Monthly Archives: October 2019

.summer county.

what do you have in your sandwich
will it be butter or another spread
mum used to call it marg
all the ladies did
neighbours, her friends

stork for baking
another for everyday

i think she prefered summer county
on googling find this is so

now i have butter come more expensive
lately

i should not really with the fatness
and animal connection

it does taste nice, salty

as did our tears yesterday

what are we like
all emotional in public
then who cares when we share
thoughts and disappointments

the donuts were nice
inelegant to eat

is it home made bread
white or brown, rustic?

i enjoy ideas from others
they open up new possibities

i am changing things
in layers
starting with those things under
neath

an easier day today
at home to clear
hedge trimmings
to gather logs and
ideas too

go well my friend

7.21
yes later today
birds at the window

.cardboard boxes.

6.43

up bathed and haired washed
latter

skipped yesterday

hope your visit went well
usually does with offspring

siblings

which reminds me to tell
you that i am with my brother from
next monday and while i shall miss
writing

i wish to give my full attention

it is quieter here now
and
there is more time at mill
to talk to folks

find their whereabouts

note that the smart gentleman
who bought winter tattersall wore
leather brogues

was camping under canvas

the shirts to keep him warm

the american baker moving
over here
to buy a business, possibly
a cafe

his mother looking better in the yellow
than black
we both persuaded her

we need colour
we need to live
a little
and concentrate on editing

indeed now it is monday so
i must get to the road to go
grocery shopping
to meet a friend

to find stories that may be written
or left a bit

it is rainy today and those boxes
left outside yesterday disintegrate

the metal inside will remain
already rusty
no harm

a gift
she asked why i wanted it
i said that i did not know

he had a box in the room
to stand on
to see

we may all need one of those

6.53
in a hurry slowly

.weekend. work day.

for a while i thought it was monday
after planning the shopping trip in
my head

realised of course is sunday with work
at the mill

i used to take my bike to shop
a wicker basket on the front and
bags to balance

a seat on the back for the little girl

my mother did the same up to winton
the chain guard and a plastic covering
the back wheel saved her clothes from
harm

quite a way there, she would stop for
a cake at the bakers
cream slice or horn

she had a bell of course as did i

as i write that black bran birds cranks
the radio plays choral and sounds like
gwil brings wood

i may hang out the window in a while
to see

mum bought her tea set gently in parts
each week from woolworths and i still have
some of it

some is broke now glued together, fabric
was bought in sturtons, furniture paid for
weekly in the shop on peters hill

i told him about the seed merchant on
that hill, the feel, the differing types of coal
they sold that too

he uses briquettes as do i
i also have logs

my brother worked at the fishmongers
opposite on saturdays. it smelled

of course

our bikes were heavy then and i do
not remember if mum’s had gears
yet am sure it was black and her
coat was green and double buttoned

am full of thought about my visit
and the things that occurred there
in the slate place

where my family reside

the knapweed here is gone over
will be cut october while up the
graveyard behind is still in flower

they will cut it so i suggest that john
takes some for his garden

we both like long leggy plants to
grow to walk through

if it goes on this way we will not
have many members left in our
parliament

the bear sighs, turns over
has been quiet quite a while

he asked me if i am calm
i guess i am now

but i do not have a bike that works
like yours

6.53
sunday not monday yet
hair needs washing i guess

.the visit.

days off are delightful
yours make good reading

i went on a visit
which fed me with delight
and home made
soup

then sadness for he is ill

a particular being
as are most of us
here

the cracked mirror
the wooden box tied with string

full of wood shavings, beautiful
to view another day
if i return
if i return

the cloth by the fire
three radios
each tuned different

splendid cows in the front fields
all clean and brushed

the rusted hook gathered
from the garden still good enough
to use

i walked through town
wet on the way up
dry coming back
hours later

yes i fail in that i see/experience
many things that may be left

aside

he said that maybe there is something
after all, that we are not to know of it ever

obviously as we do not know
and cannot know everything

there is a house below dark
yet somehow welcoming

i tried not to stare in

i like the feel of the town
slate town, blaenau ffestiniog

i woke later today
and that is alright

i shall record the addresses
and make a clean bed and studio later

for now

7.29 am
with tea, coffee in an hour
head full of thoughts and ideas
with no pattern or rhyme
with that underlying
sadness

.shorter grass.

it has come quietened here
september with children back
in school
tourists gone
roads are easier with those

who know the ways

the rock lorries continue
to the coast

to stop the sea
as if we can

kittens in corners
while i forget your numbers
imagine the cuteness, to touch…….

yesterday we ( he) cut the longer grass
rearranged the sculptures
while i swept leather leaves from under
the rhodedendrons

the day passed pleasantly
messages came from folk
to arrange the next adventures
to include donuts
with jam and sugar
and a need to wash after
eating……

as i write the sky lightens
to spite the rain threat

i look out to see
to get ready

6.54
three quarter tea left
luke warm
toe better
back better