5:30 stopped and simply had a beer instead which was quite cheerful. I really like Keith. Home to Lorraine and a hearty chicken soup. Finally got the last piece of the jigsaw for the CD, the code number of the barcode that will be used on the CD. Have had to download complicated software from the PP...

Party time So today zooming about getting ready for a large party to celebrate Betty's 20th birthday and me and Lorraine living together. Lorraine off to get an astonishingly red hair cut n' colour which everyone agreed was rather smart. Then Betty, Lorraine and I going off to buy quantities of boozes and food in supermarkets, blow up ballons, prepare food and move furniture about. Very tired all day but a shower and a stiff drink worked wonders. Max, The French Bloke and their cherubic children Tahlia, Zemirah and Elijah arrived an hour and a half early, which effectively started the party with the children zooming about. Betty upstairs glamming herself up with two of her pals, watched awe-struck by young Tahlia and Zemirah. Another pal Linda arrived somewhat before the party started already drunk and slightly chaotic. Then lots of guests, First Matie and Matty Boy, The Shakespeare Trio who gave us a bit of a tune accompanied by Steve Cartwright on banjo, Claudius, Matt and Wa...