a big change in the weather

there's been a big change in the weather. the skies have gone grey. a damp coldness rules over all. soon thunderstorms (apparently). flash flooding, weltende  horsemouth thinks he's safe (he's up on a hill).  as horsemouth put it (rather inelegantly) it's due to piss it down anyway. thunder rolls around the skies. 

horsemouth us up (importuned by the cats oreo and rosie). his dreams are forgotten. something about german anna/ german anya.

yesterday horsemouth said hi to the neighbours.  he went for a quick walk in the forest (the clearing is being well used, lots of people are meeting up en plein air). at night he looked out of the attic window towards the centre and down towards docklands - the red lights of the cranes shimmered in the distance.  

horsemouth has his coffee (it can be done). 

last night (finding nothing on the tv to his taste) he retired to bed early and read more of m.john harrison's viriconium tetralogy/ quartet. the city is still in the grip of the plague but at the first sign of sunshine the people are out celebrating. and in real life people are bored with coronavirus, they want to be out in the pubs and at the coast having fun. 

horsemouth has entered into a strange state of bargaining with himself. if he stays alone for one day he can go and do something less than entirely safe another. 

yesterday he wandered up wood street in search of the charity shop run by the old indian man and the chinese lady. it seems to have gone. he went up to the allotment - he always likes opening the gate and emerging from the forest into the straight paths and ordered squares stretching up the hill (it reminds him of a shot from a film version of alice). 

the next two, maybe three days are due to be a wash out (but hey it frees him up from the obligation to do the watering up on the allotment).  

today he's supposed to be off to howard's. he awaits developments. if they are planning to make music he will nip back to his main domicile to pick up a guitar (but which one?).