'otis, we’re in east nashville now. we didn’t get here by making career decisions.'
- peter cooper to otis gibbs, 2005 or so.
'the establishment of the empire of man on earth' - henry miller, the air-conditioned nightmare.
horsemouth is rapidly coming round to the o(pi)nion that anyone who ma(y) visit will have to be gifted a ma(rrow).
similarly there look to be a ton of berries (perhaps not literally but still). tomorrow is forecast to be very hot (er. but not as hot as spain/ portugal/ italy etc. 46C new record for june for spain)
nonetheless horsemouth will have to start on the gooseberries soon (they have evil spines on them and there are plenty of nettles round them).
we have just passed the 11th anniversary of musicians of bremen's first ever duo gig (in a ayesha's basement living room).
it is the morning of the day that is supposed to be hot. horsemouth has got in a bout of watering early (before it heats up).
substackers got to substack
nine, ten, years ago horsemouth was doing lots of reading about utopian communes and suchlike (it is a theme he plans to revisit now that he is out here in the wild).
a walk into ewyas harold, down the drive, up dicks pitch and then continuing using the shady pathway along the edge of the common (too muddy to use in winter). probably two miles all told.
the purpose?
to pick up a few beers for himself (his brother had drunk all horsemouth's beers during his visit leaving just three ciders and a bottle of stout), and to pick up a few 0% beers for his mum.
and to pick up a loaf of bread also (he ended up with 4 bread rolls instead).
it's a hot day out there
horsemouth (the prudent) is waiting for it to cool down/ the garden to go into shade so he can go out and do the watering (and perhaps a little more weeding). the growth has been prodigious in the week he has been away. horsemouth is trying to get back on top of it all.
gardening and food
the spring onions and the carrots (in fact anything he planted directly into the soil excepting the potatoes) have been a thoroughgoing disappointment - he's been trying to weed gently round the few that have come.
nonetheless seeing the growth in the marrow plants has encouraged him.
there are some cucumbers he could lift from the greenhouse (sadly himself and his mum are not cuke fans particularly). no tomatoes yet, but remind him to get the new tomato plants in and the 6 remaining runner bean plants also.
one of the pepper plants in the conservatory is giving peppers, the other shows no sign of them.
he should lift some of the spinach (before it starts to bolt) and in fact he did, together with some runner beans that he has just eaten for dinner. tomorrow they should eat the peas he picked and shelled already (before they start to roll).
the beetroot are still a bit small.
monday is supposed to be the hottest day with the weather breaking wednesday and thursday. this evening it is a fair bit cooler.
horsemouth is being boring - he's neither at the leigh on sea folk festival nor is he watching glastonbury. you'll have to tell him about it.
a cool morning (but as we all know that proves nothing).
an entirely written in the morning blogpost (well nearly)
here in the countryside a greyish morning and a more moderate day overall.
so horsemouth travelled back by train.
but he got the train times wrong (don't ask him how).
result he was hanging out at paddington for longer than expected (him with his dirty great 12 string guitar case). he got into a chat with a cretan musician off to play a gig in cornwall (sadly not glastonbury he said) called pav (or whatever the cretan equivalent of paul is) who had his bass with him.
his main thing is a more rock thing called balothizer.
on the train horsemouth got into a long chat with a finnish woman called kooka (horsemouth may have miss-heard it doesn't seem to be on a list of popular finnish girl's names), she worked as a lawyer, had two daughters, and was off to pick up her camper van to drive to a retreat for the weekend.
she had a guitar at home in a corner. she wanted to learn to play it so she could play round the campfire. horsemoutht thought this was an excellent idea. she liked scottish and irish and celidh music (horsemouth recommended anne briggs).
she got off at pershore .
at worcester shrub hill a cheese and pickle sandwich. a train to foregate street another on to hereford.
at hereford his brother picked him up in the car.
everything seems to have grown voraciously in horsemouth's absence. there were marrows (horsemouth gave his brother one), runner beans, cucumbers, spinach, beetroot, the potatoes seem to be doing well (but horsemouth cannot really tell because they are underground).
similarly with the fruit - the cherries are gone already (looted by the squirrels), the strawberries seem mostly to have survived, the damsons are coming along, the gooseberries seem to be doing well.
horsemouth went with his mum to pick the strawberries. they then went to pick the cherries (but they were gone already).
and (later on) apples and pears.
his mum has a copy of the hereford times already so at some point horsemouth will wander into the village in search of beer (his brother has drunk all the supplies excepting the cider and a bottle of stout). perhaps a zoom call with howard later.
over in far off leigh-on-sea it's the leigh folk festival. horsemouth would have gone but the timetables didn't match up and (to be frank) the festival line-up looked a little thin. he only really wanted to see the owl service and fran foote and wasn't sure that he would make sufficient fortuitous discoveries. had he been around he would have gone (nevertheless).
ah. it's a cloudy day and a breeze is blowing (this is the thursday we are talking about).
horsemouth has just been up to islington for a ritual called the banking of the cheque. this time, unlike monday, when the branch was closed for reclamations, horsemouth successfully banked the cheque.
horsemouth is of course trying not to add to his cultural kipple, that he will, eventually, have to move, so no shopping. he allowed himself a look in the powerscroft road book box (if only to see if his offerings of the previous evening had been accepted - they had).
in a bit he plans another visit.
the books he is keeping and what he is disposing of are somewhat random. some books that he has never got round to reading, he will be taking, some he will be disposing of.
friday he will be returning to the wilds. mostly so he can get in a chat with his brother. his original reason for going back on the friday was that the buses ran up the valley from pontrilas on a friday afternoon (but not on a saturday afternoon). if horsemouth was carting back anything large himself such a bus would be helpful. but it looks like his brother will give him a lift back from town so that reason has popped and gone.
he has a reason for being up and away earlyish - to avoid the heat of the day - plus he always gets antsy if he knows he has to travel.
and it's the morning of the friday. horsemouth has successfully killed time ahead of his travelling. he feels a bit bad about this (but various people weren't available and blah - the heat kills a lot of things in the day and work eats up people's time).
he's just trying to work out what he should take back with him. he thinks he's leaving the wheeled suitcase here (for next time) and taking the 12 string (in its huge case) back with him.
his plan (such as it is) is to sit in the wilds and make music
horsemouth has a blogpost that he wrote yesterday. he'll keep it til he sees how he feels about it.
above three songs opening with ian buchanan's version of the reverend gary davis's winding boy. he taught suni mcgrath. horsemouth is interested in this, seeing him as a point of connection between the reverend gary davis school and the american primitives.
so far this morning a cool morning (but that doesn't mean very much)
horsemouth is struggling again
after his almost perfect (re)introduction to hackney friday night, his pub sessions with john, graham and howard, a meeting with colin (and james) and a great chat with enza, horsemouth is actually feeling a bit deflated and miserable. he just thinks it is classic the day after and as soon as it has cooled off enough so that he can go for a wander and cook some food etc. he will be fine.
he will rediscover his enthusiasm.
he's taken a bag of clothes to the recycling.
he's been getting boxes and bags and packing things (mainly books). in a bit he will go out again in search of boxes. (he's done it - another box acquired and books being put in it).
he has handwashed his shorts (they are a bit cleaner).
john fromporto is back in porto (horsemouth just got the message).
horsemouth is getting anxious about two things
the one thing other people should be able to cover. they will almost certainly be there to answer the door on the necessary date (they just won't say so yet).
the other thing is only a problem in very specific circumstances (and to be frank he can probably just pay to fix it).
the thing he maybe should be worried about he is not worried about (smart people are on it).
there is stuff horsemouth should probably talk about but he won't (as you know).
he is, of course, slightly in mourning. he spent 40 years in london, he likes the vibe, he likes the blend and mix, he likes the social opportunities, but it will not save him (his salvation is in his own hands). it is time to be off onto the next thing. he cannot justify the expense of keeping a room on in london when he can barely get down and use it. (the main thing it is saving him from is having to figure out how to transport his books).
it's the morning. horsemouth is gingerly inspecting his head for signs of a hang over. he thinks he has been lucky again. (or it may be that modern beer is just kinder than its predecessors).
last night beers with john and graham. horsemouth hasn't been in the pembury tavern for years. (oh dear. reports are that horsemouth was singing in the pub - he was clearly drunker than he thought)
on the way over (cutting through the pembury estate) an elderly rasta flyered them. winston reedy was the only name horsemouth recognised. ah he was inthe cimarons.
in the day a meeting with colin and then up to the hub cafe to meet up with john. they set off to wander round the canal system but were intercepted by a phonecall from enza eventually meeting her back at the hub cafe after some confusion (horsemouth's fault).
then back home. horsemouth cooked diner (using a packet of risotto john's mum had given him) and then they killed some time before wandering out for beers.
nice moment in the turkish corner shop this morning. old black ladies walking in good morning, good morning being greeted as auntie by the young dude behind the counter - good morning auntie (etc.), hungover polish girl wanders in dzień dobry, horsemouth replied dzień dobry, him, the girl and the dude behind the counter smile.
