under another sun

Forwarding more notes to Janet and Ken's friends today. Then a bit of a nasty interlude when I got a letter from HMRC forwarded from my accountant saying that no tax had been paid. I phoned the tax folks and sorted it out, but had to wait almost twenty minutes before I could speak to a human. I had paid it into the wrong account. A very nice taxman on the end of the line however. Not so impressed with my accountants, who failed to give me the right information in the first place and then forwarded the HMRC thing over without comment. Otherwise a fairly nice day. Chuffed up to Richmond where I had not mooched in many a year. Went to the White Cross where I met Keith for a beer and a chat. He was telling me a horrific diving story where he got lost without a torch in the murky black under a shipping lane in Weymouth and feeling panicky and running out of air, having been separated from his dive partner and disoriented he headed  towards a light underwater, which was another diving ...

French flair and floods Up to the smoke this afternoon to meet my lovely French client Jeanne. We met in the Royal Opera House restaurant. A lovely building to wander around. I was five minutes earlier than Jeanne and I stood out on the terrace looking down on the bustle of Covent Garden below. Jeanne arrived with chic hair. How can hair be chic? Is the question I have since asked myself. But it undeniably was - and probably one of those sinister French things. We sat in the restaurant, squinting into the low bright sun above the square. Good to see her and chat briefly about projects we will work on next year, which will make a nice change from diseases. Then off to Richmond, where I waited in one of my favourite pubs The White Cross , for Mex and Sarah. Waiting I got absorbed in a book of poems, and then looking up saw that the river had flooded and the pub was islanded. Trapped in a pub! The horror. I bought another beer to steady my nerves. Took a while before the water abated and...