'we all remember that time...' (year of the fire horses)

yesterday in the morning horsemouth was out for a walk

first  a circulation round the north circular. then the william morris gallery, walthamstow oxfam, salvation army. at the william morris an exhibition on liberty fabrics and their designers. 

books

at the salvation army and the oxfam there were books he could have bought (but then again he has a lot of books already. a lot of books he needs to take better care of). 

he settled on 1974's the memoirs of a survivor 

(doris lessing salvation army 50p).

'we all remember that time. it was no different for me than for others. yet we do tell each other over and over again the particularities of the events we shared, and the repetition, the listening, is as if we are saying. 'it was like that for you too?'' 

so it begins. it is strange. flip flopping from magical realism and seas and sea creatures to society collapsing, hooligans in the streets and a magical child (apparently based on jenny diski)

horsemouth's copy is a battered picador with a photo of julie christie on the front cover in the movie that was made of it. 

pens 

he bought some pens as well, good but expensive ones, so that he can get on with actually writing  (if the mood should  take him). 

horsemouth has his plans for tomorrow 

a walk first thing (but first a train ride and then a walk), then an art exhibit, then food and possibly beer after back out east.  

for friday there's something but he doesn't know for sure that it will happen (time will tell).

saturday afternoon  a wander around with minty et al. 

ok horsemouth was hoping that he was out of the anxiety (but he's still in it). phew. horsemouth has got to be honest, the winter has kicked his arse. he's a bit ragged. 

it is the year of the horse. it runs now until february the 6th 2027. the people born in that year are fire horses so more impulsive than usual. 

an account of his journey

ok so a bit of a trip back in time.

caution. horsemouth is going to give you an account of his journey. 

he caught the bus at 0920. it came from a different direction from the usual. then to pontrilas then to hereford bus station. at hereford railway station the train was already waiting. horsemouth opted for the via worcester route (despite the near 50 minute wait at worcester). 

the smart people will tell him it would have been better to go via birmingham new street but there was a landslide on the line between worcester and birmingham and replacement buses and all that kaboodle.

he used the wait at worcester to go down to the cathedral precincts again (walking past a number of pretty cafe's and pubs in the side streets, it must be great in summer). he looked desultorily in two charity shops. 

so now he's on the 1212 out of foregate street getting into paddington at around 1423. then he will be journeying across the wen. he gave up his seat so a family could sit together, he pointed out to a girl that she'd left one of her phones behind. 

so he read the first story bride michael in the stories of robert blythe, one of his hereford purchases. he has plans to get around of few second hand bookshops on his visit (and around some book boxes if he can find any). he has brought a small collapsible bag to help transport his swag. he should probably call in at the old homestead to pick up anything that has survived the wreck. mainly he has come back to visit people. he's thinking he'll make more of an effort to get into town to visit the art. 

oxford already. 

ok horsemouth is hiding out in highams park. he is in the great wen. 

he thinks tomorrow (a wednesday) a wander round the local(ish) area - perhaps over to the william morris museum and the sally army. 

thursday a wander round with TG and then with howard. 

paul clark on monday. 

so he's up. there's a tangerine cat in a tree. 

the theory today is that horsemouth is off on holiday

the 17th of february, in 1872 in kilvert land, the tale of a forged will at vron ddu.  

the forgery is discovered and one of the forgers flees to america.

politics 

horsemouth has no idea where it is all going (and neither does anyone else he suspects). what will the results be of the various splits out of reform? not a lot he thinks - the name recognition is with farage (toad of toad hall) and then whatever party he is in (reformobexitoukip). 

in the triumvirate, the 3-headed god that you cast your vote on; 

your candidate - the party - the leader of the party

it doesn't matter who your candidate is - they could be a 17 year old or an ex-tory minister - the recognition is with farage and then reform (and in that order).

would people vote reform if it wasn't farage? (if it was back to tice for example?) probably not. or not as much. 

but farage has nothing to offer but civic nationalism (aka, racism) and a warmed up thatcherism. what thatcher did can not be redone. similarly what blair, brown, cameron, osborne (and the rest of that sick crew) did cannot be easily undone - in any event  the new labour/ neoliberalism world ended with the brexit vote and we are onto the next thing (gawdelpus). 

the maurice glasman interview is interesting. prior to watching it horsemouth had him pegged as a villain. the label blue-labour (or socially conservative labour) does not help, it is really much more about labour/ the working class and where the working class are, rather than where the labour party membership (and leftist creatures like horsemouth) would wish them to be.

the scale of the may wipeout just got bigger.

a lot rides on gorton and denton. matt goodwin seems to be more of an ethno-nationalist than a civic nationalist and that may count against him in an urban constituency. 

ok the theory today is that horsemouth is off on holiday - but he's not quite sure when he's going yet or how he's going to make it to hereford or abergavenny (depending on time and the best route) to get the train. he wants to be sure reinforcements are on their way before he heads off. 

looks like the route through birmingham is out (landslide onto the tracks between worcester and droitwich). that may make getting away earlier important. if he could get out the door early there's a bus. similarly last thing there's a bus. otherwise it's a walk to pontrilas. 

there would be a lift in but that means arriving in london later. (and so on)

'came back in rain' (horsemouth is ready for his holiday)

'after luncheon and a cold rain storm I started to walk to llan thomas. as I went up the long lands pitch a glorious sun burst, broke over mountain valley and river, and I hailed it as a good omen...

... came back in rain.' 

- the reverend kilvert, diaries, on this date in 1872.

kilvert misses daisy (the object of his visit) but borrows a book (thus giving him a reason to return another day to return it). the book is father ignatius' brother placidus. a book about founding monastic orders (in particular llantony priory - not far from kilvert or horsemouth).

ok a cock up with the garage door. horsemouth had it looking not too bad but then, while attempting to fix it, he has made it worse.  (he was literally screaming with frustration) it's a two person job he reckons. 

he got lucky the first time and then he undid that luck this time. 

horsemouth was feeling anxious and miserable. and then he cheered up. and then there was some bollocks with the fire not lighting properly and pretty soon horsemouth was properly fucked off again. he thinks he's over anxious and over tired and just a bit bored and fucked off (mostly with the weather).  

horsemouth proposes to go away on holiday and leave it for someone else to deal with. mind his guilt.

tuesday seems to be the day with sunshine. today and monday look rubbish and in fact after tuesday the weather looks pretty rubbish out in the wilds. in the wen it is similar (but monday 23rd seems decent).  

so horsemouth is off visiting and travelling 

thursday he thinks he's meeting up with howard. friday with enza and crew. the week is half term for howard (the week is half-term for loads of people) but still he's working the monday and the tuesday. 

thereafter howard is back to the grind and horsemouth will be continuing his visit to the wen until the friday. horsemouth plans to see people. to pick up a music notebook he left behind and such like. bookshops/ book-boxes - these he plans to visit. (horsemouth has been very low on consumption of late). 

it's the morning and horsemouth is up early. he slept well having eventually sorted out his head. he needs a holiday.  

there are blue skies and there is sunshine (it's a bit of a shock)

there are blue skies and there is sunshine (it's a bit of a shock).

it is quite cold though. horsemouth's plan is to go and muck out the hen shed and then at some point he will womble the eggs up the hill (because it is probably better to do it today rather than do it tomorrow as it were). if he has any spare energy he'll start potting stuff up in the greenhouse or digging over the garden to put some compost in. 

in the evening maybe a zoom call with howard. his mum will be busy with the rugby. 

at the moment (as he types this) he has a cup of tea and call feel the sun on his feet (and he's typing this).

he's just had to nip out to turn off a tap that he'd partially opened whilst it was frozen (and then failed to turn off properly). the water sparkled in the sunshine (that's how he knew).

the hen shed and the front wall of the garage are quite damp - he thinks that's the cause of the electrical problems with them. at the moment though he can't see the blown fuse or tripped circuit breaker. he's going to leave them to dry out (if the weather will let him) and see if that improves things. 

the lights in the hen shed are not so important right now - the chickens are laying well, we are rolling into spring when there will be more daylight to be had. the electricity to the garage has two real uses - it powers the spare fridge that his mum keeps the milk in and it powers a motion sensor activated light on the front of the garage. 

now the spare fridge will become useful (when the weather heats up). 

there is an underground cable that runs over to the garage. horsemouth thinks the hen shed is on a spur off the domestic electricity circuit (the power cable is suspended in the air and emerges from the attic). 

in the afternoon/ evening a battle with the garage door (it's old and fucked is horsemouth's diagnosis). a pleasant zoom beers session with howard (he's reading the god of small things having read carmilla). some confusion with TESCO. 

all problems resolved horsemouth listens to music and (because the ten o'clock news is delayed) goes to bed early. he finishes off station eleven (having told howard about it). 

the morning. it is rainy and horrible. horsemouth feeds the chickens. some of the hardier ones have come out of the shed for an explore. 

after a number of disasters on that front over the years

'yesterday we heard the horrible news from india that the governor-general lord mayo had been stabbed in the back and killed by a fanatic convict in the andaman islands.' 

- francis kilvert, diaries, 14th february 1872. 

you see this happened on the 8th february. kilvert heard about it on the 13th but didn't make a note of it in his diary. this was presumably because he went out to the rifle volunteer concert at the national schoolroom in hay that night. there he saw his beloved (so he spends a lot of time writing about that). 

normally horsemouth does not celebrate february 14th as st. valentine's day (after a number of disasters on that front over the years) but as let's kill captain cook day.

tomorrow no kilvert but thereafter a fair run out towards the end of february. 

fahey week (a preparation of the ground)

on the 22nd of february fahey week will begin again (with john fahey's death day).

it lasts out until february 28th (fahey's birthday and robbie basho's death day). 

last night another dave webb technodub show 'pirates and dolphins (appear in the distance)' remarked horsemouth (and then of course it moved on again).

saturday (today) cold but sunny

or at least not raining. horsemouth might have to get out and prepare the ground (and suchlike). 

outside it's the golden hour. there's been a frost. horsemouth has his coffee. 

today sunshine. possibly monday sunshine. 

friday 13th (first friday the 13th of the year)

horsemouth has done the walk into ewyas harold (and he didn't fall over in the mud - yay!).

he's just been stacking logs into the shed. he thinks they are too damp to come good (but who knows, certainly not your mule). 

once again an automated phonecall from the dentist - does it need to be replied to?

horsemouth gonged off the bell ringing - he was feeling run down after shifting and stacking the logs. it means there will be a month long gap in the bell-ringing by the time he gets back.  

it's the first friday 13th of the year

it being a 28 day february there will also be a friday13th in march and then another one later on in the year (november). horsemouth thinks that's the most misfortune you can get in any one year - though in a leap year you can get 3 friday the 13ths in the first 7 months (which would seem like more concentrated misfortune). 

it's a misty morning. in a bit horsemouth gets his mum a cup of coffee, there's a visit from the plumber due. 

his reading of station eleven  progresses. the georgian flu collapses technological society. the resulting world is something like the survivors - we are with a touring arts troupe (how do they feed themselves? do others feed them?).  the apocalypse comes while waiting at an airport. 

ah there was an american tv show version of it. various characters have been omitted and the plot has been tidied up. interestingly enough the production of it was disrupted by covid (how's that for bad luck?)