roses and gold

wow! horsemouth has just had a meltdown. who would have thought ordering blinds could be so annoying. 

horsemouth is trapped in no mobile phone signal hell - this makes ordinary commercial transactions an utter pain in the arse. 

horsemouth in 1st world problems hell.

horsemouth is resorting to drink as we speak. sings 'hello drink my old friend...'

(a little while later) no worries. horsemouth is rapidly resuming equanimity and the world is assuming a rosy, beneficent disposition (to quote drugstore cowboy). this may be the prompt horsemouth needs to a) change banks b) stop trying to facilitate every  wish of every person he may meet. 

ok it is a rainy grey morning. horsemouth is looking forward to the end of his stint in the wilderness. he is frankly exhausted and has started making bad decisions that his arse doesn't have the energy to cover. 

this is always a good point to stop at (or indeed before). 

in an ideal world everything is still cushty and can still roll on. horsemouth suspects he is not in the ideal world. 

'roses and gold' sings robbie basho in what could be a perfect husker du song. 

ok preliminary investigations seem to indicate that everything is still ok (and horsemouth has wandered into the nearby village and purchased a jar of pickles and the bomb squad were not called).