'once,' said the mock turtle at last, with a deep sigh, 'I was a real turtle.'.

horsemouth awakes after slightly not enough sleep to a pessimistic mood (this is what happens when he drinks and stays out late).  he did however sleep soundly as a result of walking back from stratford (the last but one DLR whisked him there and then he spent some time looking futilely for a bus while the transport hub shut down around him). thereafter horsemouth was on shanks's pony  as people used to say. 

the giant pink supermoon followed him home across the fields. 

it was a very pleasant evening round enza's with martin. there was food (with desert), there was wine (montepulciano and chianti - both reds). horsemouth walked down; a)  to kill time and b) to give himself a chance to buy the wine. 

martin was on good form (it's a long time no see). he had news of minty. 

yesterday horsemouth practiced a little singing and playing and tried to make choices about repertoire. he's a little bored with his songs and a little apprehensive. normally horsemouth gets people to sing (and howl) along - how will this be received post covid? 

himself and enza spent some time trying to fit some words of hers to a guitar part by suke (whether it will pass muster with suke horsemouth can't say).