horsemouth is looking across at the chickenwire himself and his brother put up. it ruins a perfectly good fence he now realises. (well actually a lot of the uprights are a bit rotted and could probably do with being replaced).
a soft and gentle rain falls through the sunlight. today a brighter and drier day (says the bbc weather). today the spanish elections. spain speaks (of madrid rather than valencia as horsemouth has said) has gone to hide in portugal.
last night a good heart to heart with his brother. this horsemouth spent on bemoaning the strange inconsistency of medical provision - some of it so good as to be almost miraculous, some of it so bad as to be almost sadistic. horsemouth's brother was of the opinion that they were always playing for time with an 81 year old man with stage 4 cancer.
we move into a strange new world. the quality of the grief changes as the quality of sunlight through clouds. horsemouth still hears noises in the house he thinks may be his dad (but they cannot be him because his dad is dead).
(sorry horsemouth is fascinated by possibly the smallest rabbit he has ever seen scampering about the other side of the chicken coop).
earlier a chat with howard (via the magic of zoom). conversely both the TVs seem to have stopped working.
soon enough winter (which can be harsh out here, there can be a distinct shortage of daylight). the south is not just more prosperous (opined horsemouth to his brother) but sunnier too. this to horsemouth's way of thinking is a virtue (but it may become not so as time passes).
bookpilled/ thrift-a-life is loving it in mexico. he's found the hotel where he is staying has a book stash and is having a burrow.
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