culpeper's herbal and the prophet habakkuk

on this day in 1872 kilvert meets the sawyer james jones.

'we fell to discourse... he said wild garlic, called jack-in-the-bush, is a famous pot herb. the old man's work was done, he put up his tools, took me home with him and lent me culpeper's herbal.'

jack-in-the-bush is now the name used for a jamaican healing herb (good for coughs and colds and wounds).

the plant james jones is referring to is now more commonly called  jack-in-the-hedge (garlic mustard) and (to be fair) there is quite a lot of it about at the moment. wild garlic is a name more commonly used for alium ursinum (though to be fair that's also a pot herb). 

culpeper's herbal (the book kilvert is given to help him in his botanising) was a famous guide to useful plants. culpeper lived for a while, and ran an apothecary, at a halfway house in spitalfields - hence probably the naming of a nearby pub). 

so is the dust settling from the drubbing by the electorate of labour and the conservatives?

the electorate are grumpy and impatient and expect their newly voted in parties to rapidly deliver something better - this is probably not possible. 

are things going to get better? with a war in the gulf going on? unlikely. that's petrol and gas and food prices driven up right there. and thus the cost of all goods that have to be transported and all premises that have to be heated. 

horsemouth has just finished reading the bird of the dawning by john masefield (and very good it was too).

now SPOILER ALERT. much concerns a prophet called ebenezer mudde (an alleged follower of the biblical prophet habakkuk) and his publishing operation and ministry at 27 seacole lane millwall. (as far as horsemouth can tell this is not a real address). 

habakkuk was a minor prophet and very much concerned with the end of the world. 

'O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear? or cry to you "violence!" and you will not save?'

yesterday in the afternoon a zoom beer with howard. they were both knackered and grumpy and finished it off after one. earlier a wander up the hill with the eggs (roughly 2.8 miles - up hill at first and then down hill thereafter). a friend was going off to see an orchestral performance of tubular bells - they asked alexa to play it, it also played hergest ridge (which horsemouth prefers). 

it's a darkish sort of morning. rain from wednesday it looks like. cold overnight the next few nights. 

'some of the noblest lives are unrecorded upon earth...'

'some of the noblest lives are unrecorded upon earth. they are not thought worthy among men, of being kept in mind. but they are recorded in a better place...' 

kilvert in his diary on this day in 1872. 

kilvert notes a blackbird caught dead in a trap and feels 'sick and sorrowful'. 

tomorrow he is encouraged in his botanising. 

the bird of dawning continues to go well. but it's not looking to good for the survivors of the shipwreck - in an open boat on high seas with the water having been discovered to be tainted. john masefield (the author) was bon in ledbury (which is reasonably nearby and whose railway station horsemouth will have passed through on the way back).

the stupidest war ever  (part 2)

following on from horsemouth's completely unjustified characterisation of the current gulf war as the stupidest war ever a friend  has objected that the war of  jenkins' ear was in fact the stupidest war ever. 

(horsemouth is indebted to his friend for this war - he'd never heard of it before - boom boom). 

captain jenkins's ear was allegedly severed by spanish coastguards in the caribbean in 1731 whilst they were searching his ship. a mere eight years later in 1739 this was considered a sufficient outrage to start a war over (but not an injury claim with claims-for-us). 

fighting formally ended 9 years later in 1748 with the treaty of aix-la-chapelle. 

historians, however, seem capable of finding economic reasons for the war and attach it (politically and historically) to the war of austrian succession. (another war horsemouth had not previously heard of). 

thus it may not actually be as stupid as the current gulf war because it may have made political and economic sense at the time. 

that it is a beautiful morning in the wilds

it's a beautiful morning in the wilds. earlier the sun was knocking at horsemouth's window demand entrance. horsemouth made it wait and wipe its feet. 

in the evening he listened to the mighty wave debb show 60. 

next time ( stupidest war ever)

 an entirely written in the morning blogpost.

that is because horsemouth was remiss in his blogging duties yesterday. he was (mostly) on the train travelling back from the wen to the wilds. for most of the journeys he pretended to sleep (the better to manage a mild but persistent hangover). '

killing time in hereford before the bus back out to the wilds horsemouth bought the bird of dawning by john masefield (a seafaring novel  in the century seafarers edition). it reads well.

it was good to see mike T and H and greg from detroit whom horsemouth last met in a windsor ontario shopping mall in about 1998. 

the counting will continue today for the results of the local elections held. various types of political bargaining will be deployed. 

meanwhile trump has been out bombing in iran (such is the nature of modern ceasefires). stupidest war ever pronounces horsemouth. 

today horsemouth gets back on top of the various tasks. 

eleven light city

horsemouth is late.

this is an entirely written in the afternoon blogpost. 

sweet earth flying (storm ending)

'thunder blossoms gorgeously above our heads,

great, hollow, bell-like flowers,

rumbling in the wind...

and the sweet earth flying from the thunder.'

- jean toomer, storm ending. 

it is the anniversary of the first day's recording on marion brown's sweet earth flying (1974) - the title of which is lifted from the jean toomer poem above.

meanwhile in 1872 kilvert is arguing with his friend latimer jones. it all gets a bit heated. 

'mrs. bevan said afterwards she feared we should have fought.'

horsemouth thanks;

(there follows a list of people who have liked or commented on his posts on facebook in the last while)

for their continuing attention to  his bullshit. 

he went for a walk on the common and found a tennis ball lost in the bushes. 

--------------------------------

ok it is just about 7am. in a bit horsemouth departs (to walk to the bus, to get the bus into hereford, to get the train to birmingham, to get the train to london etc.). horsemouth (you see) is making a flying visit to the city. 

there he will talk with friends. what will they talk about? probably politics. what will they say? that the country/ world is in a terrible state. that the rulers are incompetent bastards. that sort of thing. 

it's really less about the substance of their discussions rather that they meet. 

when's the bus out of pontrilas? 0940. so when should horsemouth set off? probably about 0830. 

ok so he's on the 1040 train to BHM. all is good. 

'no person ever wants to see their childhood home sold' (the drifting life of horsemouth)

yesterday. 

horsemouth wandered into ewyas harold to get some bread and post a letter. 

he wasn't convinced that the shop would be open (because it was a bank holiday). but it was and mission accomplished. 

in a way it is a relief to be able to do something active. 

anyway was soon time for the 13:00 news. (which he listened to as he typed this). 

horsemouth tried book divination 

he tried it with history and utopia and imagined communities  and frankly the results were scary rather than gnomic - history and utopia gave him tyranny concentrating into one big tyranny, imagined communities gave him the linguistic nationalisms of europe. 

in the booklet for the ecstatic music of alice coltrane turiyasangitananda sufiya botofasina (keyboard player with the ashram choir) says;

'no person ever wants to see their childhood home sold.'

this will have to do for a title. 

he watched the drifting life of himeshiro on youtube. 

the weather was surprisingly good and rain free (sunny even). 

in the night (well the morning) a dream about being in a van at a festival with too many issues of the WIRE magazine everywhere. 

a greyish, coolish morning. 

actually it's a beautiful morning with bright sunlight and drifting white seeds or pollen. 

horsemouth has a plan to escape to town

sunday there was a possible thunderstorm (but it doesn't seem to have shown up)  and horsemouth was feeling a bit anxious. 

in the afternoon of the sunday zoom beers with howard - he has the monday off  because of the may bank holiday (internartional workers' day etc.)  and so he could drink on a sunday with a clear conscience.  

two bottles of hobgoblin in his case, two bottles of butty bach in horsemouth's case. a discussion of the reading programme. 

a discussion of charles mingus' town hall concert (howard mentioned ah-um, black saint and the sinner lady, pithecanthropus erectus). horsemouth approved them all and then counter attacked with oh yeah, tijuana moods, and changes two.  

howard's next half term? broadly from the 22nd. 

horsemouth has a plan to escape to town (briefly).