horsemouth was just watching the english heritage livefeed from stonehenge. now he's moved onto the livefeed from newgrange. of course at this time of year there is less chance of seeing the sun than in the summer (but it is also more welcome).
the ascent back up to summer begins here. it is looking cold but clear after christmas an into the start of the new year.
here it is a grey and misty morning with not much chance of seeing the sun. the rabbits seem happy as do the chickens. the black cat was sneaking up the fence line earlier.
in the evening it will be the anniversary of the first transmission of the owl service (1969).
horsemouth has an entire other blogpost that he is working on (one on changes). kilvert is in bath visiting his taylors. goethe is in rome thinking about the changes that italy is making in him (but more of that later).
horsemouth is recovering from his tumble. his neck is still a bit sore and there's a sore patch on his ribs. he's cleaned off his coat but is still waiting for the mud on the jumper to dry so it can be brushed off.
'I am almost convinced now that I am never truly awake.'
- fernando pessoa, the book of disquiet, fragment 133 (200), 20th december 1931.
oh dear. walking back from the village horsemouth slipped and fell over in the mud.
slip went horsemouth's foot. clack went horsemouth's back. clack went horsemouth's head. squelch went horsemouth's chattels in the mud.
horsemouth cursed and vituperated.
but then he picked himself up and (a little more carefully) made his way home. he's quite bruised (and he'd forgotten to buy the hereford times).
horsemouth's coat and jumper are drying off in a shed. so that's muddy coat, jumper, sweatshirt and jeans.
yesterday he did a little christmas decorating in the morning. he's went to clear bat-poo in the afternoon. now he won't be going out bell-ringing on the saturday (following his tumble).
so the video? horsemouth has to say this is a part of his thinking with what would it mean to stop?
the bell ringing on thursday went well. particularly the first one. here horsemouth is making progress. afterwards horsemouth went for a pint in the pub (largely to get sylvia out for a drink to thank her for driving him) and then off home.
so here we are again with a mostly-written-the-day-before blogpost.
these are less fashionable than the written-entirely-in-the-morning blogposts. the semi-improvisatory 'whole-thing'-ness of a written in the morning blogpost is something to behold (and then out it pops).
of course having obtained a blogpost horsemouth is likely to come back and 'improve it' over the course of the day.
no news from kilvert today.
a meet with the bus-driver/ guitarist. he is making progress having been advised to focus on targeting the chord tones when he is playing (instead of the usual flibbertigibbeting about guitarists go in for).
ok that all reads decently enough so far.
not the best weather until christmas eve but thereafter it gets colder and uglier through at least to new years eve. relatives over to visit between christmas and new year. but not all of them, some are working etc.
there's the possibility that horsemouth will be relieved for a week or so in january.
last night bell-ringing. horsemouth has offered to help mop up the bat poo at the abbey this afternoon and go ringing at the abbey on saturday for the service. he is a little apprehensive the last time there it didn't go so well. hopefully he will be better supervised this time and all will go swimmingly.
weatherwise today is supposed to be fairly decent. a wander into the village maybe to pick up the hereford times. some putting up christmas decorations. in the evening there's dave webb's technodub show.
10 years ago today horsemouth started out on this mixcloud thing with howard (for he is the guest DJ)
here he is impersonating one of the olympic mascots (remember them).
karen dalton, robbie basho (roses and snow), king ayisoba (wicked leaders)...
ok a written entirely in the morning blogpost (remember those).
this has happened because he was busy yesterday.
horsemouth has just been out to feed the chickens.
it's a grey morning (rain later). horsemouth is slightly headachey (hopefully that will clear). he didn't take the bin down the drive or deliver the eggs yesterday. the eggs he will deliver later. the recycling bin will have to wait two weeks (there's probably some switch up over christmas).
kilvert is off from clyro to langley for the christmas holidays (and to get some dental work done).
the andrew rossabi biography of richard jefferies goes well (despite being too large to be portable) and it is only volume one, his childhood, effectively. jefferies and kilvert lived in roughly the same time. as we follow kilvert from 1871 into 1872 jefferies is just beginning to take his first steps in writing (and is keen to share his limited experience with people, his reporting, editing, and authorship: practical hints for beginners in literature will be published in 1873.
amazon reports this handbook (33 pages) was published by snow and co. of swindon on the 1st of january 1873. horsemouth has been unable to find the text of it or even a picture of it. there are some quotations and a discussion of it in walter besant's eulogy.
the black cat is visiting. it is gingerly making its way along the fenceposts of the bottom garden.
ok the TESCO order has come (but not all of it). or rather horsemouth cocked up the order so that he didn't order all he needed but thought he had.
the starchy stodge and fake meat wasn't in the order. fortunately for horsemouth he has ordered it all but they cannot now deliver until the 28th.
fortunately horsemouth can easily walk to the nearby village shop and pick up much of what he has missed.
still he's not relishing explaining this. (ah well)
the walk will do him good
the walk has done him good (and he's doing it again soon)
there's a yellow warning for fog (and it will almost certainly rain at some point).
it is a day like any other but it is not like any other because horsemouth is here on his own. you think that that would make him calmer and more relaxed but not a bit of it.
not much from kilvert today from 1871 (he's off to langley burrell tomorrow) and of course it is soon 1872 in his timeline.
horsemouth has stopped doing a number of things in recent years. how does he feel about this?
- horsemouth has stopped doing the housing stuff (the communal endeavour). he's been at that for about 25 years.
how does he feel about this? well he should be delighted about it because the stress and conflict of doing it is gone, but he isn't because the opportunity to do good and to play at the top of his game is gone also.
- similarly he is no longer living in the homestead (shared house) in the great wen.
how does he feel about this? he was at that for about 10 years (this time around). well he misses having a place of his own (however annoying it was to 'share' it). he misses the ease of access to friends and to music and to second hand books.
- horsemouth has stopped doing the work stuff (beachside donkey rides). he was at that for about 25 years.
how does he feel about this? well (however annoying it was) he does miss it. he misses being useful.
- horsemouth has all but stopped recording or playing music live for the last few years. he was at that for about 35 years.
if he has not fully stopped playing music he has certainly done less. it is more than a year since his last gig as musicians of bremen. it is more than 5 years since he last released a recording. and yet he will not admit (to himself) he has stopped.
oh dear horsemouth is up an hour earlier than he needs to be (blasted mobile phone alarm clock). he's got to wait for the sun to come up so he can feed the chickens.
'to see clearly is poetry, prophecy and religion - all in one.'
- john ruskin, modern painters volume III, part IV.
it's a grey rainy morning. and horsemouth is planning for an off. but, seeing as he has just entered another period of paranoia, he won't be telling you much about it.
or maybe he will. maybe the urge to reveal will win out.
ok handover successfully achieved. on the train back through the rain and grey.
coughing bastard behind me.
ok back in hereford. check the bus times and see if there's a chance to go hit a second hand bookshop. ideally horsemouth wants to get back in time to get the bus up the valley (to save slip/ sliding through the mud of the common up hill and down dale). looks like he's got an hour.
in the end it all worked out fine
now to see if the reverse (later in the week) will work out fine also.
but first a day off (well there is a TESCO delivery).
acquisitions diary 15/12/25
- a peculiarly english genius: a biography of richard jefferies volume one 1848-1867 by andrew rossabi
scope 50p bit of a house-brick this one.
it's the early years of jefferies' life (so it may not be that interesting - let us see).
on the bus out of hereford an indian dude off to dulas (wtaf? - there's no actual buses up that way there's just a 2 mile walk down dark country lanes with no street lights). either he has friends there or he's off to work at dulas court. he had some GPS/ map thing on his phone. (horsemouth does hope he's ok)
it is strange to be in the house on ones own. there is the occasional creak and groan of the timber (that cannot possibly be another person). it's very pluribus. horsemouth spent a number of university holidays like this, alone in the house over summer while his parents (strange to seem) were off on holiday.
CAN are interviewed on a white stairwell by german tv. they affect a disdain for tv seeing music as more revolutionary but perhaps musicians are not the best people to explain the revolution, perhaps their music explains the revolution better than they can.
as werner herzog's journey in of walking in ice has ended horsemouth will have to return to the guidance of his usual diaries and journals. this means digging them out of the book-piles.
first out of the stacks is kilvert. (nothing from pessoa today)
'the mountain was veiled in a tender gauze of green mist and a sudden burst lit the country with a strange violent glare.' a quiet day for kilvert (this day in 1871). the day before he had walked over to glasbury to say goodbye to the vicar there, getting lost a number of times. people are very concerned about the health of the prince of wales and strangely (to horsemouth) they seem genuinely concerned.
horsemouth has just been mucking out the chicken shed with his mother. (three times the number of chickens three times the amount of shit, maybe more). in a bit horsemouth will have a chat with his brother about travel arrangements.
horsemouth has checked over the travel arrangements. his mum seems very concerned by what shoes he will be wearing.
he has been reading lafcadio hearn's oriental ghost stories
he has been watching 1979's the omega factor.
in the omega factor they drink rather a lot - single malts, wine, the show seems keen to keep the audience well lubricated and relaxed (the better to shock and horrify them later). they listen to a lot of classical music on the hi-fi, they go out to a disco (don't bring me down by ELO plays from 1979's discovery and another track horsemouth does not recognise), relaxing at home on his own our hero plays dark side of the moon by pink floyd (1973).
in the last episode of omega factor our star crossed lovers part with a film reference, leaving it all up in the air, but the follow on series does not get made. years later an audio drama sequel is made but by that time (in drama time) one of them is dead.
'as afterthought just this: I went to madame eisner, she was still tired and marked by her illness. someone must have told her on the phone that I had come on foot, I didn’t want to mention it. I was embarrassed and placed my smarting legs up on a second armchair, which she pushed over to me. in the embarrassment a thought passed through my head, and, since the situation was strange anyway, I told it to her. together, I said, we shall boil fire and stop fish. then she looked at me and smiled very delicately...'
herzog has done it. he has walked all the way from munich to paris. lotte eisner has been saved.
perhaps the two things are unrelated. perhaps not.
on this day in 1974 they meet.
here (again) horsemouth finds the translation just a little clunky in close up. the english phrase is as an afterthought - but this is a bit casual, but it would obviate the need for the just this.
not that he is moaning you understand, the clunkiness is part of its beauty.
'as afterthought' liberates and generalises the thought. 'just this' particularises it once again.
horsemouth will have to return to the guidance of his usual diaries.
horsemouth has moved the box of his diaries into his room (the outside of the box was going mouldy in the garage). it's not like they're full of genius writing (mostly work bookings, scribbles and a few quotes) but still.
there are two larger format diaries that are shoved in a bag somewhere/ have not yet come to light/ have been disposed of.
it makes him worry about his booksand his records and his CDs (he will go and check again).
'never tamper with library books... it's bad karma'
last night horsemouth and howard did their usual saturday zoom beers session (two beers) - lots of references to withnail and I and then a storytelling competition (horsemouth's squat tales versus boston council estate madness). horsemouth took a while to get going (he really has no memory).
'walked all night long, paris perimeter.. a farmhouse was in the background, also a clothesline between a couple of rotting posts, and fixed to it were clothespins. ducks splashed about in a small muddy hole in which water had gathered. at a distance, a barn and a cottage, the kind they provide for retired railway clerks. on the railway tracks just one train a day passes through...'
- werner herzog, of walking in ice, 13th december 1974.
herzog is nearly there. memory and actuality are getting mixed up and discussed together.
'UFOs appear over takoma washington and leave behind a seed that a woman eats and it impregnates her and she goes to utah to give birth to an alien child... and then joins a cult, a doomsday cult out in the desert...' - bookpilled's partial description of saltflower by sydney van scyoc.
bookpilled is preparing for another SF book auction (which will have happened by the time you read this). he has a box of books (but cannot stop himself from keeping the good ones or mentioning that one author's work is now entirely public domain - so you don't need to buy the books to read them).
despite this he is a really good guide to the field. he's even a good salesperson.
horsemouth is intrigued by the idea of UFOs over takoma.
strange lights over takoma park
horsemouth's mobile phone actually works
he can at least receive calls (he got his brother to phone him while he was walking about on the common i.e. a place where there might be some signal). he is therefore more reassured about the journeys that need to be made. he is still languishing in the world of not being able to make any outgoing calls - he will try sticking some more credit on it.
last year it was a friday 13th this year it is a saturday 13th (by the 52 weeks plus one day principle). saturday maybe zoom beers with howard. he has about a week of work left. saturday and sunday the weather looks decent.
(thereafter the weather is mercilessly rubbish clear through to the winter solstice and ch______s beyond)
next week the TESCO order comes. horsemouth is sad to say it is everyday provisions rather than ch_____s luxury.
'called pierre-henri deleau. I’ve pulled him out of bed; he’s the only one who currently knows that I’m coming on foot. nangis: perfectly straight stretch, pleasant to walk since I can trot along the roadside. cold, light snow begins to drift, then rain. it is very cold; at the edge of the snow I encountered a police roadblock, which became most uncomfortable. harvested fields, trees on the sides of the road, heaps of leftover sugar beets... '
- werner herzog, of walking in ice, december 12th 1974.
soon herzog's walk will be over
horsemouth's mum has called into the forge they are up 20kg of mixed corn and 20kgs of layers' pellets (for the chickens), 20kg of potatoes (for themselves and any visitors), and 5kgs of peanuts (for the wild birds for over winter). the potatoes and the corn are in the garage, the layers' pellets are in the feed bin by the chicken shed, the peanuts are in the greenhouse.
his uncle has given him some fresh runner beans to plant next year. horsemouth has some broad beans growing already for earlies and some more in the packet for next year. there's still plenty of spinach growing and the weather looks mild (if rainy) up to the solstice.
once again horsemouth promises to get better at this gardening lark next year
he's been very headachey this last while. he's not sure if it's neck trouble or some flu sort of thing or a tension headache (or whatever). he feels better when he does stuff (even if the headache itself doesn't shift).
his phone still seems to be on the fritz but it looks like it will accept incoming calls (nope straight to voicemail). the question is - is it a signal problem (no signal where horsemouth is) or is it a PAYG/ credit problem. at a minimum horsemouth needs to be able to receive texts or phonecalls - if it won't do that it has got to go in the bin.
it is the start of the winter solstice garland of horsemouth mixcloud mixes
here a later one from 12/12/21 (the last of the 6 he did with howard). horsemouth is pictured in a costume from the fall of the house of fitzgerald engaging in some stage magic. at the moment he was just listening to herbie handcock and the headhunters, now he's moved on to some michael o'shea and now babylon is fallen by swan arcade.
the friday and saturday look like the weather might be decent (thereafter it all goes to shit). looks like christmas eve might be decent but the solstice looks distinctly shabby.
'all I see in front of me is route. suddenly, near the crest of a hill, I thought, there is a horseman, but when I moved in closer it was a tree; then I saw a sheep, and was uncertain as to whether or not it would turn out to be a bush, but it was a sheep, on the verge of dying. it died still and pathetically; I’ve never seen a sheep die before. I marched very swiftly on...'
- werner herzog, of walking in ice, 11th december1974.
horsemouth has taken advantage of the break in the rain to go for a walk on the common. the dogwalkers were similarly out and about. it's now looking like the break in the rain will be the best part of two days (friday afternoon may be decent also) and then we are back into it until the winter solstice (pretty much).
in a bit horsemouth will be off to do the egg delivery. (ok he's just done it. he's just back).
david grubb's beneath the visiting moon continues to go well. david has moved to cornwall to become a writer. he has fallen in with the now little known writerjames ernest turner, an author of ghost stories, crime fiction and nature poetry.
'james wrote to live.. he wrote for glossy magazines, did radio work and book reviews. his writing was the source of his income. he didn't find prose a bore, he didn't resent the time it took, time that he would otherwise have spent on his poetry. I learned that in order to make writing a success, at the time of putting pen to paper each project had to be seen as being as important as any other writing task. a book review took as much time and energy and concentration as writing and revising a poem. all writing was important...'
the town has (after a number of near misses) flooded while david was there.
and so completes part one of david's book. in part two he will propose an experiment in autobiography the ancient child's album. you are invited to complete your own in part three (the only text made available on those pages is you are here). in part four there seems to be a fictitious account of the making of a movie about it.
horsemouth has been watching a 1979 tv series called the omega factor (he can't think why he hasn't seen it before - maybe his social life was too busy in his last few years in caerphilly). it's a stone tape type parapsychology and technology and secret government agencies type thing.
a morning with clear skies. in a bit horsemouth will go off and get the bin from the bottom of the drive. a clearish day with the usual pattern (rain) not being re-established until the evening.
'crystal clear weather for a while, a joyful feeling upon seeing the sun, everywhere steam: steam from the aube as if it were boiling, steam from the fields. when I look up to the sky while walking, without realizing I walk on a curve toward the north. right after the aube, the steam from a field was so thick and so low above the ground that I waded through it shoulder-high. viewed far and wide, the land is almost flat. a mangy woman chases a mangy dog out of the house. oh, my god, how I am cold...'
- werner herzog, of walking in ice, 10th december 1974.
'I go through periods of great stagnation...'
- fernando pessoa, the book of disquiet, fragments 67 (66), 10th december 1930
oh dear horsemouth lost his temper again
his mother, aunt and uncle have departed to attempt to keep the ancestors grave clean in a rainstorm. horsemouth does not think this is entirely wise (but it will certainly be an adventure).
because he had lost his temper he didn't think to propose that today was maybe not the day for it. he supposes that people will come to this conclusion at some point. if they are cut off by flood water they are in a car and there are hotels etc. (they have money).
ah they've made it back
here in the wilds of herefordshire it has been predicted that after the storms of the 9th the 10th will be sunny. (so far horsemouth is not observing this)
but when it comes this will (doubtless) cheer horsemouth up. the rainy weather and dark nights make him feel a bit trapped. peak darkness is on or round about the 21st of december (the winter solstice) thereafter (long dark tunnel) there is movement back up towards the light.
before that there's his brother's daughter's graduation. after it is the festival that shall not be named and a visit from his brother's family.
and then the winter continues (and indeed intensifies).
does horsemouth sneak away from social gatherings to write? yes he does.
and in the new year
come may horsemouth predicts political carnage as both labour and the conservatives watch their electoral base evapourate. horsemouth is unclear what the effect of PR will be across the border in wales. this means reform (assuming that they have not all been outed as racists and soviet agents by then, assuming anyone even cares) will not be denied their share of the vote.
does horsemouth predict an early election?
no he does not. the only viable labour strategy is to cling on and hope things get better (the sunak prevarication).
tomorrow much better weather for herzog on his walk from munich to paris
but today, the same old same old
'... uncertain about the route today, probably straight toward troyes, possibly via wassy. the cloud situation has hardly changed since yesterday, the very same thing: rain, gloom. noon in dommartin-le-franc; I ate a little. the countryside is boring, hilly, bare, plowed wet fields. in the furrows cold water has gathered, at a distance all dissolves in cloudy drizzle. it’s really not rain, just sheer drizzle.'
- werner herzog, on walking in ice, 9th december 1974.
'everything he did was a saving, a using again, a refusal to discard, to give up, to waste... we ourselves were often the recipients of grandpa's craft. when he wrote to us we recognised those second hand envelopes. he wrote on coloured paper, bits stuck together. his letters were happy and amusing and unique. they were about doing 'jobs', making new things from old things, making things work as fresh objects. they were essentially about life.'
-david grubb on his grandfather in beneath the visiting moon (1983).
it is the 30th anniversary of the death of philosopher gillian rose - horsemouth has her love's work round here somewhere (which he recommends highly). round about the time of the crisis group one of the youngsters recommended it to horsemouth and a week or so later he found it in the gower street oxfam (well ok the one opposite bookmarx).
she died in 1995. we are probably talking 2008-2010 here when horsemouth read the book.
yesterday horsemouth he has wandered into the village to pick up some (unnecessary) provisions. a neighbour's air-source heat pump is
today
weather permitting his mum is off to keep the ancestor's graves clean the other side of hereford (stoke prior). at the moment it is dark and rainy (but it is not pelting it down). we should see in the morning. horsemouth and his mum expect the aunt and uncle to cancel.
'during the night I was very cold. an old man crosses the bridge, unaware that he’s being watched. he walks so slowly, and ponderously, pausing again and again after short, hesitant steps; that is death walking with him. all is shrouded still in semi-darkness. low clouds, it won’t be a good day...'
- werner herzog, of walking in ice, 8th december1974.
after this herzog is off into a memory, off up a mountain (and we cannot follow him). but all these little glimpses of his journey, of his life, are good. the power of isolation to open up the emotions and the memories.
in pluribus, after the joining, the many are truly one. thus any of the many can do anything that one of the many could do (such as fly a plane). they also don't need to discuss or debate doing things or even agree how something should be done. they just start doing it in the most resource effective way possible.
(you don't know how beautiful this looks to horsemouth. he has spent a lifetime begging to be allowed to do the obvious).
but first they must clear up all the dead bodies
later it will be revealed, they are so empathic that not only can they not kill any animals for food they can also not pick apples or harvest wheat. windfalls can be gleaned, roadkill can be harvested, and dead human bodies can by ground up for 'milk' (the soylent green defence).
the empathy of the infected is a thought experiment - any activity is likely to cause some animal or plant suffering somewhere.
despite all this the infected will soon start dying out of starvation.
horsemouth remembers a dietary restriction called fruitarianism being briefly popular among the harder core vegans.
now of course veganism (applied on a world scale) would require vast changes in agriculture (even vegetarianism would require many changes). without animal poo/ pesticides conventional agriculture becomes much less efficient. it probably wouldn't starve us to death though.
it really isn't going well for herzog at all. and yet he's getting the walk done.
'I immediately pulled the covers of my display bed over my ears when I saw how hard it was raining outside. please, not this again! can the sun be losing every consecutive battle? it wasn’t until eight in the morning that I finally set out again, already completely demoralized at that early hour. a merciless rain and humidity, and the profoundest desolation pressed down upon the land. hills, fields, morass, december sadness.
mirecourt, from there onward in the direction of neufchâteau. there was a lot of traffic and then it really began to rain, total rain, a lasting-forever winter rain...'
- werner herzog, of walking in ice, 7th december 1974.
here it is pretty much looking like solid rain for the next two weeks (ok horsemouth tells a lie, they have wednesday the 10th off the rain having given it a good solid go on tuesday the 9th).
a photo of horsemouth in the wilds of the east end (24th july 2025) has been popular (horsemouth is up into double figures on the likes for it).
saturday evening a zoom beer with howard
pluribus formed much of the discussion. horsemouth is now thinking about similarities with the midwich cuckoos following an outlaw bookseller session on that. bookpilled had stuff to say too.
outlaw bookseller talks about woke and postmodernism and cultural relativism but horsemouth thinks he doesn't get it really. he's a grumpy old man. he does, however, quote alfred north whitehead, or at least the part of the quote that j.g. ballard liked to quote,
'it is the business of future to be dangerous'
but there is more to it than that;
'it is the business of future to be dangerous; and it is among the merits of science that it equips the future for its duties...' - alfred north whitehead, science and the modern world (1925).
'the major advances in civilization are processes which all but wreck the societies in which they occur' -symbolism: its meaning and effect (1927).
so 2020(5) goes out and 2020(6) comes in
outside it s rainy and grey. inside horsemouth has a sniffly nose and a sore throat. he is reading under the visiting moon by david grubb, an account of his childhood (among other things), he is better known as a poet.
'the chairs in the restaurant were still standing on the tables, but I was served breakfast graciously nonetheless. beside me in the restaurant, which was otherwise empty but for two cleaning women, the waitress was taking breakfast, and together we looked in the same direction, the direction of the street. I wanted to look over at her, but neither of us dared direct our gaze at one another, for due to a secret, compelling reason this wasn’t allowed. I’m sure she was under the same compelling urge. she stared rigidly ahead, the urge urged us both...'
- werner herzog, of walking in ice, 6th december 1974.
it's all the fault of the ecologists and greens and beavers. the rivers need dredging.
horsemouth (of course) stayed silent. he is of the opinion that to survive out here he needs to do two things
1) learn to grow vegetables
2) disguise his real political opinions
at the moment it is raining (tipping it down)
and it is due to do this for the next two weeks
horsemouth hopes there is no more flooding in ewyas harold etc. there have been two floods in the last year, that's as many as in the previous ten years. the real problem is that places become uninsurable.
if horsemouth were to pipe up then he'd mention global warming - warmer air can hold more moisture so sudden storms release more water in the same time are more destructive.
of course if the AMOC (the atlantic meridional overturning circulation) packs in or reduces then things in britain (and ireland and iceland) will get colder and drier. what would cause the AMOC to pack up? global warming and the melting of the greenland ice shelf.
in the evening
horsemouth watched the omega factor (1979) on youtube an edinburgh set supernatural/ sciencefiction crossover shocker. in episode 1 there was a brief night of the demon homage. he forgets the reference that took him there.
'set out very early in the morning. the alarm clock I’d found ticked so treacherously loud in the house I left behind that I climbed back inside, retrieved it, and threw it a bit further away into some undergrowth. right after fouday the most awful downpour began, rain mixed with hail, the black clouds threatening evil. I took shelter under a tree in the lingering morning gloom. below me the road, and beyond the brook some railway tracks. it’s so dismal. a little further it really gets serious. I crouched above the road beneath the fir trees, my poncho drawn...'
- werner herzog, on walking in ice, 5th december 1974.
herzog has made it into france (possibly the day before) but he's still about a week away from paris and his goal.
it is also the day of kafka's manic episode (in 1915) - there may be other manic episodes but this one makes it into the diary. the proximate cause of this one is war bonds and whether or not kafka should buy them.
horsemouth has a headache. he had a headache yesterday too. his mum has retired back to bed with the shivers after a busy day yesterday. (horsemouth is contemplating having to cook.) it's cold and flu season and there's a lot of it about.
what he thinks he will do is wander into the village to pick up the newspaper and a few tins of soup, a few more loaves of bread and such like. he did it. they are up one loaf of bread and one tin of soup because he did the shopping in a bad mood having quarreled with his mum about the shopping list. he bought some kindling wood and the hereford times also but failed to remember to get some teabags (because he was in a bad mood).
he got soap and toothpaste (not that he's convinced they actually need them).
in horsemouth's valley it is in the shade. up on the common there is golden sunshine. the walk to the village and back cheered horsemouth up a bit (and did good things for his headache).
horsemouth's mobile is still on the fritz
this makes the bell-ringing problematic. horsemouth will see how he feels in a bit.
ok he's going.
his mum has two things booked before her granddaughter's graduation ceremony. all these should be possible. the first thing is not until tuesday, the second not until friday. in a way horsemouth is looking forward to it (it is activity).
it will entail either an early am start or a walk to pontrilas on the wednesday (horsemouth suspects). unless it is pissing it down the walk may be the better option. the day of the journey up looks unpleasant and the day of the journey back also. (hopefully the weather won't be so bad that it all gets cancelled or everyone gets stranded).
after all of this there's a post-christmas visit coming (which horsemouth is looking forward to) by his brother's family (he's not sure how extensive that will be).
horsemouth is happier than he was earlier but he's still wrestling with the difficulties of being in the wilds. possibly saturday zoom beers with howard.
it's the morning. horsemouth dreamt of bridport (a bridport like prague). later he was at a dinner party with some younger people. they were going to climb out of a window to perform but there was a dinner party in the back garden next door who started playing records.
'an immaculately clear, cool morning. everything is hazy on the plain, but one can hear life down there. the mountains, full and distinct in front of me, some elevated fog, and, in between, a cool daytime moon, only half-visible, opposite the sun. I walk straight between sun and moon...'
- werner herzog, on walking in ice, 4th december 1974.
tonight a full moon (the cold moon).
horsemouth has finished reading wylder's hand by j. sheridan le fanu. as horsemouth surmised he has been dead all along. he doesn't think you will be too shocked to hear that, nor does he think knowing it will impair your reading of the novel. so much action in the weeks from his death to the body being discovered. the evil lawyer larkin's schemes have miscarried. dorcas and rachel lake make their escape to a gondola on the lagoon in venice (where we see them for the last time).
'all affection is illusion, and perishable with the deceits and vanities of earth.'
horsemouth will post up his review to goodreads.
now he will have to find another book to read.
after much cursing horsemouth managed to top up his mobile phone (ok it looks like he spoke too soon).
in a bit he's going to go out on an egg delivery. everything has worked out on the going to the doctors front. his mum is off in town looking at some suits she had altered. a beautiful autumnal afternoon. a neighbour was out cycling. a neighbour was out walking their dog. golden sunshine spilled over the hill from the common.
young fingerpicker hayden pedigo (interesting dude) has published a list of his favourite fahey albums (interestingly it includes none of the later revenant ones as it were, nothing after 1992's old girlfriends and other horrible memories for example, nothing, indeed, after 1971).
1) days have gone by (1967) - a good entry point, he says and the only one on this list horsemouth actually owns.
2) america (1971) - 'fahey's masterpiece... a patchwork quilt of the story of american music'
3) the great santa barbara oil slick (live 1968/69) - 'fahey's greatest album'
4) the yellow princess (1968)
5) the great san bernardino birthday party(1966) - 'the most psychedelic acoustic guitar album of all time'
horsemouth would probably have live in tasmania for the live album. he'd probably have fare forward voyager instead of yellow princess. he'd probably keep days have gone by. that would give him two spaces on the list for fahey's later (and often electric) work - red cross disciple of christ, perhaps city of refuge, nothing from the post takoma years, nothing from the orchestra albums.
here a rainy, dark morning. his mum is wiped out after yesterday's trip to the doctors and trip to town.
'difficulties in finding a place to spend the night. when I tried to break into a house in the dark, without noticing it I lost the compass that was on my belt; I’ve been attached to it ever since the sahara and it’s a painful loss. up on the summit, toward evening, I met a group of men at the edge of the forest who were waiting, strangely frozen, with their backs to me; chainsaws were still working in the woods though it had long been quitting time. as I approached them I could see they were convicts consigned to...'
- werner herzog, on walking in ice, 3rd december 1974.
you see this is what horsemouth likes about herzog, here he admits to doing a little housebreaking (out of necessity). herzog can rock and roll.
then we have the eerie scene with the convicts 'waiting, strangely frozen, with their backs to me' (like old school zombies).
there is a connection to lotte eisner in the lost compass - eisner (in whose aid herzog is doing the walk) did the narration for herzog's film on the sahara called fata morgana.
the film features songs by leonard cohen which is perhaps a mistake horsemouth would think (but he can see the attraction of having someone that famous associate with the project).
and yet it is not as good as practicalities precisely because it is an interview, the back-and-fore of it blocks the establishment of an easy authorial voice.
horsemouth just had another toys out of the pram experience
his mum has a doctor's appointment.
now that his mum does not drive, and is no longer able to walk to the village (and walk back), there's the usual problem with actually getting to the village to the doctors.
the bus service is different on tuesdays and wednesdays to what it is on mondays, thursdays and fridays. mondays, thursdays and fridays are the good days for getting the bus into the village for the doctors and getting the bus back, saturdays there's no getting back in the afternoon, sundays the bus service does not run at all.
tuesdays and wednesdays it is difficult to tell what the fuck is going on with the bus running under a different service number etc. from clehonger to abergavenny (and back again) and into hereford via some insane backwoods route.
on the whole horsemouth is grateful and thinks it is a miracle that there is a bus service at all.
nonetheless its peculiarities must be respected.
it doesn't help that there don't seem to be any local taxi services. there's a community taxi service but they like plenty of warning (and this is not always possible with medical emergencies).
but don't get horsemouth onto the subject of the doctor's surgery answerphone ('just press 1 for the non-existent service and please call-back later BZZZZTTTT!'), the callback service, the triaging of patients by the receptionists etc.
if these were all the problems posed by the situation it would still be too much (but, of course, there's more, there's always more). ok he's off for a stomp about on the common (ok nope he's having a sandwich and a cup of tea instead).
ok he's done the stomp around the common (he only fell over in the mud once). he has a slight tension headache. he is assuming it is all sorted (there is a friend mum can ask for a lift) failing that normal bus services resume on the thursday.
ah result! bus services! re-incorporation has been achieved! horsemouth is free to leave the topic.
------------------------------
in the evening. horsemouth assumes he is coming down with the flu.
'in schramberg, things seemed to be still in order: fried goose at the tavern, card players playing skat... a climb up to the fortress instead of down, then along the chain of hills to the lauterbach valley. black forest farms come into view without warning, and a completely different dialect, also without warning. I’ve probably made several wrong decisions in a row concerning my route...'
- werner herzog, of walking in ice, december 3rd 1974.
horsemouth's life often looks to him like several wrong decisions in a row. (he thinks there's a song in this). horsemouth's hyper-critical brain cannot see it any other way, and yet the resulting pattern is his life which is what it is.
today a rainy day (but not yet the heavy rain which was promised). probably some reading, some listening to the radio etc. (horsemouth doesn't see that anything can be done outside).
horsemouth has effectively engaged in NO cultural production for the year 2025
at the most he has continued with his substack postings (his goodreads ones have fallen into abeyance). even there (with a few minor exceptions) he has only posted reworked versions of pieces he has posted before.
he has continued with his blogging here (that much is true). a perpetual sorting and resorting of the material to see if there is anything in it. he has passed the 19th anniversary of his starting blogging.
he has made no new music himself and has been out to see very little in the year
the bermondsey folk festival, the hackney peace mural celebration, jazz jamaica at the showing of babylon, soft white underbelly (aka. the blue oyster cult).
he has kept up the bell-ringing and is beginning to see progress with it.
he has finally moved out of the wen and into the wilds
by the end of the year he will have been out here (in his entirety) for 90plus days. he is slowly, slowly sneaking up on the state pension age. sadly, it being the wilds, he will have to wait until then to get his bus pass (how unfair is that?).
here decentish weather today and tomorrow. friday back to the rain.
'I am the outskirts of some non-existent town, the long-winded prologue to an unwritten book.'
- fernando pessoa, fragments 10 (28), this day in 1931.
... and we are into our fourth month of embers.
symmetrically, the other side of the winter solstice, and rising up into the new year, we will have the -uaries.
remind horsemouth to go around turning over the pages on the calendars.
'an almost toothless cat howls at the window, outside it’s overcast and rainy...
for the first time some sunshine, and I thought to myself this will do you good, but now my shadow was lurking beside me and, because I was heading west, it was often in front of me as well. at noon, my shadow, it cowered there, creepingly, down around my legs, causing me in truth such anxiety. the snow has smothered a car, it was flat as a book...' - werner herzog, on walking in ice, 1st december 1974.
it is interesting how his characteristic way of speaking just emerges from the text.
the black cat that visits is in remarkably good health. horsemouth thinks it left two dead mice as a gift (in an impressive state of decay).
today a wander up the hill on the egg delivery and then horsemouth put up a poster at the village hall.
up in the top field one of the apple trees has blown over. most of the cooking apples have been shaken off the trees and those that haven't have been munched on by wasps (or whatever). it was a good year for fruit but then the sheer weight of them caused branches to snap and other mishaps to befall. (ah well better luck next year).
horsemouth thinks he has a cold coming. he has been watching various clips from pluribus which seems very interesting. (horsemouth has a fascination with people speaking in unison). but isn't this the borg and the cybermen?
