Working Sunday
Yesterday I did the most consistent day of physical work that I have done for a while, sorting and taking stuff out for the skip, doing a laundry and pegging it out.  Planting potatoes, and some bulbs, fixing a frame for the vine, and general pruning.  The sun shining helped. 

The black lad came round to thank me again for the bike and ask advice.  His name is Josh, and he had his very young brother and sister with him (although I suppose they could be his kids).  They were clinging to each other’s hands and staring, wide eyed, at the garden.

Met up with Joe in the late afternoon at Salts.  Then went to a very good jam session at the Jacobs Well.  He went on to the Bridge and I went to City Vaults to meet up with Dave and Lesley.  Me and Dave did some talking about the 11th November show.  The fact we were more than fresh was probably to the good.  We need to talk about what we are going to do before we can start the actual planning.  Things like how much narration and how much semi staged needs to be done, and what, and who, else could be involved with the night.

Took a trip to Crawley last Thursday, I think.

I have been chillin’.  I spelled it like that deliberately.  It is a new word that better describes a state than any of the old ones.  It has tones of meaning that relaxing does not have, and resting is a very different concept.  So, seeing it is a new word, it is sensible to spell it as a new word.

Apart from a few heavy shops, and some cooking, the main excitement was talking ma to Crawley and to the new Library.

In the last few days I have done several heavy shops for my parents, taken several more branches off the apple tree in their front garden (but nothing like as much as I wanted), planted potatoes in clay that has to be sliced (because it cannot be dug), cooked a curry and a number of soups, had my first call from the Arts Council, and downloaded the funding application form.  Oh, and I cut my dad’s hair, vacuumed the downstairs, and filled in the claim form for payment of Ma’s last dental treatment.

The Arts Council is potentially a significant step.  The grant application process is complex, but I can see no reason why I cannot apply for money to pay for most of the things I actually want to produce.  The Carr Dawes exhibition is the obvious first one, but <I>Lines of Power – Lines of Pleasure (The history and poetry of pylons)</i> has been waiting to be produced as a book for over 4 years, and funding would mean I could do it.

I got a bus to Ifield to see a play at the Ifield Barn Theatre a few nights ago.  I got there at 7.00 for an 8 o’clock show, and it was in darkness, I had to use my mobile to check the poster in the door said 4th – 8th March.  I went to the Plough for a pint and came back.  Blackness ruled.  Someone in the pub said he had read it was off on that night, but could not be sure.  Bloody amateur shambles.  I remember seeing a play there a few years ago and thinking it a society well up its own opinion. 

I did not mind the wasted trip so much because the Plough is a good boozer, though full of men swearing, a lot (more than I hear in the up down my street).  I then got the bus back but went on to the Charcoal Burner.  I knew a few, and got talking to a Paisley man who did not remember St Mirran (the town’s team) winning the SFA Cup in the 80’s.  I actually saw the game, Vs Dundee Utd, but he is a Ranger’s fan so cares for nothing outside, even his own town’s team.

The next night I went to the Railway nee Rocket to see Viv’s band for a charity gig.  I saw the <i>Easi Cure</i> (later <i>The Cure</i>) there in the 70’s.  I actually have a bootleg tape of a performance there, and I am sure you can here me talking loudly in the background. 

It was a very good night.  I drunk bottles of Brains SA, and poured them by putting the pint glass over the top, turning them upside down, and lifting the bottle slowly up.  People talked to me about it.  I knew Viv’s family and a bloke called Ian that I have not seen for nearly 30 years.  I also got to give a history of the language of the English to a very pretty young Czech lass called Lenka.

Widening my Welsh
I got back yesterday from Ramsgate.  Basil (my brother) drove us through the Weald.  It was a good drive and a positive test for Basil.  We went along the side of the Royal Military Canal, went to Winchelsea, stopped for lunch in <a href="http://www.beerintheevening.com/pubs/s/59/5937/Queens_Head/Icklesham">a pub</a>, and then to Burwash via some of <a href="http://johnmadjackfuller.homestead.com/">Mad Jack Fuller’s follies</a>.

I went to the Monastery on Monday, on the slow trains to Redhill and Tonbridge.  It was a good week.  The only minus was me getting confused about about both the monastery’s and my brother’s immediate future and then speaking untruths. 

Their wildlife pond had more frogs than I have ever seen, and I watched the harbour being dredged by two JCB armed ships.  I also read a dense book called <I>Britain During the Fall of the Roman Empire</i>.  I also went to 3 services a day, talked with Basil about him and our family, and wrote a letter which will serve as a last word to an odd relationship if she still cannot remember her friends.

I actually walked around Ramsgate more than I have ever done and learnt much of it.  I also started the process of trying to get a show on there.  The Sailors Church would be a lovely venue that I could write a good show (my father, his father, and two of my mother’s brothers were all sailors; and I have at least two sea based poems).  More hopeful though is the fact that the <a href="http://www.beerintheevening.com/pubs/s/66/6613/Artillery_Arms/Ramsgate">Artillery Arms</a> is being run by a new couple, the place has always been full of bright nutters who will listen, the beer is even better than it was, they are turning the downstairs pool room into a function room, and Lisa, the pretty young