elegantly autumn

No EDW post again yesterday. Baroque Mansions is all in a spin, what with being phased back into work - proper work, that is, not blogging work or poetry work or housework.

What this means to you, dear reader, is that although there may be little elegant posting going on, there was more elegance visible than of late about the Baroque person: the wardrobe changes are subtle but unmistakeable. Replace the flip flops with some vintage-looking brown pointy-toed flats from Liz Claiborn; replace the Fat Face jeans I bought in St Ives back when this was all starting out with a pair of large-buttoned, wide-leg cream crops; replace the old grey Gap T shirt with a nice fitted strappy top, and the same old jacket with a long beige linen cardigan down to my knees; and add a white mac, a big embroidered pashmina (the weather, you know) and (of course) a rolled umbrella. Don't forget the coordinated jewellery (plastic tortoiseshell necklace, silver pendant and silver-&-shell earrings).

On the way home last night I stopped off to say hi to a friend who's also been unwell, and he took one look at me and said: "So, back to work then, from the looks of it?"

Ah. Yes. It shows. Maybe not in terms of productivity, yet...

Meanwhile the season of mists, mellow fruitfulness and headaches is unfurling itself like a giant black umbrella (mine is brown and red plaid) over our line of vision. The crickets have vanished into thin air and become, belatedly, ants. Suddenly it's all about schedules and deadlines and commitments, all the accoutrements of the habit of productivity.

After a day and a half of it I can report that once again I feel sick every time I eat anything and am so tired I just kind of hurt. My bad eye is bothering me and I think, unfortunately, that it might be to do with the failure of the summer light - and also the poor lighting in the Tube and even the office (though it's not bad, for office lighting) to which I must now re-accustom myself. But it is a phased return, which means I'm not working again till Monday and can take a few days to recuperate before I have to make the Sunday lunch. I admit I'm a little bit worried, but I'm seeing the herbalist on Tuesday morning. Thank God! I'm counting on him to get me back.

It was actually, except for feeling rough, lovely to be back and see all my work friends, and talk about work things. There are new colleagues, too!

Meanwhile, much to do, in a laptop-on-sofa kind of way: a manuscript I really must get serious about, including things like permissions for quotes, and thinking about cover images. Many new poems started and now mouldering slightly in the damp. A competition to enter and other places to send off to. My wonderful in-depth interview with Ruth Fainlight (see, I make long hobbies of these pieces!) to wrap up.

PLUS, I've just been invited to write an essay on Anthony Hecht, for a book that's coming out in the USA next year! (It actually has a deadline. January. That's pretty steep, round these parts.) Any ideas, anyone, before I get reading? (The list of other contributors' topics pretty much covers everything I'd have thought of on my own: Hecht as a war poet, Hecht's use of rhyme and metre... well, maybe not. Maybe something about Dream?)