horsemouth is having a listen to the somewhat hazy organic music society of don cherry (and various other collaborators). yesterday was a hot and sticky day and horsemouth was not inspired to do very much. a friend noted that the 'music matches the weather beautifully'.
things are more complicated than horsemouth imagined.
what he did do (yesterday and the day before) is move the bookshelf out of his room and down into the conservatory (and populate it with most of the books that were formerly in it and on it - but not all of them). he moved the hi-fi and the log baskets out to do that. he has wanted to do this for a while.
he has knackered one of his rucksack's straps doing this.
he's not sure what to do with the remainder of the books from on top of the bookcase that can now no longer go there. he's tempted to get his mum to sort out some books to keep and some books to go.
he is skipping the 10pm news to write this.
he's waiting for the day four roundup from the republican national congress (he pities the poor journos stuck there with trump crazies for company.
ultimately horsemouth would like to move more of his book collection back.
having finished anna neima's the utopians he is looking for the next thing to read. (curiously, being surrounded by books, he feels uninspired).
horsemouth is up, he has his coffee, it's a greyish cool morning. the garden is a riot of growth (most of it weeds).
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