under another sun

A good night's sleep. Off to meet Mum and Mas in Elstree at high noon. Packed my bag, and caught the train. Settled into faux first and worked on poems for a bit, and tinkered with a short story. Quite enjoyed working this way as the countryside slipped by and turned into London. A change at St Pancras, and stayed on the same platform off to Elstree and Borehamwood. The Borehamwood football team, is called Boreham Wood FC and are in the fifth tier of English football. Wikipedia says that Boredom Wood FC have a strong local rivalry with St Albans City. Anyhow, rather amazingly, they are now through to the fifth round of the FA Cup and are playing Everton in their next match.  I mooched down to The Waggon and Horses, and was let in just after 12 and was enjoying a pint of Guinness on their favoured table by the fire when Mum and Mas arrived. Mason said he had been watching a TV programme about modern sniping. He was a sniper in the Korean War so had more than a passing interest in it...

Up and a happily less talk from the annoying little man this morning over breakfast. I had haggis as part of my traditional breakfast, and Lorraine added haggis and black pudding. Passive aggressive hoovering outside our door just before it was time to leave. Funny wee men, but otherwise our room was clean and tidy and the breakfasts very good. The bus along into Princes Street, where we lurked about shopping, as Sam, who has been having trouble with his sleep patterns, decided to stay in bed. Instead Lorraine arranged to have two pairs of shoes, identical to the ones she was wearing, sent to Brighton. Journey home fairly unremarkable, played cards and read a little, and stared out of the window at the grey North Sea off the Northumberland coast. Rightly ignored advice from St Pancras staff to travel to Victoria to get the train, and caught the next scheduled train to Brighton with a delay of a mere five minutes or so. Beth kindly collected us from Preston Park station, and home at...

Up at six this morning, and feeling perky. Made porridge and tea, Lorraine kindly drove me to the station and off to London. Doing some work on the train. When I finished doing this, I realised I was feeling nauseous. Luckily I was sitting by the toilet, so felt reassured that if I needed to spew there was somewhere to do it. Into work, and felt sick all morning, struggling on with the brief with Keith, who was also under the weather. The briefest of pop out to the local pret a manger for a roll then back to it. A lengthy presentation, in which I didn't do too well, to round the day off. Feeling hot and sweaty today. Still, I have been offered another week's work there after this one, which is a boon. Heard from Carl today, that Rory, his brother, is seriously ill. I told him about Gerald. Home, passing several armed police inside St Pancras Station. Did some work on the train for my French friends. Luckily Lorraine collected me as she had been late at school due to a par...

Up with Lorraine today, and off to St Pancras today to work at an agency around the corner from the one I normally work at. Chaotic place, and feeling like a new boy, as I'd never worked there. Luckily I am partnered with Keith who has been there for a couple of days. No seats, their wifi is dreadful for 'guests' such as ourselves, a dire brief and Keith already flinty about the eyes. Still, good to see him. Popped out to get some sushi at lunch from the nearby supermarket which has a Japanese staffed sushi bento type lunchtime service there. Worked for the rest of the day of the crap brief, and left shortly after six. Home by 8:20 and when i got there Dawn and Lorraine were sitting opposite Betty, who was filming herself for an audition for a job in New York. Chatted to Dawn afterwards, who has lost her mother recently and is trying to get everything sorted with her family. Nice to see her. Lorraine and I off to bed, not needing to be rocked to sleep tonight.

A sigh of relief again this morning. Lorraine and I driving to the station. Kissed Lorraine goodbye in the car, a cup of tea from  The Daily Grind  and onto the train. This morning there was no need to work, instead I played Patience on my laptop, and listened to Villette, which I finally finished on the way home in the evening.  The final chapters were extraordinarily good, however, and it is a fine book well deserving of its reputation. But I had to be in certain moods to read it, and not a book you can just dip into very easily. In fact it took me longer to complete than any book I can think of. Pleased I stuck to my guns though. A strange day of work. Still very tired, but worked hard for the first few hours, then the afternoon there was nothing much to be done. Went to a pub called The Boot briefly with a few folks, including Sarah who is just about to go on maternity leave. Chatted to Karam too. The boot empty and like going back in time to an old fashioned London...

Bit of a scramble to catch the train, which after a bit stopped in the tunnel under the downs for ten minutes or so. As my background stress levels are high, I didn't enjoy this much, and very relieved  to be out of the tunnel. Late to work due to these signalling problems, but enjoying The Guest Cat as a light read. Shortly before arriving at St Pancras I had one of those moments when a detailed, chapter by chapter idea for a kind of ghost story, arrived in my head. Was able to jot down a list of bullets in a minute or so as soon as I arrived at work. A day of work sitting with Steve polishing and tweaking cattle concepts. Thankfully was released back into the wild this evening. There is much to be done before the move, not just the move itself, but all backlog of stuff of stuff I need to sort out - such as getting the marketing book sent out again - beforehand.  Still smarting about the last minute u-turn taken by Kogan Page so need to take action. Home on the train, de...

Up early and off in the rain to the smoke.When I arrived at the station L called to say the radio had said the trains were doomed. There only one train, mine, luckily enough as there had been a fatality at East Croydon.  Only ten minutes late for work, which was fine, and nice to be up in Tavistock Square again. Brain a little slow. Out at lunchtime in hard rain to post stuff off to the solicitors. Home in the rain from the office, and missed my train by about two seconds at St Pancras. Slow journey home. Lorraine out at her choir, and so I bought some fish and chips from the smiling man at Sing Li and took them home to eat in the company of Frasier. An early night once my lovely had returned and foraged food from the larder. Read poems (not mine) to Lorraine till she fell asleep.

Off to Tavistock Square. Brighton station in the morning had taken the precaution of cancelling trains before the snow arrived. The train delayed of course, but only by fifteen minutes as it slunk northward through the frosty fields. When I arrived in St Pancras, it was snowing in London. A morning of fiddly work on cat worms, with a nice Spanish woman Yaiza, who I'd not seen for a while. She was telling me about her Christmas meals in Spain, the rice, huge pots of vegetables and mixed meats that everyone dips into. She was almost drooling. Travel woe percolated through computer screens and the TV in the glass walled office next door. Many people had not made it in to the office at all, and I began to feel nervous I was going to be stranded in London. Pat told people they should go, and so I did. Betty's show was snowed off too, as the plan was to get to Kingston to see it after work. Early in the afternoon I legged it to St Pancras, and through sheer luck caught a delaye...

Back up to London for one day only. An excellent journey, on time and I managed to do lots of work on the poetry manuscript, which is changing lots in these last few days. Jerry phoned me as I was walking from St Pancras station to say he'd be late as his motorbike was punctured, and his second motorbike's breaks had been stolen. For me, one of those trying days when IT takes against you. Not being able to sign into to the system in the afternoon and so on, made a straightforward day complicated, also sending emails that were never received.   However I enjoyed sneaking off to buy some lasagna with First Matie at lunchtime, and working with Jerry again. Once home in Brighton, cheerily returning, pleased to be able to focus on poetry. Lorraine's day had been horrid, but we relaxed watching Masterchef.

Incredibly crawling late train this morning. The Brighton to St Pancras First Capital Connect service is truly dire, and their timetables are works of risible fiction. I find this all very stressful. Once at work, a pleasant enough day. Off at lunchtime with Matt to a local pub and we discussed my (advertising focused) New Idea, plus Jungian archetypes and other wide ranging subjects over a glass of wine and a bit of fish-based snap.  After work, I found myself in an extraordinary local dive called The County with Steve and Pat, (who have their own unsavoury name for it). Like stepping back into the 1970s, with strange decorations and lots of little tables with chairs. I had to change my chair for the gentleman who had been sitting in it before me was evidently rather aromatic. An hour or so given over to gossiping about former colleagues and their mad ways. Interspersed with older people shouting at each other.  Home, and a late chat with Lorraine before heading for be...

11/11/11 ... had no mystical or numerological significance for me, as it seems to have done for some people. My Orc foot somewhat better today, though I had to cancel a planned yomp through the countryside this weekend with Anton. An enjoyable stint in Tavistock Square and especially nice to work with Nicola again after a few years, as she'd given me a copy of A Prayer for Owen Meany . Trains screwed up from St Panrcas, which necessitated cramming into the tube for a session of claustrophobia exposure therapy across London in the evening rush hour. Once at Victoria got the fast train home. I have been carrying a small black stone from Moulin Huet in Guernsey around with me. I read something in Owen Meany about how the indigenous people of North America thought everything had a soul, not just people. I found myself posing the question 'what if this stone had a soul?' And ended up thinking stony soul thoughts all the way home. To the Shahi, where beer was drunk and a chilli...

Difficult lifts Back up to London again, leaving my Crackberry at home. I felt as if I had gone to work without my trousers. Into work trying to avoid seeing the area of concern spotlit and reflected inside the mirrored lift. I now have a distinct bald patch. I am picturing follicles leaping, free at last, like lemmings from my pate. Discovered First Matie sitting in the desk opposite me, and we bickered a bit about who was getting the teas in. Left work at a little before seven after a funny meeting with The French Bloke, who also during the day had thoughtfully described mum's operation in rather graphic detail. Off to see mum after work. She was in some pain and there is still no date for her release. She had eaten but this made her very uncomfortable. Otherwise in better spirits than I would be. Set off for home at eight. Crammed into the hospital lift for about seven minutes, which went to the top of the building and then down again, stopping at each floor. One woman asking to...

Fall Out of the house and slipped and fell over in the road, landing yet again on my knees. My knees are not having much luck lately, nor was it a dignified start to the morning. Chugged up to St Pancras and, once out, liking the way the leaves from the London plane trees are beginning to be pressed into patterns on the tarmac. A lovely harbinger of autumn. At work writing a dreary and difficult website for healthcare professionals. But it is all money coursing into the Kenny coffers so must be considered A Good Thing. Struggling a little, and beginning to snuffle with a cold. After work up to The Royal Free, where I discovered Mason having a quick restorative cup of coffee in the cafe outside. I then went up to the ninth floor visit mum, and was pleased to find her in fairly good spirits. I gave her a couple of magazines and a copy of The girl with the dragon tattoo on Joan's suggestion. Had a nice chat for an hour and a half, watching a pair of mating pigeons on the rail, the wa...

Sock stealing Mad dreams. My fishes had all bred and I needed to find a new tank for the fry before they were eaten. Found myself on a farm full of huge stampeding cattle. Then on a tractor that tipped over breaking my leg, but nobody would believe it was broken. I then punched a belligerent man's face and woke up. Exhausting. Crumpets and coffee with Mum and Mas. I asked Mas if he had experience post traumatic stress after returning from Korea, and he said he hadn't. He'd been a US Marine sniper. He said the people he shot at appeared so small they might have been fleas. I met Jana for the first time this morning, who on holiday from the Czech Republic was coming around to go for a walk with Mum. Very pleasant and funny woman, and I was sorry I had to rush off. I decided to walk to Mill Hill because I am porcine. Typical to hit a fat peak shortly before being on stage and launching books etc. Before I left, Mum gave me a folder full of pictures of Skelton Yawngrave charact...

Caryatids Dragged sorry butt out of bed and up to London again. Walked through town and into work. Quiet again without Pat and the FB who were pitching somewhere or other. Feeling hot and sweaty off and on during the day At lunchtime walked towards Euston and stopped at St Pancras Church, which is a very odd building with eight large caryatids. Which I found myself photographing. Also a piece of rather hidden public art of a deliberately damaged face, which is a memorial for the 13 people killed in the bus bombing. Carl told me that the photos of Tavistock Square brought his childhood back to him, walking around the square with his Mum and dogs as a child. They lived just around the corner from where I am working. Chose to walk back from the office down to Embankment again, through Russell Square, past the British Museum and down by Covent Garden. I love walking through all the the history, and houses where eminent people have lived marked by Blue Plaques, and the streaming by of curre...

An acorn of friendship Up to the smoke today as Mum is going to hospital tomorrow for her operation. Also had a lunchtime meeting in The Acorn of Swinton Street with Mike, who is the publisher of On Track amongst other things. I arrived early and took the opportunity to wander about the area a little, which I'd not been to for ages. Near The Acorn was The Water Rats theatre which, in another life, I performed one of my plays on a double bill, the other being by my old pal the late Timothy Gallagher. I'm fairly sure I'd not been inside it since then. Had a heroic lunch with Mike, starting at 1.00 and lasting till about 7 o'clock. Had a bream on a bed of complicated salad with two bottles of wine, and discussed our business, and generally shot the breeze. Found we had loads of interests in common, and I came away thinking that I'd made a new friend. Also I will be doing lots more interviews, and Mike mentioned some very interesting names, which will be great. Eventual...