under another sun

Now in Haywards Heath, in a particularly pleasant and leafy former council estate. A minute’s walk away across a little open ground is a fenced path that runs along the side of a field of neat allotments. Few people on the streets, and an edge of town feeling. Looking from my desk across the leafy estate to a tree-lined horizon. It is now Friday morning, the morning of Halloween, and for the first time in a week I have a moment to catch up. Last Sunday was our wedding anniversary, which we spent packing. And on Monday, we packed in earnest. We recaptured Brian who has been acting weirdly over the last few months, when he returned ungratefully for food before disappearing for the rest of the day. Surprisingly Brian quickly resigned himself to his fate and began to be more like himself again, and once the cat flap was replaced with the original glass sheet in the front door there was nothing for them to do other than stare out like prisoners. John helped us pack for half a day on M...

Feeling brighter after the best night's sleep I have had in a while. But throat still raw and sore. Improved mood today generally, tinkered with some poems and sent out a poetry submission to an excellent online magazine called Antiphon in the morning. We have exchanged contracts on the Old Church Hall so we will be leaving here in two weeks to the day, to go into rented accommodation in Haywards Heath till our new house becomes available. Off to the barbers to get a haircut. It is a fact now that the area of concern is no longer a concern, it is an actual bald patch which is spreading like an angry bush fire. I am going bald, the very word is like a slap on the scalp. And even the artful angle of the barber showing me his handiwork with a mirror couldn't disguise the pilgarlic travesty of my head. Immediately after this I went off to see Jewel for an hour long deep tissue massage on my rigid back, shoulders and neck. Came out feeling as if I had been beaten up for all t...

Up early and tidying up the house in a two hour frenzy before the photographer arrived. The house photographer seemed quite professional. I pestered him with questions to understand some of the tricks of his trade, saturating the shots and taking many of the same scene at different exposures to overlay them. Camera height is important too, low for gardens, high for kitchens. Pulling out one chair invitingly from a table. He also left me with a good story about the son of a famous photographer who discovered that his recently deceased father had loads of property. The photographer was hired to photograph the properties and accompany the son going happily about town gloating over the huge fortune he had suddenly come into. The son went into the final property and after some time emerged white faced, saying he needed to see his solicitor. The final flat had contained a Thai lady the father had married two weeks before his death. This all somewhat disruptive to my work schedule though,...

My life is a soap I decided today, that living at the Old Church Hall is currently like inhabiting a soap opera. There is the daily sporting of alien costumes and piratical roaring of the rehearsals. Regular visitors turn up to add colour to the story, such as Cath today returning an umbrella she borrowed yesterday and for a fast wee, and there are comedy moments with random pieces of machinery or IT malfunctioning every day, and cats gambolling about and having hissy fits. Lorraine and I popped up to the Twitten and saw Dawn hard at it. She has also liaised with the builder, and work will start shortly on the garden and kitchen. It is all costing a small fortune. Then off to the Marlborough Theatre with Beth, Mark and Callum to meet Tarik to discuss staging the show on Friday and Saturday. Very haphazard organisation, and the venue has added nothing to our marketing other than distributing the flyers I provided. Luckily Beth has been an absolute star in this respect, and we...

Cash for kibbles Up to London again reading about riots again in The Guardian , though things have quietened down in the capital, there was a strong police presence in St. Pancras Station this evening. Missing my iPod on the long homeward trips. A trouble free day, writing mainly about kibbles. It does make you shake your head in wonder when you have kibbles to thank for doubloons in the Kenny coffers. Happy as I am to be writing about kibbles, part of me would dearly like to tear myself away and work on the thousand other things I have to do. Leaving home at 7 and returning at 8:40 doesn't leave time for much else. Although I did sneak off during the afternoon with The FB for a chat. He's having a horrid time with his sister who is seriously ill with cancer. This rather put my own house moving stresses into sharp relief. Despite this we had a few laughs, with the FB fondly recalling his own juvenile outbreaks of public disorder. Returned to work and stayed a ...

Moving the big things Up early, with Calliope noisily exporing her new environs of the bedroom. Lorraine and I back blearily early to the Twitten. Cath and Dawn very kindly arrived to help. Then Steve and Lance, the 'nice man big van' guys sparked ant-like ferrying along the twitten, past the talkative man waiting for his drugs, and into the back of the big van. Dawn seemingly able to carry her own bodyweight. Beyond, the centre of town unnusually lively around the station with Brighton football supporters, who played their first league game in their new ground up at Falmer. At the end, Lorraine reminded me to lock the back door of my house, and I walked in again, noticing my footfalls echoing, and I felt a moment's contentment. I've had a great time at that house, but I am ready and very happy to move in with Lorraine. I left the aquarium there to be collected in a day or so. At The Old Church Hall, a mere five minutes away, Betty and Mark were ready with te...

Citizen Calliope Lorraine and I packing like mad all day, after I had got up early and written some copy about strokes. Lorraine also trying to sort out the rent on Beth's college digs, while I fielded a few work things. And at the end of the day we had ferried some of the precious things, like computers, guitar and some paintings over to the Old Church Hall. Most precious of these of course was Calliope. She was busily involved in all the business of the day, until the moment when she found herself being stuffed into the cat carrier, holding onto the side with her claws, and she realised that she was the business of the day. I felt like a criminal abducting the Princess of the Twitten and smuggling her past Brian and Basil her new brother and sister into the Old Church Hall, where she will be just one among three: Citizen Calliope. Once she had arrived, she was instantly inquisitive and set about exploring. When we left her in the bedroom, she retreated to a hidey-hole under the ...

Exodus Playing Bob Marley's Exodus this morning, and it is time for the movement of I Jah Man Kenny. So I booked a self-styled nice man with a big van, to move the bulky bits to Lorraine's, known from now on as the The Old Church Hall in this blog, on Saturday. Calliope beings her new life on Friday when I take her and the other precious things over in the car. Then fielded calls from the agency. Ordered packing boxes, painted out graffiti on my green fence, collected my hard drive and other bits from the post office, backed up everything on it and tried ineffectually to catch up on the backlog of work. Then packing and sorting. When I decided the time had come to place my head into a doorframe and slam the door on it repeatedly, I chose instead to go to the gym where I became embroiled in a extra long workout. Emerged rather starving and was resting my bones when Lorraine came around. Probably prompted by seeing Mason yesterday, an appalling desire had grown in me for a Susse...

A day's holiday Spent hours wandering about in the sun with Lorraine. Across to Hove town hall to buy parking vouchers. Sauntering through parks and backstreets while I told the lucky Lorraine the entire story of The End of the Affair . Under my straw hat, found myself feeling as if I were on holiday, and more relaxed than I have been for weeks. The summer suck may be over. We went into the Gallery cafe where Wayne was working, and as they weren't too busy spent time chatting to him sipping coffee and elderflower and apple juice, and falling into conversation with a Hungarian woman who was showing Wayne her art photographs. Wayne is one of those people who makes you feel at home and welcome, and as the sun streamed through the windows the impression of being on holiday was magnified. Milled back into Brighton, via paint shops, to The Giggling Squid Thai restaurant, laughing it up over a cheap and tasty light lunch. Then returned to the Old Church Hall where I shall be moving ...