in first person

yesterday morning: a walk into the village to pick up some loaves of bread (as predicted)  

horsemouth makes it about a mile there and a mile straight back over the common. he couldn't do a run to the butcher's whilst he was at it because, being a sunday, it was shut. horsemouth may have suggested that on monday this will be possible (despite the forecast rain he cited as his reason for going) but ideally he would push it further along to another day. 

you may remember horsemouth enthusing about the new evening buses back from hereford 

at 8.30pm and 10.30pm that started at the beginning of september. yay! brilliant!

well that may be so but the road will be closed september 16th through to september 30th, 8.00pm to 6.00am. so horsemouth would guess that puts paid to the buses (for the time being). 

horsemouth was tempted out into an opinion in first person (slightly edited)

'my efforts have not always been crowned with success (it would be fair to say) but a number of times I have found good solid collaborators and these people have enabled me to do good work. 

I have since tried to be that collaborator for others. 

on the whole though I recognise the ‘getting no reward or being punished for it’ syndrome. a number of times now almost everything I did seemingly had to be either blocked or (if that failed) hushed up. 

at first I thought it was my working with anarchists (‘the tyranny of structureless’). 

my current thought is that the world is divided between the ‘introverts’ (for whom everything is too loud and scary and therefore must be stopped from happening) and the ‘extroverts’ (whose attitude is ‘turn down for what?’). in an entirely introvert world nothing would happen (other than decay). an entirely extrovert world would simply explode. 

to my collaborators I am truly grateful, they have enabled me to do my best work, the work of which I am truly capable, they have enabled me to see the mountaintop. but for my enemies I cannot grow loving kindness (they can fuck off and die).' 

horsemouth is concerned by a friend's funeral plans. hopefully it will all work correctly and he will be honoured and assisted on to the afterlife. 

after a brief period of sun it started raining

horsemouth wombled the eggs up the hill. the people he was visiting are back from holiday. 

then he vacuum cleaned round the kitchen and emptied the dead flies out of the strip light. his mum was also keen for him to walk into the village to get some more loaves of bread despite there still being an entire one in the freezer - he has attempted to postpone this task until monday (but he suspects he will get pestered into it on the sunday morning). 

he's been feeling a bit run down and stiff of late so the exercise will do him good. 

in a bit he will go out and see if he can entice the chickens up the banking to forage freely as opposed to hanging around the gate looking like they are being deprived of sustenance. 

it has occurred to horsemouth that he is not like the chickens up on the banking, he is like the chickens laying down in the dust by the gate waiting to be fed.

he picked some vegetables (runner beans and tomatoes) to assuage his anxiety and then... well he cracked open a beer ladies and gentlemen (because why not).  after a brief period of sun it started raining. 

'to replace creation' such is the role of alcohol figures marguerite duras. she drinks. she drinks heavily and consistently. eventually she has to stop. she stops several times. there's a battle with the d.t.'s. 

'I've spent whole summers at neauphle alone except for drink...' 

it is the chapters on writing that are amazing (blanchot gets two mentions and counting).  but they are amazing because they are embedded in the life, in the practicalities. 

the flood arrives

'every limit is a beginning as well as an ending' - george eliot, middlemarch. 

in bruno's dream by iris murdoch the flood arrives. the stamp collection is destroyed (the basis of patrimony and inheritance). the relationships of the main protagonists are rearranged. it is still not possible to tell where it is all going but it has a lot of the right ingredients for horsemouth. 

horsemouth went for a walk on the common. up to the top of the hill down to the well back by the seats in the middle. he bumped into the sheep (twice) and the ponies (once) but saw no dogwalkers etc. at the well a contractor was working on the drainage from the well and a path alongside it. earlier he could hear some builders were working on the new buildings on the right hand side going up the hill but he didn't see them. 

he seemed to have timed it well. 

in the morning he posted off some tracks he had recorded earlier to rob as proposals for far future village band tracks. they didn't seem to do it but one he sent subsequently did. 

in the afternoon - tea and he read (finishing off bruno's dream). 

the flood that's the thing. it is of course the mill on the floss that ends in flood (but even then there's a chapter after to tidy up lose ends). 

it's an el niño year so horsemouth expects a wet winter (one with lots of rain) and thus lots of floods. this could be a problem for the neighbouring village which flooded twice last winter. for the moment the landscape is still recovering from drought, it is still soaking up the rainfall, it hasn't started running off it yet. 

a passable morning out there. no sign of the flood yet. 

'if you're here with me in the end times...'

'if you're here with me in the end times... end of video times... catch you soon.'

- thrift-a-life/ bookpilled on his clothing side-hustle (now with new technology)

ok horsemouth spent another morning fucking around with the drains (hopefully he hasn't done more harm than good). at the end he dumped some drain cleaner down the main offender and then washed it down with some more water. he's since taken off all his clothing he was wearing in the debacle, had a shower and chucked the clothes in the washing machine.

there is a limited amount he can do. rather than try and fix it his probable goal should be to nurse the system along. 

failing that. hire some professionals. 

he had a headache all day (he'd been hoping that would clear). finally in the evening it seemed to have shifted. 

it is the morning. time to get back on the far future village band thing. rob aims at one track a day. 

'if you're here with me in the end times...' says the one. 

darn it! look at how stressed horsemouth is! he just forgot the coffee and has overboiled it. but, by way of compensation, now he has his coffee. 

enough entertainment (the dance of the golden rays)

'interesting situation. no internet. back off downstairs to try it again in a bit

horsemouth has his coffee. and as much digital entertainment saved on his various laptops as he has.'

horsemouth has typed this before. and once again it is true. 

it makes him anxious but in theory he has enough entertainment stored already (in books and CDs) to last him a lifetime and, if worst comes to worst, there's the tv and the radio (and hey! he could go an buy a newspaper). 

the day began (yesterday) - eggs to the crossroads and bins down the drive (recycling according to horsemouth's calculation). 

so far so good. horsemouth also did some mucking out of the hen shed also. 

ok so he's just sorted one possible source of anxieties. (he dares say he'll find some others soon). 

ok it's the morning. horsemouth wakes up with a headache. he downs two paracetamol.  remind him to go and pick up the bin from the bottom of the drive. later his mum goes into town. 

more work on the far future village band IV is going on far off in riogordo. three sailors  has turned into some kind of a march. there's a track called the dance of the golden rays. 

elevation and spiritual blessing

ok horsemouth has been picking some runner beans, some tomatoes, some damsons and some plums. this has cheered him up a bit. he was feeling slightly headachey and anxious. with the damsons and the plums horsemouth is not exactly sure which is which - more of one and (in the end) less of the other (sod's law) - anyway less than last year or previous recent years.  

perhaps he could put more effort into picking some apples. 

he should really get some broad beans in so they can overwinter and become earlies. he's put in some peas in the hope that he'll get some before winter arrives. he might hedge his bets and have some in the greenhouse too. 

today the anniversary of the recording of two more tracks from the ash grove gig in 1972 - elevation and spiritual blessings. 

horsemouth wakes up anxious as to where he will sleep when he comes up to visit the wen. he has time to sort it out (but in classic horsemouth worry about it when you can't fix it he's worrying about it first thing in the morning). 

well it's a beautiful morning (blue skies and sunlight) and the coffee tastes good. let him reorientate a little about what is good. ok it's clouding over now but the weather forecast doesn't look too bad. 

he has tried re-recording a version of tri martalod but he's still not feeling it. maybe he should steal some lyrics from renaud's trois matelots. 

anyway he's very pleased with night walk as the whistling tune is now called. 

a night walk beset by ghosts and random fears

yesterday

already a busy day. sudden unauthorised morning phonecall to book a medical appointment. much wailing and gnashing of teeth. eventually it seems to have all come together painlessly (excepting the wailing and teeth gnashing) but we won't know for sure until the appointment is done. 

phew. this means of doing business is exhausting (and there is another thing horsemouth could do with getting out of the way). 

in the afternoon  

the first arrival of a track for the far future village band IV - and great it sounds too! (ok let him listen to it again... ah!!!). 

here's horsemouth whistling bravely as he goes for a night walk beset by ghosts and random fears. as soon as horsemouth can he will play it to you. 

a second arrival - horsemouth is less keen, he will try redoing his bits. they've got time. 

earlier a walk on the common (in daylight). bump into a neighbour walking her two dogs. 

later a battle with something google. (horsemouth does hope he can post this tomorrow). seems like it won't let him post up photos without signing in (again). bizarre. (ok he's got it sorted - he thinks). 

the morning dawns rainy and grey. horsemouth feeds the chickens and takes the milk over to the garage.