the end of the week

31 July 20 is.

after the third beep the alarm is silenced by yours truly, yours daily. And off to the bathroom, a shower of warm water and use of soap and hair shampoo.

The teeth recieve their attention, and, yes, all the clothes too. The cat is on the bed, purring like a small machine. Find the comb in the bag, comb the hair.Two Bells-

The watch is badly set today, these hells are never too early or too late.

The alleyway is deserted, and for the first day in months. the streetlamps are lit.. It is cloudy, and the sun has not yet risen.

There are two men in business suits at the bus stop, they both make sure that they get on the bus first.

The pigtailed smoking man at the railway station is there, wearing three-quarter length shorts.

good Morning.

"Yuma's has the black haired girl with the white glasses at the service till. She does not get flustered anymore, and does not point the finger at customers any more either. Houstaahio and the 'Hedgehog are there, talking. And There are few other details, except that the watch still does not appear to be working just right. It may be the battery.

It is the last day of school before the holidays, there are fewer people about than usual, though the platform has a - busy crowd, closing in on the now arrived train, anon forming excited groups at every entrance.

        The sun has risen now.

        The landscape is lit by the orange morning sun, trowing it's orange light at a very flat angle over the landscape, enhancing the three-dimensionality of the view.

        All the facades of the houses facing east are brightly lit, they almost appear to glow. The chemicals factory at Moosburg passes by as the stop is announced, with the usual precise German directions to please leave the train on the right hand side with regard to the trains motion. The doors do not open on the other aide, but there will always be people who try.

        A group of holidaymakers, recognisable by their luggage, get up to leave the train in preparation for the Frei sing stop, now easily ten minutes before the train gets there. They are all in  warm jackets, possibly to save baggage.

They appear to have no routine, they are unused to travelling in trains. They are excited, and are talking into each other untiringly, nervously laughing and giggling.

        All change at Freising, all these for the airport,

all those for local trains. 

thursday, last this August

30.July 2015

The clock has fallen on it's face, and can  he heard only in the returned early morning darkness. Wash and shave, let the day begin. Thoughts of passed youth, and lost chances. clothe, and open the door as the bell sounds for half past five. There is one man in the street, faceless.ly dragging himself along the pavement wearing one of there now-fashionable American baseball  caps . The peak of the cap is there where his face should probably be.

At the bus stop me the woman in her black outfit and white sports shoes approaches. Tired looking today, less bounce in the steps. Watch as she passes, she reaches back into her rucksack and takes something out. Lights up under the archway of the town gate. Daily habits. Maybe she  is not smoking, maybe she  is just steaming. But she does whatever she does at the name time. Every day now.

The bus driver, a patient man with long hair and a pate. The Station, Anastasia serving on her own, all the customers by memory. She takes time to explain why the café doors need to be closed when it is hot.

Hedgehog and Moustachio, and the brown-haired mom are all there today, talking, discussing drinking tea and coffee. The sun is hardly up today, it promises to be a cloudless day, likely a hot day once the Earth her turned and the sun has really had a chance to work on the still-chilled atmosphere.

The way to the platform is marked by a man with a new' leather laptop bag, it exudes the smelsl of new leather all along the platform..

Judging by the clothes that people are wearing, today will be a really hot day.

How do they know in advance? 

Wednesday, feels like the fourth week of the third year

29th July 2015

a tangle of devices by the bed, one making noise. Silence! Ciunas!

and so the day starts, get up, bathroom, shower, finally awake, enjoy the days highlights. Find the socks where they had been placed last night in preparation of this early rising.

The cat purrs loudly in the hope that it is to be fed, has no chance, however.

Leave the house to greet what is a grey, pleasantly cool, day. There is the mildest of drizzles, and a young woman passes wearing a raincoat.

The bells of saint Marlins darkly toll twice, it is the half hour. The Ursulines tinkle two seconds later, from the distance. Are they two seconds off, or is it the distance? No knowing:

Blacklegging'ed, black haired, black jacketed girl passes by at the bus stop. White, actually brightest white, cloth sports shoes and a black rucksack. Hair hair done in a ponytail, visible as she passes by, swinging from side to side as ponytails do.

On the go he reaches for her rucksack, and as she passes by the town gate she removes her cigarettes and stops there. Her daily smoke, her daily habitual.

The bus driver is friendly, his change machine has stuck. A damaged change machine. There is a young woman on board the bus, with long blond hair, and long bare legs sitting there with her large suitcase. On her way to a hot country most probably. In her shorts and flat shoes, preening her hair with her hands. She is happy to be underway. At the station, she is clumsy with her wheeled suit case, and we all walk through the pig-tailed smokers yellow-bordered demesne, and wish him a good morning. The cafe is well filled today, the girl with the white glasses has stopped pointing at people today. She is working away, concentrating upon her job in the service of those who are always in a hurry. She does not emanate friendliness, but she is accurate and, considering the short time that he has worked in the cafe, really fast.

Hedgehog gives a morning greeting, sounds like "MONG". All the doors are locked again, this is awkward.

And when it is time to go, at six, the way out of the cafe is blocked with people dressing their hot morning drinks in sugar and milk, juices and syrups.

On the platform, the mosaic maker gives a grin on her way to work. 

tuesday, back to work

28th July 2016

The alarm dock has become a stranger within the last four days, it's noise almost futile. But it gets louder and faster, and gets turned off.

- showered last night, no-there is no need today. Up a bit later than normal, maybe ten minutes. and it all runs its course again. The keys are hard to find, but they are simply in the wrong compartment of the bag. Make sure that the cat is inside and leave the house.. A bright day with high cloud. The Martins church in a ruddy morning illumination. The air is fresh, two women approach, not walking on the pedestrian way, but out on the pavement itself. They are conversing… 

At the church, check the bag for money, it would not do to forget that. 

There are a of Chinese tourist people around the imdge on the river, some taking walk, a couple, and a group of people taking pictures of each other with tablets.

All those smiling fires with the landscapes of hands hit behind them.

The the bus to the station,. when it has arrived.

At this time the Obusses are very punctual, there is little other traffic to delay them and fewer passengers to deal with.

        at the railway station, with all the usual people- "good morning", (the pigtailed smoket), and the eternally broken swing door. there is more activity than usual... But This is just the time of year, there are holidaymakers mingling wtth the usual commutters.

        At the cafe, the new girl with the white glasses is serving. She has a disturbing way of pointing  customers she is currently adressing, this is bad Mahners

 She slam the money on the curved glass cover to the refrigerated display when she has finally told the the change.

        and all the glass doors are locked  again, it is neccesary to force  past the people standing at the counter..

        The cafe is empty Today.

        And on the platform the mosaic maker passes, giving her friendly morning grins. 

written in an aircraft

27th July zois, written in an aircraft

Disturbed sleep in the lovely bedroom the nights rest gone before daybreak. Check the telephone and discover that the battery has run down, it will not work,' it cannot work at all, showing a red Buttery, an image quite clear, meaningful. A green battery would be right

Total, down the stairs, down from the little landing. The small room is dark, with untill the light is on

Pack the bags, sort the clothes, tidy up the bed clothes. Close the bags; and leave the room. Take a picture of the landing's big window, the mews,the scullery and the gardens in the light dawn. and down the stairway, into the big hallway, twenty feet high, with all the paintings on the walls, 'the barograph on the mantlepiece. Pictures of childhood, memories at the high house. Leave by the back side entrance, through the small back yard, past the old dairy and past the mews. The old scullery too, not to be formten        Cross the yard, and tap on the brother's door. He is awake, and drinking coffee from a larger mug. He is in no good humour

-

The jacket is not there, it is back in the bedroom.So return. "Past the stärker, up the side stairs. All the way to the very top, and there it is, beside the bed. Back down again, collect the glasses from the brothers kitchen table.

and enter the big car, the huge contemptible American vehicle, made in Japan, too big for little Irish roads..

And  to the airport.

In style and company.

lastDay in Ireland

Awaken, and get up, out of bed and … it is so late.
eight.
Oh.
The things that needed to be done and were due to be done will not get done.
Pick the things together, sort the clothes, sort the contents of the bag.
Awake

out on the landing the big sash window with small panes. Look through it, the mews, the victorian pleasure gardens. Beauty in age, increasing in beauty as they grow older.
It is worth a picture.
After yesterdays walk the face is red and burnt, the feet are sore.
A walk from Killakee to Glenmacnass waterfall.

Go down the stairs, to the right, to the left and out of the doors.
Through the yards, past the mews and through that small arch to the yard.
And knock at the brothers door.

after returning from Banbridge.

awaken in in the room of the mansion, with a view of trees through the windows placed high above the floor. The window is  high in order to preserve the proportions of the facade, unmindful of the impossibility of a normally grown person to see the ground out of the window. The mansion is beautiful from the outside, and you cannot see the view of the outside from the inside.
Just the tops of the huge pinus radiata in the garden, two hundred years old, in the old terraced gardens.
Get out of bed, find the bathroom. One landing down. All well.
And pick the days clothing from the suitcase, make the bed, and down the long staircase.
Go past the old mews and up to the yard. Roll this , and in the passage to the stables knock on the door.
The brother opens the door.

and there is a shower there and then breakfast, and looking at oisin Kelly’s book.
So now it is a holiday, last night’s show was the end of that run.

Walkday today.
The sun is up for a long time.

TGDR FRIDAY, Ireland

TGDR Friday

Awaken from a broken sleep, its and starts. No toothbrush. All that rushing around between countries yesterday did that. A long uneventful flight.

The utter silence of  an early morning in an Irish country mansion outside Dublin. View of venerable trees in the park outside, they may be over two hundred and fifty years old. The room is a workroom, tidy and clean.

Outside the window a huge, three colored cat strolls through the emerald-coloured grass. It is a monster cat. It reminds of the cat in Landshut, now no more than a small kitten.

Tidy up the suitcase. Cannot find the promised shower, but it is only six in the morning, and will not start searching in a sleeping house.

And put on day clothes, it is the day of the exhibition in Bainbridge today.

Go down to the enormous central entrance hall of the house, with its stucco ceilings and grand staircase. Some unfortunate elks antlers are on the wall over the entrance,and artworks of beauty and considerable value hanging everywhere. A grand room with an enormous staircase on the one side and a door on the other. The light coming in through the window is reflected of a part blue sky and filtered by the trees in the park outside to a pale cyan colour. In the other direction there is the light from the sun risen over Dublin, Dublin Bay, and Howth.

It will be a loverly day

Thursday, one thousand miles on today

hot and dark. These nights come to an end today. The mask came off, it and its tubes filled with condensation from the air and from expelled breath. At five the alarm sounds, press its button to turn it off.
Today is the day to fly to Ireland, another opening, the Banbridge gallery this time.
There is not hurry to get up.
No work today, rather go to the airport today, and fly.

Shower, wash off the accrued stickiness of the night, put on fresh clothing. It is not the heat, but the water-laden air, replete with smells that is causing the fatigue and weakness. There are plenty of places in the world having higher temperatures, and yet the climate is pleasant.

Clear last night’s beer bottles from the table, and write this.
The air coming in through the window has cooled noticeably.
Maybe there will be a change in the weather here now.
And now the rain starts, it is six forty.
And the air cools at last.

wendesnay, third week of the third year

22.7. 20/5

It is too hot to sleep, just dose. At five, wash and shower. The air is no humid things will not dry. The skin produces more water than the towel will soak up.

The cat is awake, and chasing a moth with keen intent. But the moth is far too high.

gather all  the things and leave the house, Ooutna the door notice that the keys are not in the bag. Ring the doorbell, awaken the wife.

Find the hey. Return to the street, and just make the bus on time.

The bus has videos of cartoon characters running on all of its T.FI screens.

The station-Decorated by a small group of lightly-attired women, and the pigtailed man, hat in hand, smoking.

Good Morning. Yorma's cafe has all of it’s glass doors seperating the cafe from the stations hallway closed. Because of the air conditioning, they say. Which air conditioning?What air conditioning? It is hot and stuffy, and there is no Anastasia. Therefore it is hot, stuffy, and slow. Air conditioning is a fairy tale.

Hedgehog and Moustachio, talking."

leave that stuffy cafe, and gain the platform just as the train arrives..

The year is moving on, the sun is not as high as it was last week....

In ten minutes we shall reach Moosburg...

and this is the last workday this week.

off to Ireland tomorrow.

        c

        - 

tuesday, third week of the third year

21.7. 2015

Up as always, these days. There seems to be no purpose in it, the weather is hot, the air is humid.

Shower, shave, and so forth.  Pet the cat, the cat all whole and purry again, even after yesterdays defenestration.

The sink is clogged again, or the sink of the washbasin.

De-clog it, work for the early morning. Gather the fresh clothing, fresh is great after yesterdays heat. And, at the sound of half - past, out into the church lane, or alley, or whatever. The brickwork appears to be standing in relief, a trick of the morning tight The bakeries down the direct named Old Town,

are just. opening, being refilled with a days supply of frozen pastry and dough products.

To be warmed up and fed to the populace.

Through the town gate's portal the water wheels are visible, turning slowly in the current. At the bus stop, the deserted bus stop, the bag is checked once more, all the needed things are there.

The bus comes early today, 'and in the distance the approaching shop girls and the man are visible. One of the girls is wearing a bright fright orange tank top, almost a hazard warning color.

At the station, the pigtailed men stands, straw hat in hand, beside the ashtray. He is smoking , as he always does when in that place.

He says good morning, he must to be in a good humour.

thong Yorma's Café, Anastasia the prime example of early morning efficiency, faster than anywhere else at this hour. The coffee is there before it has been asked for, a curt greeting, and she is off to deal with the next customer.

Hedgehog has his friends around him, the brown henna headed woman and two men, with enormous stomachs, both so big that they would need a mirror to see their Toes if they ever wanted to. They are talking loudly, stupid-man talk, louder when the brown haired on has gone.

Anastasia, in the back ground commences instructing the  new service girl with the white glasses and the black hair. Anastasia has a high, voice, and explains the preparation of the Yorma's delicacy in the greatest of detail.

And, off to the platform at six. Watch the groups of people fom around the doors of the meanwhile arrived train., waiting for them to open.

Go to the smallest such group, jostling is hateful. Wait till they have all boarded in their frenetic hurry.

And find a neat seat in a carriage, a seat with a table before it to rest my notebook and pen on. Start the black pen, click click, and commence writing this.

The mosaic maker sims down on one of the seats opposite and sleeps.

And later she opens her eyes and says -
„hello". 

monday, third week of the third year

MondayJuly 2005

Wake in the heat of the morning, lie on a few minutes after awakening. The mask came off during the night, it was just to hot and uncomfortable. Go to the bathroom and take a shower, cool down just a little. Brush the hair and the teeth, and put on clothes as everyday, usual things. Check the bag, and say good morning to the early-risen wife. Hear the bells outside and leave the house. With that new self-locking door there is no need to use the hey, but have it in hand anyhow. Force of habit.

Passing the beer garden and the place where that lavatory trailer had been parked; there is nothing there now but a screen and a few pipes and a bad smell.

The scorched-grass lawn beside the bus stop is completely crisp and brown. And there is one man at the bus stop. He is waiting, most attentively.

a cyclist crosses to the road's centre and is nearly overlooked by a car driver. She does not realise her plight, and continues to drive, blithe to the problems. She is pedaling in high gear, with great pressure on her bicycles mechanism.

The pig tailed smoking man is next to the ashtray on the station forecourt. There are men at the steps up to the  entrance drinking their first bottles of beer today, slurred speech already.

Anastasia is showing a new girl the ropes. A young woman with dark hair and white-framed spectacles. In great detail the preparation at a hot dog is explained, then the preparation of a carry worst, and then how to enter things on the till. Talking for ten minutest, without a break. How will the girl remember all those details?

Hedgehog is there at his seat, moustachio is trying to flirt with the big blonde behind the counter. She shows her contempt for everything this morning, including Moustachio himself.

The glass doors to the cafes are closed again, it is necessary to squeeze past people standing at the counter to gain exit.

It is later than usual, the train is in already, and the steps are full of disembarked on their way to work in LA, the town just left still sleeping.

Fwd a neat opposite u was asleep and settle down with this notebook, Din A$, and write this account.

Marburg and Freisvg: Towns on the route, change at freising for the S bahn, pass a village named Pulling, past the building site for the new railway line.

Neufahrn and wait for the bus.

The trouser leg is now bloodstained by the cut in the hand that opened up again. Something to live with for the rest of the day.

Glass cutting should be left to glaziers.

Sunny hot day, sunday early morning.

Sunday morning early, in the middle of the month. In the middle of town, yet there is only the isolated rumble of cars passing in the distance, on other streets. And the occasional slam of a door. The eyes will not resolve this text even as it is written by the hands on the keyboard under the screen. It would be more pleasant if there were no car tyres at all rumbling over the cobbles.
A garage door opens up on the opposite side of the alley, electrical operation, and a man of the church wheels his bicycle out, mounts it, and pedals off down the street. The garage gates slam to automatically behind him, as he is already one-quarter of the way down the street. Another man, dressed in stylish running clothes, wearing a hoodie in this weather, leaves the next door building and jogs off in the direction of the church. Going for a run, it is important for him to be seen to be running. He is very style conscious, obviously.
And yet another man, dragging a small bicycle trailer behind him, leaves a building on the right. He wheels the trailer down to another house, turns the machinearound and carefully puts on wheel on the pedestrian path and one on the pavement. He then goes to get his bicycle.
Later, as the church bells ring for seven, the sound of his trailer receeds up the street.

Now it is time for coffee, now at seven eighteen.

filthy hot saturday

hot and sticky awakening behind the nasal mask. The thing is a nuisance, even if it does help a little. Get up, go to the shower, get rid of some of the stickiness,
get the computer, to write this. Daily notes.
The eyes will not focus properly on things near.
Go to the kitchen, hot drinks. Son awakens, comes out to give a big hug.
nice.
The computer needs to be updated, newer and better software, to fix faults hithertoo unnoticed. So let it work, Make up the coffee for the morning.
Return, the machine has restarted, and wants to know things, say yes or no to automatic internet connections with details of crashes! More data for those who like to play with that kind of thing.
Let the computer finish.

There is a sound of shouting from the window, look out into the alleyway. A butcher’s delivery truck in front of the butchers store, and in the other direction a man carefully loading his bicycle trailer with plastic bags and old toys. He is no longer a young man, hat was long ago.
The trailer is finally piled hig with black plastic bags and other things, and the whole load fixed with stretchable expanders with metal hooks at their ends. Then he goes into the house, and gets his bicycle which he then fixes onto the trailer.
Then he wobble off down the lane.
He has left a tangle of expanders lying on the ground.
The sound of fire brigade klaxon, the Martin’s horns, are to be heard all over the town, approaching, receding. There must be several fire engines, all converging somewhere. They sound like fire brigade horns anyhow, still slightly old fashioned, unlike those electronic horns that the police and the ambulances have.
And then there is silence again.
an undemanding peaceful silence, underscored by the tick of clocks and the sound of children in the distance.
and the pat pat pat pat of footsteps walking down the street outside.
It is only seven in the morning and it is really hot outside.

Fry day second week third year

dozing half asleep half awake neither a viable quantity of either nor an ability to change the situation.
think, and even that does not work, just a carousel of ever the same fury at frustration.

Psychopaths do not have an easy life, they have things to do….

And so, while there are these magnaminous thoughts on the people at work circulating the synaptic routes in the head, the alarm sounds.
The fury dissolves into functionality, take the sweat-sodden sleeping shirt and tousers off and go for a cool wet shower.

The cat squeaks at the bathroom door, squeaks because it is a kitten and has a kitten voice and not a cat voice yet.
It gets a pat on the head. It runs off, going to the kitchen ahead. And that was wrong.
Dress for the day, fresh underwear, and leave the other clothes from yesterday. It is work, and not a fashion show.


Admire the hops growing in front of the balcony. They are for decoration only. and they are nice that way. They have grown twenty feet in the last two months.
Fast plants.

And then sit in front of the hall mirror. A fat old bloke with grey hair sitting on a wood and metal waitingroom chair.

Two bells, downstairs, out the door, down the lane.
Something big is being prepared for the weekend,there is a stage put up outside the town gates.
The bus stop is deserted, people pass by on bicycles. Those who took the bus in winter take the bicycle in summer.

the pig tailed smoker  at the ashtray smoking his cigarette, wearing five-eighths length trousers showing his ankles obove his slippers.
Good morning.
The station door is broken still, and Anastasia has the coffee ready and only wishes good morning as she hands out a new rebate card after throwing the proffered one into the bin.

Free coffee day today.

The train comes in on time, and the second train that should couple to it gently, rams it instead, causing damage.
A loudspeaker announcement tells everyone to disembark and move into the forward part of the train.
So everyone disembarks.
chaos.

Friday 

Thursday, second week of the third year

16.July 20/5

Sound deep sleep, sound of the alarm clock, one beep,... And another, and another untill the clock is found. Get up now, and go to the bathroom after removing that mask. The shower was done last night, so just wash the face a bit, and comb the hair. Shave. There is a new lesion on the left hand side of the nose. The sun is probably the cause of that. Shave... The clock sounds again, in the confusion of the first time it had obviously not been turned off properly.. and take fresh clothing out of the wardrobe. It is the students day today, a stupid party. But, what of it, it is not stupid for them, it is the symbolic end of some years study.

The wife gets up, all that noise, noise of alarms. The cat is excited, there is a chance of entertainment.

Two bells outside, down the stairs. Check the new lock again, and let the door snap to on its own after passing through.

In the square by the church there is a mobile toilet,. newly set up. Probably in preparation for sme festivity over the weekend. It is in front of the showcase window of Grimm's store, the one selling all of that hitchen ware. At the town gate a pigeon flies in low, at eye level, swerving to avoid impact, and then spreading its wings out wide to brake its speedy flight for landing.

It is a day with a completely clear sky, no visible clouds at all. The wheels on the river, those ones made of styrofoam, the artist’s creation,  rotate slowly in the current, as they may well have been designed to do. Altogether a very alert morning. A Thursday stuck between wednesday and Friday. Like all Thursdays that ever  were.

The bus driver is morose. He charges the proffered note, the daily journey begins with those ten minutes on the bus.

Pigtailed smoker is at his usual place in front of the railway station, chatting to his friends. He has a straw hat today, to protect him from the sun

good morning, good morning. Polite greetings all among strangers. Anastasia, the wordless today, takes the money, stamps the card and serves the next customer. Hedgehog is there, at first alone, and then joined by a young man who talks about himself and the firm that he works for. The principal words in his conversation, at least at the beginning-of his sentence are "l" and „we“. Self-centred little asshole full of his own negligible importance.

Oh well, off to the train, on the next leg of the journey to work, 

Wednesday, second week of the third year

15 July 20 is

Lie awake, behind the apnea mask, snorting air in Through the nose.

One bell outside. Lie awake, ponder on things in general, notice that it is brightening up aroutside. Forty two or so degrees northern latitude. And only light cloud.

Two bells, half past four. Take off the mask, turn off the machine, Five and three quarter hours is written on the display. go to the bathroom. Three bells , still lying in bed. A strange sound outside, a growl, or a howl, or a chain saw in the distance. get up to look, and to search for a possible cause. It could be a cat. It could be the kitten. Down the stairs, search. And nothing, so return upstairs. The cat is on the bed, alert, not purring as usual. The kitten may have heard it too.

Four bells,outside, the alarm dock sounds inside. go for a shower, and a shave with that electrical Rasor, that seems to do nothing but worry the facial hair a bit.

Snd after putting on the clothing there is five minutes time to sit at the table and think. The kitten climbs up the trousers leg to sit on the lap.

Five minutes peace.

Out into the street, the new lock clicks to automatically.There are yellow waste bags beside all of the entrances to the buildings, sometimes more, as with the restaurant, and sometimes none, as in the house being rebuilt.

There are about five pigeons picking about there amongst the cobblestones.

City employees in orange overalls are moving about rapidly in the deserted streets, with orange vehicles. They are busy, and claim right of the road, accepting no interference from mere pedestrians,

Fifty yards behind the city gate a woman extinguishes her cigarette by dropping it on the pavement and then treading on it.

She realises that she is not alone, and bends over to pick up the butt and throw it into a nearby waste basket. She is early, Wildo is late, and there is the bas stop, visible through the city gate.

The waterwheels are still there, in the middle of the river. They are kinetic art, made of styrofoam.

An elderly couple in the bus-on their way to the railway station elect to stand in the empty bus rather than to sit about on one of the seats. The woman says she wants to stand, and the man is too much of a gentleman to sit down anyway.

At the station the pigtailed man smokes his cigarette, chatting with friend," Gov Hogan.,, gu Imogen"

The door is utterly broken, and sealed. As is written on the notice affixed thereon.

Well, just use the other door.

Yorma's, just put the money on the counter.

Anastasia brings the coffee. She nay ‚'Magent". Mogen" is the reply.

That's it.
Coffee acquired.

Hedgehog, Moustachio, chat with the dark haired bloke behind the counter operating the roll buttering machine.

A squelching sound emanates from the machine every few seconds. 

Tuesday, second week of the third year

the automatic wakening by mechanical device, works every day.
It was not necessary today. It is the doctors day today, at least a doctors appointment at eight, probably needs an hours wait in the waiting room,

rest in bed till six, a major luxury, this does not happen every day.
And all the noisy bells at six! Churches everywhere in Landshut, ursulineses jodoks martins and all the others too, the names not known now.
get up, prepare the coffee maker and go for a quick wash and shower. It is grey and placid outside, a small town in the early morning, no more.
The little cat is running around, jumping on tables, wanting attention.
Sit in the living room, drink coffee, catch the news, it is one hour and thirteen minutes untill the appointment.
And hear the family’s alarm clock sound, an unpleasant honking noise.

And at eleven minutes to seven the sound of traffic outside increases.
And the sons telephone awakens him withthe sound of a submarine’s klaxon, a regular honking noise.

A morning complete with a steady hiss in the head, and a fast run downstairs to put out the rubbish ready for the bin collection.


Punctually at seven, the workmen in the building site opposite start work, clattering with their tools and buckets. That infamous teutonic punctuality.

monday, second week of the third year

13 July 20/5.

Up early, cannot sleep. Wander about the flat followed by a hungry cat, loud purrs and kitten sounds. Rest on the living room couch for a while and then return to bed. the alarm calls from the other side of the room, struggle up to silence it in the dim light of the overcast early morning..

- There is an empty hair shampoo bottle in the shower, and it is noisy when the stream of

water hits its emptiness. A plastic drum. Procedures as any working day. Search for clothing

in the wardrobe. Having found some, put it on. And the shoes too. Go up to the work room to fetch the camera needed for work. The one that is in a state of repair, or of being repaired.

The cat wants to leave the house too, but being a kitten, it is too young to go gallivanting.

The door lock, now replaced, is strong. It is different, much like a savings box bolted to the door. But it works automatically, that is worthwhile. 'The red light on the sensor outside is offensive, it is too bright. There is no  way known to turn it off, perhaps a piece of black sticky tape will do the trick.

Past the church, and the beer garden of yesterday evening. Down the Theater street to the town gate and the river. The river has those waterwheels in it, large and white, tied to the bridge.. by ropes.

The bus arrives after the shop people have passed on their way into work, trolling slowly and chatting all the white. Two women and a man. The man politely wishes 'good morning" in German. And a . solitary black tight trousered woman passes, searching her backpack for cigarettes as she goes.

        She does not stop under the town gate in order to light one though. She walks on into the distance, package in hand.

        The smokin g area in front of the station is bare, Anastasia has coffee ready without a specific order, and the glass doors to the cafe have not been fixed.

        H+M are at their usual place under the silent tale vision, discussing sport,

and on the platform the mosaic maker, lost in thought, lost to the world.

Board the train, and discover a free seat opposite a man wearing a Red T Shirt.

And the Train passes Moos Burg, To arrive in Freising.  

And on into work to serve all those ritalin doped psychopaths.

seven twelve

A  Morning sky at six. Sunday morning. Relax a while, sleep was deep. Take down the mask, the notice on the turbine says that the deep sleep lasted six hours and twenty minutes.

Go to the bathroom, see the face all lined and scored by the pressure of the straps that held the mask in place.

Oh well, no beau no more.

In the living room, the same everyday untidiness. Time will not change it, there is nothing to improve.

Voices in the street outside. Two young men, arms wrapped around each other stagger down the alleyway. They are both obviously tired, slurred slow speech. Their party is just over, the well-built pair are on their way home. Supposedly.

Today is the twelfth of july,

A day for those who wish to cause trouble.

Let us make a morning coffee.

the day after friday night

disturbed sleep with nightmares of work, wake at five, remain in bed.
The rest is needed, and see there! The next thing is the risen sun pouring it’s light in through the window, the day is running and it is nine in the morning.
The son is long up, looking at the vintage computer game that he had been given for his birthday.
cuddle.
The tinny whistles break the peace of the morning, but they are only in the head, on the right. Hissy whistle, gas jet sort of noise. An untuned static radio his, maybe a reasonable comparision.
No time for self pity, it is there, and seems to be there to stay.
The kitchen, in a sty state again.  Remove the used cutlery from the kitchen worktop, remove the dirty pots and pans from the cooker. Disassemble the Bialetti coffee maker, nine cup size, empty out the old grounds and fill her up with water.
Fill the grinder with beans, start the grinder. Put that ground coffee into the Bialetti, tamp it down, screw on the top and put the whole lot onto the gas cooker.

Continue clearing up the work top and ready the cups and a saucer for the coffee.
Two saccarine into the blue cup, fill it half full of coffee and the rest with  milk. And bring it into the bedroom, where its drinker is waiting.


And take the white cup with black content, no Cream! into the sitting room, start up the laptop
read the mail and
write this post
In the meantime the son is playing at minecraft, an addiction, and the wife is at the flea market, an addiction mimicing the neccessity to buy cheap products.

Dat Saturday has begun, and it could be worse.

friday, first week of the third year

Ahead of time, cloudy grey from the window.

Take the alarm clock to the bathroom, so that it will not go off untended, and waken the house. The cat does not need wakening, it is up already

Wash and shower, dress up for the day. Well, just put the clothes on. Dressing up is something else.

Upon leaving the house see an overweight young men running down the alley in black tight glistening sports clothing. He is tall, has a pronounced belly hanging over the top of his leggier, and has his hair dyed green and blue, and shaved his head on the sides too

The house opposite is denuded 0f its plaster, all of the old arches and brickwork are milk. The day is quite chilly now, but the forecast is for fat weather today. At the corner by the kitchenware store there is a young woman in a black dress sobbing bitterly. Catch a few words, „he was the only“ or „Er war der einzige…“ There is a young man standing beside her, attentive, confused.

The bus stop is deserted, but now there are strange artifacts in the river.

        A huge white waterwheel, rotating slowly in the current. And a platform, a raft. Both are fixed to the bridge with long hawsers, maybe fifty feet long.

        This is art.

A man in running clothes attempts to use the telephone attached to the bus shelter.

It does not work, or he is incapable...

The bus is full, and a friendly bus driver in short trousers takes the money for the fare..

There are few people at the station, and Anastasia has the coffee ready before it has been asked for. She has time for the shortest of conversations today, and a kindly smile for a chatty old gent. Pleasant... Hedgehog, Moustachio and the brown-haired woman are all at their usual table, chatting. They are in high spirits, it is friday.

Spend a short while wondering about that well attired couple at the Grimm s. kitchenware shop, she sobbing, he standing there, uncomfortably embarrassed. Both in black. There is no knowing what was going on, but there is endless room for speculation.

Big Blondy has arrived at the cafe now, she is ready to work.

- It is time to go for the train, passengers are now holding the station’s swing doors for each other. 

And as the train moves in, the mosaic maker in her working clothes walks down the platform and says

"Gutter Morgen"

        -

        e 

thursday, first week of the third year

9.1-20/5

Wake, silence the clock, listen to the cats noises. It is playing hunters again, pouncing on the bed with outstretched legs, attacking human hands that dare move.

get up, and go to the bathroom: 'It is a grey day, a cool day. Wash, and search for a fresh shirt. Brush the hair, all unruly today. One bell. The cat is going completely wild. But it is young yet, it will calm down in time, Maybe in a few years, who knows. Two bells, and wander off down the cobbled alley, the first stage on the way to work. It is a grey day, occluded,. cooler. Pleasantly no.

        Through the town, down towards the river. Through the gate.- The diner women 'are wearing their blue jeans today, on account of the cold.. The bus driver takes the money and produces a paper ticket for a short journey.

        The railway station has more people around it than usual, there are many outside smoking cigarettes. Anastasia has a short temper today, but still, item! silence is golden, and she provides a coffee without a word.

        The doors to the standing-room cafe are locked, for no particular visible reason. Customers need to squeeze past the counter, past all the other customers dressing their drinks with the various lacings available. Lacings, the sugar, milk, various syrups. Starring them to a homogenous mixture, then squeezing a plastic lid on top.

        Hedgehog is chatting to the brown-haired woman, and that is all today.

        Leave for the platform, ’there enjoy the mornings freshness - in the air. The train is delayed for five minutes, finish the coffee on the platform, then throw away the paper cup, plastic lid and all.

        And there come the mosaic maker, she is tired, but rtvt she graces the present company with a polite smile. She is wearing her winter hooded long-sleeved shirt, her working attire. 

The train leaves

wednesday, first week of the third year

8.7.15

Wake all hot, listen to a thunderstorm outside. It rains hard for a while, noisily. The breathing mask is removed, it chokes and is uncomfortable.

The cat is playful today, rushing about the flat in excitement...

There is discomfort in this hot and "humid weather, the skin seems to be undryable after the shower. Everything is damp, drawing moisture from the air.

In the bathroom, hear one bell. It is now a quarter past. Search for clothing, the cat is still full of frisks.

At the sound of the two bells, leave the house, walk down the alley, pause at the house that is being rebuilt. to admire the now visible brick work. They have removed all of the plaster, now the arches of the old windows are visible. That house has been extensively modified over the years.

Walk on through the sleeping town, past the philatelists shop and the kitchen hardware shop. The perfumerie on the other side of the road has large pictures of young people in it's windows as a representation of the users of the perfumes.

There is a bus already at the stop, it is the one with the number four.

Wait alone, the shop people and the office people pass, with a short greeting, as known to me. -

At the station a man runs in, forcing his way ahead. He is a buss driver, andhe wants a quick paper cup of coffee before returning to his waiting bus.

The man with the pigtail is absent today, and Anastasia has the coffee ready before even being asked.

Clever young lady, with her sooty eyelashes.

Lepidopterous

Hedgehog is at his table, talking.

The mosaic maker walks along the railway platform later, looking much the worse for wear, deeply unhappy.

So-The day begins

seven one two

deference to the ambient temperatures,

and the door is still damaged..

Smiley day, Anastasia is in good form.

at the cafe's tables, at the table next to this. one, a man commences to speak with his colleague. after having taken a big bite out of his French roll filled with salami.

The muffled outpouring of indistinguishable minds in atypical result of such ill-considered behaviour.

Unwashed awakening, early bird outside, one hour too early. Steadily purring kitten at the foot of the bed, awaiting petting early in the morning. The pet needs a pat' and w back to rest another hour, thus it is done today. 'A warm early morning that promises to be another hot day.

go to the bathroom, and shower off the stickyness of yesterday Put on the wrong pair of trousers by mistake, the one win the broken zip. Change again, and make sure that all the necessary things are in the bag.

It is early yet, so sit and wait for the church bells to ring. When they have done with 'their 'tolling, down the stairs, out of the door and' into the alleyway.

In front of the church two small cars with muscular young men sitting on their driver's seats  parked with their lowered driver side windows facing each other. These are probably private security toughs employed by some shop  to protect their property from the nights revellers.

They are not as ugly as the paunchy neighbourhood watch vigilantes that hang around early evenings, with their black uniforms and american flashlights,  but police would be preferable.'

The bus stop is deserted today, there are early shopkeepers passing on their way into town. These are always the name people, day after day. The girl that had a white down jacket in winter is in the lightest of summer clothing now, but she still pauses www.rthetowngatetohght her cigarette.

The bus is early today, a young girl runs to be on board on time; the station forecourt is crowded. many more people bustling around than usual. The P. T. smoking man is there, with his guten morgen. Yorma caf  is packed today. There are many more people there than usual. It a just a busy day. Anastasia deals with her customers, all is well. 

two years worth

Grey light, dim cold light on a hot morning. Let us see what is going on.

The cat nibbles at human toes and fingers, there are no mice to gnaw at, or pounce upon. Human appendages will have to do.

It is too early, the day is only set to begin in half an hour. So rest and wait, wait till the black radio-controlled clock sounds its monotonous repetitive tune.Upon cessation of all the bells pealing and all the electronic beeping. , return to the bathroom to receive a blast of cold water in the face from the hard piece of the shower. So much for the thought of gentle awakening.

Brush the teeth with a patent sprung toothbrush by Best. Then aft to the bedroom, search for the days clothing. It starts to rain outside, so get a rain jacket. The kitten is making noises like a Minecraft villager, it is likely dissapointed that it is not being fed.

And downstairs as the bells sound for the half hour, walk down the freshly sprinkled street, the church sun-illuminated, glowing against a black.sky. The sky is occluded by the clouds that had produced the rain. There are very few people on the streets , as usual, they are all dressed in summer clothing, light; and in accordance with the hot weather.

It will be a hot day, a younger couple approaches. rte dressed in the mimsdule remnant of amputee blue panes, a tee-that, and flip-flops, he in short trousers, shirt, and running shoes...: There is a different driver in the bus today, a man normally talkative, today Monday-silent.

The pig tailed smoking man at the station. wearing three- quarter length trousers today, in deference to the ambient temperatures,

and the door is still damaged..

Smiley day, Anastasia is in good form.

at the cafe's tables, at the table next to this. one, a man commences to speak with his colleague. after having taken a big bite out of his French roll filled with salami.

The muffled outpourings of unusable minds in a typical result of such ill-considered behaviour. 

brutalsonne Sonnetag

up at four snorting warm air through the mask, breathing in the sticky night fortified by the the tacky ribbed pressure tube.
Turn of the turbine, get up, gather together the notebook.
Cannot concentrate. Read about the lost MH370, with all its passengers and cargo gone for years now. As if deleted from the face of the earth.
And if it is in the sea, the sea will return it.
If it is on land it is hidden.
All a question of time.
No concentration, eyes are heavy, there is a noise of partys in the middle distance outside. A police horn, a Martin’s horn, sounds.
Silence, like the sound cut with a knife.

A few minutes later the sound of subdued revellers walking down the Martin’s church alley.
Still no concentration, cannot write, so back to bed.
No mask, no tubes.

Awaken four hours later, it is bright and hot.
The suns sunday has started, the weather is hot and humid already. That Sahara air, immigrated fugitive air, bringing a taste of summers to come should the climate change in time as the scientists forecast.
The son is at the computer, studying logical connections, then playing jump and runs. Computers make their own distractions.
The cat plays hunter on the ground, kicking and  teasing a plastic bottle cap with her paws, then picking it up in her mouth and carrying it around with pride.

Set up the Bialetti, and the son wishes to use the special porcelain service bought in the flea market. As a sign of special care it is hand washed before use.
It is grey and white patterned, in a fifties fibre pattern.

The sun will be relentless today, that is so.
And the tinny tuss hiss is here to stay it seems.

The cat slaughters the fallen roll of kitchen towels on the sitting room floor, and when it is tired of that commences to chase its own tail.

The day is quiet yet, cars are rumbling in the distance, one at a time, the noise interspersed with periods of peace and quiet.

saturday, hot and depressive

Finished before the day has begun, say goodbye to the night. Today will be hot too, still and hot. The night was filled with sounds of revelry and the sound of the last homegoers.
No pills anymore, things are not so cheerful, and constantly tiresome.
Coming down is more unpleasant than going up
Deserted house, no one to speak to, all asleep.
A day of nothingness.
Bathroom, fetch the laptop, write this nonsense. It will amuse no one, as a piece of data drifting from one knot in the net to the next.
 The little cat is up and purring. It climbs onto the window ledge and looks into the alley. It has no fear, no real understanding of what it is seeing. What is a car to cat?
It returns and commences a hungry purring.
Distract the son from his computer, tell him to feed the cat now. Without complaint he gets up and goes to the kitchen, the kitten running after him in anticipation of food. And follow and set up the coffee machine, grind the beans, and discard the old grounds, fill the base with water, fill the coffee container and screw on the top end of the machine.
Bialetti.
Put the whole lot on the gas cooker and turn on the gas.
and watch the son watch a cartoon film of a detective with springs on his feet and an inflatable overcoat.

And then collect my coffee, which has been turned off in the meantime.

And so the weekend begins

d5 w49 year 2

up earlier, and take the clock into the bathroom. Wash and shave, turn off the alarm sounds now emanating from the clock.
Light summer clothes, take the car today. The thought of listening to self styled experts venting their fury on the railway company during the foreseeable evening delays is not bearable.

Some cold coffee and a slice of bread, butter and cheese make a start for the day. It is hot out, and today will get hotter. Hot sahara winds blowing north and covering Europe with their welcome glare.
And think about the work to be done today.

Pack a comb and remove the sandpaper from the carry bag.

Out in the lane, it is bright and warm. Find the blue car and leave the town.

d4 w49 year 2

        silence but for the Burr Burr of the young cat. Brush teeth and comb hair in the bathroom, and sit on the floor of the bedroom in front of the wardrobe. It will be hot day today, search for a pair of light trousers. 

Silence the now-beeping alarm clock.

Leave the jacket on the hook today, it will definitely be hot, it being warm already.

        When the glasses are found, leave the house. A lone cyclist rides up the centre of church lane  erratically weaving from ride to side. At the side of the church a group of four pigeons. pick around at the ground, a fifth one is on its own in the gutter,. A loner pigeon. A young woman passes by on a very elegant mountain bike;

        at the bus stop there is a man taking photographs using a data tablet, pictures of the river in the sunrise He could be from china, going by his appearance and demeanor.

        The bus arrives, and the walrus accepts a ten Euro note, and gives the change. He has a very guttural accent, maybe Turkish. „gain broblem

        At the station bus stop there are is a malt even writing to board the bus, and the PT. smoker, in blue jeans and a short sleeved shirt, much the name as in the dead of freezing winter wishes good morning.

        Anastasia is ready with the coffee before a word is spoken. and in the corner of the small waiting room, the standing- only cafe, write this blog stuff oblivious to the events around...

        The passage under the railway platforms is busy, the train is just coming in.

        On the one side the passenger train, on the other a seemingly endless line of cargo wagons, full

of jet fuel for holidaymakers. 

d3 w49 year 2

lst July 2015

Early cat plays and purrs. It is well before five in the morning, still dark outside. The cat playful, bites fingers, claws hand. It is still small, this does not hurt.

sit up, take the alarm clock in the hand.

Wait,

at five it will beep.

It does, but  once only. All the bells in the town, Saint Martin's, the Ursulites, ring. The sound comes in through the open window, along with the light of the commenced dawn:

The cold water turns hot, shampoos and soaps. Do not bother with shaving, but brush the teeth. And return to the bedroom. The kitten is playing at being the hunting cat, hiding in ambush and jumping at passing feet.

It is another blue shirt day.

Wait for the time to pass, and at half past, leave the house. The neighbour, the one that is building, is putting notices in everybody's letterboxes, in all of the houses in the street.

The windows should remain closed writes he, on account of the dust that will ensue when the plaster is removed from the facade of his house.

Chat for a while, and proceed through the town. Alone at the bus stop, watch all those name vehicles pass, all on their way to some appointment or other The walrus driver again today, he almost has the ticket ready before the money is paid.

at the destination, cross the road, greet the pig tailed smoker.

The door to the station is broken yet again, they will never fix it.

Anastasia grins, takes money, makes coffee. Big Blondy hands it out, unsmilingly. And there is Hedgehog, chatting to the brown-haired woman, that is the beginning of the day.