garden party

'if you don't think climate change is damaging the world try malaga airport at ten on a summer's evening...' 

it's the 28th august 2005 and monty don is having a garden party or rather, in his absence, his garden has had a party. (monty's point above is less about climate change and more about over-tourism). 

'the cardoons and hostas had been terribly ravaged by slugs. bindweed, thistles and nettles nestled insouciantly with their carefully cultivated cousins...' 

monty (montagu) don and his wife have been working on the garden since they bought the house in 1991 'a derelict house with a two acre field.' monty is a writer who gardens/ a gardener who writes. 

so  much for horsemouth's writing from yesterday.

from here on in entirely written in the morning.  

horsemouth has been chopping the creeper and ivy off the front of the house (but first some photos). and he brought the recycling bin back up the drive. he has pretty much excused himself watering on the basis of rain. 

the starting point for the growth was about half way up the house - the main aim is to stop it growing into the chimney pots (horsemouth has thus caught it just in time).  ideally he would have caught it before it got up onto the roof tiles. 

the bits further up the chimney will require a longer ladder (or horsemouth to lean out of the window). not all sides of the house are similarly afflicted. 

tonight the wave debb show live from new river studios 8-10pm. in the day horsemouth will finish cutting back the creeper on the sides of the house. he may wander the eggs up the hill. 

'thunder blossoms gorgeously...' (and up with the lark)

'thunder blossoms gorgeously above our heads.

great, hollow, bell-like flowers,

rumbling in the wind,

stretching clappers to strike our ears . .

full-lipped flowers

bitten by the sun

bleeding rain

dripping rain like golden honey—

and the sweet earth flying from the thunder.'

- jean toomer, storm ending. 

last night a moon low in the trees.

early this morning, a thunder storm. pretty much as toomer describes it.

out there now, misty, grey, raining. (horsemouth is excused watering. it looks as if watering will never be needed again)

kilvert is winding down to leave clyro. monty don, on the other hand, offers us a year in his garden at ivington (near leominster), pots and walls (he's bad at remembering to water the plants in pots).  

horsemouth does 7am but he doesn't do up with the lark these days. monty don is an up early type. 

ok so horsemouth has a chunk he wrote yesterday which he may use later (or he may bin it off or exile it to goodreads so that he can have an entirely written in the morning blogpost (except for the toomer poem). 

sun ship (a narrative that accounts for its own production)

it is the anniversary of the recording in 1965 of sun ship by john coltrane and the classic quartet - it is the moment before take off into interstellar space. a week later coltrane will record first meditations with this band and then discard it only to re-record it later with pharoah sanders and rashid ali.

soon the embers and the autumn equinox but first, probably, rain. 

'a narrative that accounts for its own production'

so the burgeoning field of autofiction is described. 

all these diaries. all these autobiographies. 

all those ghostwriters labouring below decks (wax in their ears). 

burnham has backtracked on using housing funds to generate only social homes. like starmer and reeves he has tied his own hands. 

horsemouth has started on the separation by christopher priest which is excellent so far (p.74 at first sitting). horsemouth has the gollancz paperback edition with the twin boys on the cover.

the morning

well it's raining out there. horsemouth had almost come to believe that it was no longer possible. 

he's up to page 238 with the separation - a novel that keeps looking like it is going to resolve nicely in an ian mcewan sort of way but then throws you a curveball. none of the testimonies can be made to add up. not all the stories can be true - can they?

the almshouses of hereford (the plan to get into town and how it went)

the almshouses of hereford (no.1 in a series)

price's almshouses and chapel 90-112 whitecross road

founded 1665.

this wasn't the purpose of his visit to hereford (his purpose was books) but seeing as he was there he took a few photos. it may take him a while longer to sort out the detail there being many slightly more famous william prices (including one who was the originator of our modern habits of cremation). 

horsemouth used the old railway line a fair bit at the start - it would have brought him out near to the hospice shop (but he'd diverted off by that point). 

books - accessions diary 24th august 2026

- the foot of clive (john berger) - £2.49 oxfam

- the separation (christopher priest) - £1.00 hospice

- in a lonely street: film noir, genre, masculinity (frank krutnik) - £1.00 hospice

- the ivington diaries (monty don) - £1.00 hospice

this being a great 'we went bankrupt and started gardening' story. horsemouth may even use it to aid his own diarising.

as you can see the hospice served him very well

indeed he could have picked up another beautiful and beautifully illustrated monty don (around the world in 80 gardens that sort of thing) for another quid but his head wasn't quite in the game yet. he got the monty don for his mum (honest). he thinks it will go down well.

he read a little of foot on the bus, a little of a lonely street before bed last night, the separation  may take him a while to get to. ivington he read the introduction. 

soon we re-enter the embers. soon after the autumn equinox. 

this morning a dream about a woman saying colin and a dream about living in a big party venue squat with sten. 

today a plan to get into town

during his eggs up the hill mission horsemouth paused to photograph some more corrugated iron structures. 

here we have a dutch barn (uk type) as assembled by f.h. dale of leominster (who, interestingly enough, are still going). 

horsemouth was listening to roy scranton talking about the dark mountain manifesto and paul kingsnorth. ('it comes in waves'). it's an interview hobbled by poor sound quality (and a certain amount of mutual incomprehension). 

later horsemouth watched much of sorcerer, the william friedkin remake of the wages of fear, four convicts transport sweaty nitro-glycerine 200 miles along treacherous roads (and all with a great tangerine dream soundtrack). 

and so to bed.

today a plan to get into town. 

it's not that bad (it only makes the story better)

well it was the birthday of claude debussy and of john lee hooker (again)

a wander round the common (counterclockwise).

to celebrate horsemouth went for a wander round the common. up the hill to the viewpoint then down to st. james's well then down by brimfield etc. emerging through someone's garden just up the road from his mum's.  he should have taken the camera.

a few days ago he took the camera up onto the common and attempted a few shots of corrugated iron buildings etc. near there. 

it's not that bad (it only makes the story better) 

so remarks the ukrainian girl (well at least the second part of it). whenever things got bad she would remark that it only makes the story better. and eventually there she is, in her house in the wilds with a functioning roof and electricity and heating (and a garden even) but the real problem is the water. there's no well, there's no water source, she is dependent on captured rainwater and that is failing due to global warming. 

indomitable she continues. ordering tankers full of water to fill up her alhibi (al jibes) or underground water storage cistern that formerly would have been filled by rainwater. (apparently they are big in mexico too). 

horsemouth started on a review of the youtubers he watches, maybe he should finish it off, or more likely, make a series. 

today (at some point) eggs up the hill. he may take the camera out and try to photograph some barns etc. 

monday horsemouth has a plan to get into town. 

yesterday, today, and tomorrow

yesterday 

horsemouth was hiding indoors while some work commissioned by his mother was performed outside. 

he is attempting to find snippets of good sense in his blogposts and transfer them to his substack in a fashion he has previously described as cut-and-shut. 

in the day he set off onto the common for a wander but then remembered that his mum didn't have a copy of the hereford times (with its very necessary TV guide) - so off to the village he went (and back again).

today

horsemouth doesn't know what he will do. he has a bit of a cold. he will post this up and then have a think and see if he has anything more to say. 

it was cold out there. horsemouth was wearing trousers and he wished he had a jacket. he left the conservatory door closed (so that it might heat up). 

it's one of those days again. on this date in previous years revolutionary students burnt down the british consulate in china during the cultural revolution. 

it's a saturday. because it is a saturday the health centre is shut. sunday it will be shut. monday it will also be shut (because it is a bank holiday). ok no monday it will be open - next monday is a bank holiday. 

oh dear mick luggy has died. horsemouth liked him a lot and owes him a fair bit. he can only think of one disagreement. he was smart and kind and will be missed.