So I went to the Foyle's event called Modern Poets in Translation and I was glad to be there. The newest series of the journal which had been founded in 1965 by Ted Hughes, was launched by another famed poet and translator of German literature, David Constantine. He was a good-humoured gentleman who conducted the entire event with candour and smiles. I bought 2 poetry books.

I would like to talk about this reading but on a separate blog or post and on a different day.

There were interesting performances by published poets which made me think of many different things like lollipops and windmills.

I've decided that while this stays a lighthearted blog and one for my old acquaintances, I'd probably open another literary one shortly in Wordpress. It will showcase my creative writing. Of course, I would like to be published traditionally for the novel and if sandcastles could still soar in the air, then too, a children's book. There are several opportunities for a writer nowadays and I have been dwelling carefully on what I'd like to do.

Yesterday, I sat next to another poetess and translator of German literature, Ruth Ingram who was a delight. We made friends through congenial conversation and the drinking of wine during the interval and she has invited me to join her poetry group. I do feel enthusiastic about it for when I return to London at a slightly later date. But then, at the time when I put down roots, I will join many different things.

I'm flying once more to Dublin. So here I am now ferrying from Dublin to London in the same way once before, when you still hadn't known me friends, and when I used to fly from Melbourne to Sydney ever so often and once while on Virgin Blue on this Australian route, Sir Richard Branson had played games with us on the plane. It seems that travel cannot escape me no matter how hard I try to elude it and is destined to light up my path. There were also other places of course, East Africa and the Middle-East. Where will it be this time?

Today or rather yesterday, it appeared to be properly winter in London with the sun having hidden itself and this morning after leaving the travel agent's, I saw that many ladies were wearing hats. I can't remember where I put mine but before that I had a prettier one except that a strong gust of wind once swept it from my head and dumped it mischeviously into a muddly puddle somewhere near March Arch.

Perhaps I shall buy a new one in Dublin.

The Christmas shops in the department stores in Central London are starting up a buzz and the lights are going up in Oxford Street.

This is a poorly-written post. I shall write a better one tomorrow.