under another sun

A day at home. Feeling in the need of a day doing little. The cats no respecters of people who went to bed very late. Spoke to Mum, who'd had a difficult day yesterday, and then had a leisurely breakfast. Mainly a lazy day after a flurry of sorting things out this morning. Watched a movie this afternoon called The First Wives Club from the nineties, which was fairly perfect for a rainy Sunday afternoon. Lorraine packing to go up to Scotland tomorrow morning, and we made fisherman's pie for dinner. All well. To bed.

Woke up with plans, but soon developed a very sore throat and felt drained. Cancelled my haircut with Stacy, and my night out with my glass buddies, and simply had a gold sofa day instead. Beth called around this afternoon (after I had done a lateral flow test) and so Sam and I heard all about the new flat, and rehearsals for the play and so on. It's great to see her in such a happy time.   Read a bit. Sam cooked for us.  I continued to slump on the sofa when Lorraine got back from work this evening. 

Lorraine went off today to get one of her trademark haircuts which sees her returning with longer hair than before. Swishy and quite glamourous. She also hung out with Betty for a bit too. I meanwhile, after popping out to get some bread in the morning, spent the rest of the day having a gold sofa day as the rain fell with persistent gusto outside. All I wanted to do today was watch TV. It's good to have ambitions which are easily achievable. So I watched a film shot by the RAF in colour during the war about Lancaster bombers and their crews. I watched a short documentary talking to pilots from the Battle of Britain. I watched FA cup football, and Chelsea win, and a documentary about Manchester City. Synopsis: rubbish.  In short I became an invertebrate sprawled on the sofa like Jabba the Hut and what's more I felt a good deal better for it. An earlyish night, where I slept like a large baby.

Up early to walk with Toby to the station, but there was a tremendous deluge first thing, and Lorraine gave us a lift instead. Felt sad to see Toby go, but hopefully I will see him next week too. Home to a hobbits second breakfast and coffee. Later in the day Lorraine went into town to get a hot stones massage and hung out with Rosie.  I felt a deep attraction to the idea of simply hanging about on the gold sofa. There are many things I should be doing, but instead I read a bit, and watched a SF series called The Expanse, which was excellent when binged. Lorraine and I had started to watch it some time ago, and then simply stopped. I ate one of Lorraine's individual chicken pies, and enjoyed being a couch potato.  Lorraine home, all relaxed from massages and a cocktail.  

Lorraine messaged at around six this morning, leading to day of wall to wall stressy work for her. A faint and distant cry from being the best of Saturdays. I ended up doing some writing and going for a walk. A tired wife on the gold sofa tonight.  

Lorraine doing school work from home, and zooming off midday as there had been a recall notice on the car, something to do with a child lock in the back. I spent the day getting spreadsheets ready for the my accountant. Fairly dispiriting stuff, but a big relief to get it done and sent off.  Mid afternoon, I managed a rain dodging walk. Reached the far side if the hill fort when big spots of rain, began and my lightning tracker app rumbled in my earphones. Sloped home through the woody bits in soaking rain. Happy to be home, and sit with Lorraine on the gold sofa as the rain poured outside.   Before the rain, walked past these starlings. I liked how a single bird is taking wing.   

A day of calm, no beers and no curries. Doing laundry and business admin bits this morning. A text from Mark with a photo of the poem I had written for his wedding in 1989. Working on poems this morning, and sent some of the newer ones to Robin and Sarah. Robin liked them, which was reassuring. Emailing the agency in Paddington about payment. The boards at the bottom of the Kenny coffers are bleakly visible, as the wheelbarrows of Paddington doubloons have yet to be tipped in. The prospect of a cashless Christmas is slightly worrying. To sundial where Jewel gave me a massage at midday, which made me feel pleasantly boneless and sleepy this afternoon, ironing out all the back evils that accumulated from commuting and sitting at a desk on a broken chair for weeks on end. Went to the post office on the way home in a curiously mellow way. Then home, where I had a deep post massage doze for 40 minutes. Then coffee, and popped outside in the pouring rain. Then cooked and when a frazzled ...

Torrential rain this morning. I felt disinclined to do anything and achieved this ambition with flying colours. Betty had got in late last night, and after a fast catch up, Lorraine drove her off in the rain to work at the stage school, then L did some shopping returning later dripping. I focused some of my best thinking on different ways of sitting on the gold sofa, drinking tea and eating. A gloriously indolent day. Apart from mopping up Brian the cat's vomit, that is. Brian is ill and sorry for himself.

Gold sofa day After working a little this morning, spent the day sprawled wanly on my gold sofa with a unpleasantly upset and surging stomach. Lots of things to get on with, but I did none of them and talked Lorraine out of all business. Instead we sipped mineral water with a squeeze of lemon, ate a little bland food in the evening, and watched some fairly entertaining TV.

Gold sofa day Yippee! Busy doing nothing today. Lorraine and I reading the paper on my gold sofa. At one point I decided to clean the filter of my aquarium, but this necessitated moving the sofa, then vacuuming all the appalling things that were under there. Lorraine noticed spiderwebs and soon we were seeking specialised nozzles and hoovering the ceiling, as well as carrying buckets of water for the tank. I cooked a large Sunday roast with six veggies and we ate this. Later Betty came by to collect Lorraine. Beth has just been selected to sing a solo in The Royal Albert Hall when there is an orgy of 100 stage schools performing bits from musicals. It will be her last stage school performance and she is going out on a high, even though the event sounds like a species of Dantesque purgatory to me. Things are going well for her. She and Mark are well up for more performances of Wrong , so we will sort those out in the coming week. In the evening I sat on the sofa in an improving way, rea...

Gold sofa Hung over this morning. The children full of beans and in between bouts of bouncing on the trampoline in the garden, leaped from chair to chair around us the adults who were gingerly sipping tea. Puffin behaving well, despite having children piling on top of her. Max not surfacing at all. Then, after fond farewells, Lorraine and I had an easy journey back to Brighton, listening to the Archers Omnibus on the radio. Home and we wandered down into the Laines and found a cafe for a late breakfast. Due to a persistent fragility, Lorraine and I lurked on my gold sofa, enjoying its restorative powers all afternoon while reading the newspaper, and watching X Factor on TV. Below breakfast porridge, which the children consumed with glee.