it's yesterday evening
it's yesterday evening when horsemouth types this (as compared to the today when you will probably be reading this). all is good. it is still daylight out and he has locked up the chickens for the night (and fed and watered them before you ask).
he has spent the day (off and on) reading edouard louis' the end of eddy - his life is still terrible (but then again it's not actually as terrible as just about every other member of his family).
'she thought that she had made mistakes, that without meaning to she had closed the door on a better future... she didn't understand that her trajectory, what she would call her mistakes, fitted in perfectly with a whole set of logical mechanisms that were practically laid down in advance and non-negotiable.'
he wandered about on the common for a bit.
today
as will be. he will start working on learning plain hunt again. remind him about the eggs (he was going to take eggs). try to make an effort.
utopia parkway was a street in queens (where the artist joseph cornell lived).
it's a greyish morning. the bbc weather says it's going to clear and then be good all next week but then be rubbish the week after. hopefully the runner bean plants will be established by then.
he's been out to unleash the chickens. he has his coffee. he has had a letter (his savings seem to be holding up ok).