'I am writing about, I am living in...'

'I am writing about, I am living in...' -   opening line of glyn hughes' millstone grit. 

horsemouth has just been for a walk on the common. a couple with an alsatian. an older man with a number of small dogs. he heard the bells from ewyas harold. 

glyn hughes has been discussing the methodists (chapter 7) and has made it into halifax. 

horsemouth was there once at a friend's father's house on the hills overlooking the town (probably winter 1988).  they had been up to edinburgh. horsemouth was in one car with one friend the rest of the party was in another car, the other car had stopped (unannounced and unplanned) for lunch (in the days before widespread use of mobile phones). horsemouth and his friend had got there and waited (and waited). they'd had to pool their money to get something to eat. 

there was some tension when the second car arrived. unity had been broken. 

by chapter 12 hughes will be up on saddleworth moor (and with john o'grinfelts four loom weaver). horsemouth was having a look at the journey on google maps. 

on this day in 1872 kilvert travels to the south kensington museum. saturday the 6th (twelfth night) he will travel back to langley burrell. 

a lyric book of horsemouth's has turned up (he left it behind at a party).  

at the time he had a plan to sing an acapella version of the world turned upside down but the political and musical necessity of doing so has vanished in the subsequent years. 

of course horsemouth shouldn't count his chickens before they are hatched - he doesn't have it in his hands yet (and won't until some time in february).

here in the wilds a bright blueskies kind of morning but cold (very cold).