Category Archives: blog

.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

.desertion.

my father told me that he was too deaf for the war

so stayed in britain instead

of fighting

my father said he did not understand my mother’s illness

no one told him beforehand

the incidents

said that the doctor advised his leaving; the desertion

he said that he was there at my brother’s funeral;

stood back

where no one saw him, no one heard him

my father said he was always around if we had needed him,

so i said where?

but he did not hear me

.james.

yes we have our daily habits
our daily likes
that make life pleasant
your bikes, my broken pots

our separate adventures

i feel for the beautiful moments
that pass not recorded here

the gardens unseen
yet ever there

yesterday i went to bunners again
to collect the crocks
garden things that arranged

became a power house again

the realisation of why i admire them

it is all back before with pleasantness
and no hurry at all

it is a different landscape there
bricks come regular
whilst here homes are mainly made of stone

today is pleasant so far, slightly pink
with an unusual comma
in this paragraph

the radio plays a song that brings
on tears regularly
yet i have tea to strengthen me

news comes again that i remain with my
desired nationality a while at least

the bears hopes it will last for him too
he does not say much
just endures

those shadows James.

Sonja
7.30am
battery one third
yesterday’s issues
mostly forgotten

.the reply.

you keep things going

in others absence

this is a talent

a task that gains recognition

when those around are failing

some times we needs loosening

to start

when blocked

blocking comes with tiredness

we need an empy head

the things it holds at present

(the head that is) are important

never the less

those little things we feel are not

are those which inspire

it may be that major issues

are beautiful challenges

yet are dire reading

not for the early morning

thus rambling i say all is well

here

we do not have locusts

there is no escape

glad for your days off

and domestic tasks

we are ordinary

i like that

i like your description of flowers

while i say nothing

Sonja

6.52

have hurt the end of my toe

it is nothing at all

.home.

settled back here yesterday

nice to be home

miss their company

it is cooler here now

late summer

early autumn

i am working today

while you have a break

i shall look at the garden today

and talk more

about it

another day

6.36 am

shortly

thinking

listening

..jones of ffestiniog..

nice that josie came home

that your braces are right

and hoping they are strong

enough against gravity

apologies in that i had hoped

to visit again yesterday yet

the day slowed and failed

slightly

our news came and carried on all day

we watched the weather change and

saw a hint of blue from the window

here

i am assuming you and nancy work

at the same place?

if so convenient for travelling

to and fro

softer light this morning

less glare and while the radio

plays

i plan a trip to the bala studio

today. am stuck here/ an impasse

so i will move and see what comes

i too like mothths an spell it so

a sound of silk and softness

sound of thththths wingthths

the knapweed is real gone over

now yet still retain a beauty so

will remain

ah the news again each twenty minutes

in the hour and uk is no longer measles

free

a shame

a worry

i have no experience yet

am sure it is a really difficult

illness

we must look after ourselves

some how

i hear greta is landed

for now James

Sonja

6.42 am

music from the mission

lorries on the road

jones of ffestiniog