'the grain is the body in the voice as it sings, the hand as it writes, the limb as it performs...'

nothing from kilvert today. 

from here on in an entirely written in the morning blogpost

how is the mule? well he's taken the milk over to the garage and fed the chickens. he has a bit of a cold. 

in the afternoon his mum is off into the village. hopefully she can pick up some coffee while she is there. (it won't be cheap but it will be coffee). 

and horsemouth has his coffee. he was up a bit earlier than usual. 

horsemouth re-read roland barthes' the grain of the voice essay for the first time in a number of years. it is not quite how he remembers it. there is much more consideration of the particularities of the french language and french art song (mélodie).  

'the grain is the body in the voice as it sings, the hand as it writes, the limb as it performs...' 

today more rain

horsemouth supposes it is good for the garden and that it will fill up the water butts. the nasturtiums were flowering (but the rain seems to have knocked some of the flowers off), some of the runner beans are flowering (as are the broad beans). the spinach plants are veritable trees. 

he should plant more peas. 

the foxgloves have survived the culling. horsemouth has saved some of the smaller poppies. he worries that they need to get a fruit net over the strawberries or the birds will have them all. the cherries, the damsons etc. are not here yet. the gooseberries are well on their way.