A good resolution

Up, skwalky sounds from the sons bedroom, Alarm alarm. Six in the morning, his friends call to play. He is the administrator of their cyberspatial playground, a country where cubular mannequins chase each other across a landscape made of blocks, avatars all, playing by impossible rules. And so popular, a space for kids only, no grownups allowed, and parents banned anyhow.

The cat turns on its purr, a steady vibration, like some rotating drive of a big machine. Food, attention, all she wants.

Get up make up the coffee, visit the orchid while heat is on, the brown brew in the make. Meanwhile it is nine, there are now the voices of three twelveyear olds in the bedroom. There are only the voices really there, the other parts of the boys are still at home. Thankful for small mercies say good morning gentlemen.

´Morgen, die Herren

Muggyheaded hiss eared.

Stiff little finger, the finger on the left hand that is healing.

Go for a walk today,  it is Sunday,

A good resolution

Sixteen geishas in outline

night despair, no hope of sleep. The mask it hisses and burbles, drift off and back again. Five in the morning the cat pours on the purrs, making a considerable noise.
It is the weekend. No early morning food today, cat. Cat wakes the wife thought. Cat is let out into the yard. Perhaps not what it wanted, who knows.
Up at eight thirty then, some deeper sleep was possible after all. Goody gumdrops.

The orchid, then find clothing, things to wear for this work free day. It is all OK now, Sleep must have been surreptitious, Hypnos sneaking in silently and spreading his cloak, leaving no memory and no sign of his presence. Make a small breakfast, the son is up and talking to his friends. The sun is up and visible somewhere too, the dull dark grey of the winter Saturday is not there now.

Live with that and be happy.

Last year was the warmest year on record, soon there will be hippopotami in the Isar, elephants along the Rhine. And the Alps may be bare of snow.

Need to go to the barber today, they may have a moment to spare. Harbour at the barber? That would be good, for the wool on the head looks like a silvery sheep in the winter's deep.
Sitting at the end of the living room table, the son's schoolbooks on the other end, looking at the ink drawing by Claudia Carmen, the geisha in varying moods. Sixteen  Geishas in outline drawn on packing paper with a red ink face depicting various moods. The drawing has been around for twenty two years now

These people are not good for the sore head

29th of January 2016
 Bad night, good wine the evening before, one thing leads to another. And things that are not crimes are punished any way.
The seaside melody across the room, get up, turn it off. The cat is excited, it is demanding attention today, nocturnal feline is.
.
go to The loo, or the bathroom, say hello to the orchid on the windowsill.

 Shower, leave the showing to the electric shaver at work, Clothes, white shirt black trousers, socks and the walking boots. against the salt the city spreads on its pavements in winter. Empty is the alley until the main street is reached, where the Friday market  is being set up. There is the man in his transparent plastic sheeting stall again, cutting sausages apart. Another way to start the day. at the bus stop look back and see Dolores approaching out of the distance, a short profile, a cut - out against the town gate, the gate being lit by the street lighting, the bricks in a glow of sodium lamplight the Bus, in the glare of fluorescent lighting, see that Dolores is wearing a dark imitation-fur coat over her hoodie, the hood of which is covering her head. She has her leopard print handbag with her, as always. As always, she leaves the bus one stop ahead of the station, a stop called Hopmanggweg.

 The railway station's square is bleak, deserted. It is glistening in the damp air. The automatic sliding doors move aside upon entry, and the service girl at the cafe asks, enquires. A large coffee and nothing else. And a lid from the counter. The lids are in a stock, pressed to each other, and are impossible to detach from each other. Take one from a different stack, it works. The television is showing mixed doubles from Melbourne , prancing couples trying to outdo each other. Fast reflexes, , plenty of tension. Hexed Dibbles. Ball boys running across the courts with an expression conveying an impression of the greatest haste. Freeing the court up from spent tennis balls. The courts are coloured blue, a colour that is in some way unreal. Waiting room blues.
The daily routine at the tall small round table. Leave the room for the tracks, yes, make tracks for the platform. The Rosenheim Diesel us in...

 stand at the other platform as the two trains couple,  to take deform of one big train which will take it's passengers all the way to Munich, if they want.
 <Here is the usual competitive pushing and shoving at the carriage door. At least half the seats inside are free, but pushing is a habit. An elbow-loving society. And then a small group of office people start shouting at each other, laughing loudly at their own jokes, making stupid impersonations, indulging in excessive formalities. A pain.

write and to drive a car at the same time.

28 January 2016
seaside melody from the small table, from the telephone resting there on the small table. get up, wipe across the surface of the telephone to turn off the alarm.Feline morning greetings, the cat in high hopes of a feed.
Visit the orchid first, and brush the teeth. Return to the bedroom and put on yesterday's clothes. Hurry. Feed the cat, feed the cat to shut it up. It entangles itself between legs, jumps or tables. Pat the pet on the head, purr. Pack the bag, and leave the house. The streets are dry, the alleyway has no more than a few damp glistning g spots. It is warm. and today is a car day, there is a need to be in work early. A sick computer, a rotten apple- infected driver, or something. So technical. Such a nuisance.The roads are deserted. Drive past the gaol, and into the big cross roads. Then the country roads, the robot petrol station with the illuminated red advertising lights, red Neon. Red neon showing the prices at the petroleum products.The Motorway, the German Autobahn, sans speed limits, Drivers in a hurry driving fast and some others are just fast for fun. But even when not driving fast, without speeding the car is faster than the train. But it is impossible to write and to drive a car at the same time.

telly is still showing tennis

27 January 2016
silent alarm, telephone on the table creating sounds by vibration.It is enough. Visit the orchid, it will need watering tomorrow.Brush the teeth, and return to find fresh clothing. Take the things from the wardrobe, white shirt, black trousers. Like a choir, a choirboy.
The cat is seeking attention, the cat receives attention. A small dollop of slimy food on her plate, and she is happy.
And leave the house for the slithery frosted pavements of the cobbled alley as the church bells sound. They sound twice for the half hour, and next thing is, there is grimm's shop, with the raised type on the grey wall. Wooden hoarding still covering the perfume shop, still selling despite the rebuild. Attracting customers with the promise of rebates.The town gates passed, and Dolores greeted. She is in her sad face made today, oh well. The waning moon is high in the sky over the theatre, the shopping centre and the tall brick spire of Martin's church. Over all this there is the castle, grimly watching over the town from the top of it's hill.

Take the bus to the station,  one Euro and ten cents.The controlling system for the announcements does not appear to be working correctly., the right announcements being made at the wrong time..,

The cute coffee girl, Anastasia, everybody's darling, all smiles today. This must her good day. A good day for her, any way. Take the cardboard cup, find a white plastic lid that fits it, and go to the tall table opposite the television.

The telly is still showing tennis.
Hedgehog is there, blue overalls and safety boots.And the train is timely today, that's it and all.

Munich in an hours time

26 January 2016

The cat is back, the cat is back since yesterday. It purrs away, beside the bed, a not unhappy cat. Since it's return yesterday morning it has been alternately sleeping and purring.
* 'I do like to be", that melody of the sea, sounds from the telephone, putting an end to a situation of somewhere between sleep and conscious thought, and lets the actions commence that will start the day.
  Gather the clothing, put on walking boots today. The salt on the pavements is bad for other shoes. Pat the cat, pet the petite on the head. Parr.
Leave the house,the streets are wet and slippery today. There is a light on in one of the windows on the third floor in one houses at the church square. There is a jacket hanging out to air in the window, up there.
Around the bend, past the builder's hoarding enclosing the Douglas perfume shop, miss de illuminated window of a butcher's, advertising his excellent Veal. The proprietor of the discount bakers store is sitting in The window of his shop drinking coffee, talking to one of his employees.

The man with the white fluffy hair is at the bus stop,smoking his early morning cigarette as he waits. Dolores is there, cheerful , wishes a good morning. And The bus arrives, and the driver accepts his coins.Apparently he has forgotten to open the rearward door on his bus, a man comes forward and asks if he may now leave the bus by the front door. That is sarcasm for you! At the next stop, the Christos Kirsch, an inebriated pair of male party goers board the bus. Their voices are very loud, they shout at each other. The one is drinking a coffin coffein drink, an energy drink. At the next stop the distracted driver fails to halt the bus, and the persons wishing to leave the bus shout in dismay. The driver halts the bus between two stops, lets the people out, putting the blame for the mishap on them, claiming that they had pressed the request button too late. A man unwilling to admit his own mistake, it was obvious that he had overlooked the regular bus stop.

Crossing the station plaza see all the smokers congregated under the porch in front of the station's entrance. The wet smokers square is deserted.Anastasia makes the coffee, cheerful as almost always, takes the money, waving the note in the air befor putting it into the till. Why do they do that?
Big. B. is at the buttering machine, making comments on the state of the world. Moustachio? is listening, Hedgehogs is grinning.
Tennis from Melbourne dominates the television program today, men chasing balls with rackets in their hands. A carefully placed camera, ensuring that the tennis court is perfectly centred and the name of the venue written thereon perfectly parallel with the bottom of the screen.



And at six the small diesel train from Rosenheim comes into the station, disgorging its passengers allover the platform.
It is Time. Time to leave for the platform, to board the train from Passau, the one that will reach Munich in an hours time.
Sent from my iPhone

Massless

25 January 2016 Disturbed night, maskless, cat less. The mask was left off on purpose, this being to see whether or not it is still necessary. The cat has vanished, it went away and never came back. Not yet anyway.
"I do like to be beside the sea" sounds from the small telephone serving as an alarm clock, whilst the real one is waiting for new batteries. The wife is up, turns the light on. The day begins, find socks, shorts, shirt trousers. The hair, damp last night and slept upon is standing in a strange dishevelled way. Find the pill for the mind, and the money is in its wallet. The jacket, go upstairs for the shoes, and then down to the street, the street soaked with rain today. Rain glistening cobblestones reflecting the streetlights, a deserted soaked vista. Glistening points every where  bright glints of light reflected from every very wet surface. At the bus stop isas one person already, the white. haired man with his cigarette. and then onother man, nervously studying the timetable and then, there it is approaching front the distance, The bus No. 1.
The short fast bus ride over, and the steps up to the station's entrance are climbed. Anastasia in blue jeans and brown boots today, early morning pert and bright. The cafe, Australian tennis on the television, H + M! exchanging witticisms. It is a warm wet day, the weather has changed again the snow has gone. The train is shorter today, due to a breakdown, faulty rolling stock, or what have you. The Train attendant requests all to remove their bags from the seats, to make space for those boarding the Train in Moosbary.
 After that stop the train carriage is full, people need to stand in the aisles.
Despite all this, rail is gaining in popularity as a means of transport.

and simple help to simple sums.

strains and stress of the seals about the nose, the seals sealing the crack between the hard plastic of the mask applying pressure to the perinasal areas of the face.
Still, breathing is easier with the mask and the attendant compressor,

the cat has not returned since yesterday morning, where it has gone to nobody knows nor can imagine. No, much can be imagined, nothing is known.
Son comes in to wake his father up, homework exercises are to be done, and coffee is to be made. The days breakfast drink has been prepared by the son and is burbling away. The mess from last nights cooking is still decorating the kitchen, it looks disastrous. Whilst the first bitter black drink of the day is on the way, tidy up the kitchen, fill the dishwasher, wipe the worktops. Things that should have been done last night, but there was that incredible attack of drowsiness, rendering the mess invisible, just sleep was all that was called for.

Now it is morning and the untidiness is an eyesore, apparent to the awakened eyes. Like the aftermath of a party, without the party and without the other excesses involved.
Maybe all of this is just a matinal bad humour.

neologistic nonsense, no no no.

son son, away from the machines, sun solaris nine the latest craze,  and back to the homework, simple multiplication of fractions. Fractions that used to be every mechanics stock in trade in predecimal days, cause pain now that people think in points and commas, decimally decimating an instinctive system. The son is worried about the cat, the last sign of which are footprints in the snow heading over to the neighbours house. Small cat prints.

A second cup from a second pot, and simple help to simple sums.

and there are things to be done.

wake, struggle with straps of that mask,the cat is crowing, making noises, demanding attention. Crowing is what cocks do, the cat is croaking, mammalian and not birdlike sounds! Still, the time is right, cocks crow at dawn, and this is it.
That fuggy funny feeling in the head, fried brains for breakfast, eyes unfocused due to tiredness and sleep.

Out of the bed, led the cat our. Leave the door open a crack, and- whack! the cat is back.
It wants food.
OK.
OK.
OK, so it gets a few spoons of gooey cat food from a fresh tin.
Now the animal shuts up, it has it's mouth full.

No more sleep now, find those trousers, put them on, fresh underpants of course,shirt and pullover, and go into the living room. Knock at the sons door, go in, he is sitting at his computer like some Medusa, long red hair hanging over his back,unkempt uncombed strands reaching down in snake like fronds over his back. Mine craft, and on the side he is installing a Sun system. At eleven years of age doing things his father would have been unable to do at thirty two.

He mumbles something about this being a new system, one to add to his collection.

And then make coffee, and a slice of bread. Take this silver machine and start to write this page as the warm morning drink is made.

And later, the son brings the wife a cup, before he returns to his games.
He has a choir practice today too.
This morning.

A Saturday morning, and there are things to be done.

taking it's course without hitches.

22.1.16
'
I do like to be beside the seaside" from the mobile telephone.the awakening melody this Friday. Attentive cat, super-purr. give her some food, she is not really interested.
Visit the orchid, and brush the teeth. The orchid is still surviving in the bath­room, the cat is attentive as the clothes for The day are doomed, Swatch behind the ears, give her a bag back out. She purrs, and settles down on the writing table. The pill is taken and now it is time to leave the house. The day is frosty, it is still dark outside. Does the cold make it seem darker? Down the alley, jacket-wrapped, to the main street where the early market stalls are being set-up. A man wishes good morning from behind the plastic sheeting that is protecting his stall from the cold. It could be a fast food stall, who knows. First at the bus stop,  to be joined later by a man with white fluffy hair, hair like bog cotton. He is smoking. Another man arrives, and there is Dolores in the distance. A slow, fumbling sort of walk. A good morning in passing, now the bus is there. Pay the fare, and sit down inside on one of the rearward facing seats. There are ten people on the bus today. The driver is not listening to radio, he is a silent driver.
The stops are passed, seem to pass by. They are all announced on the speaker system- 'Christus Kirche Stadt park, Hofuryerwey, at some stage then Bahnhof. And it is time to leave, to walk across the frosty station square, past the yellow markings on the ground inside of which smoking is permitted, outside of which smoking is verboten. Up the steps, into the station hall, and right into the Anastasia-led Yormas cafe. The good young woman is there, remembering her customers, slightly aloof, friendly in a distant busy sort of way. The paper cup of coffee, and afterwards the area with the tall tables, take out the notebook and scribble down the day's superficialities, much as they had happened up to now.
Hedgehog and Moustachio! exchanging banter with Big.B., the waitress  cleaning the serving area.
Some things never change. Maybe they just take their time changing.
At six, leave for the train. The new automatic sliding doors seems to have broken down already, ah dear. Board the train as it arrives on platform five, and see that there, an empty seat with a table for the notebook and the coffee cup. All that is missing is a small table lamp to illuminate the it. But these are modern carriages, the days of Pullmann seating and comfort are long gone. The sparkling of the trains electrical connection to the overrhead wires illuminates the white snow outside with its blue light. The sparking is due to the frost on the overhead power supply for this electrically driven train, this always happens when it is cold.


And so the train stops in Freising, after having collected more passengers in Moosburg..
This is the last day of the week, and it is taking it's course without hitches. 

Wait

21.1.16
Drowse, hear the cat calling from outside. Ignore her for now, wait for the alarm clock. The alarm clock does not ring, it shows the wrong time entirely. Perhaps the batteries have run down. No matter, the wife informs that it is seven, and that's all right, as there is a therapy appointment at eight. Time for breakfast, time enough to make some.
 The son is getting ready for school, he has filled his bag with his books, And after the coffee, pet the cat, leave the house. There is snow on the sidewalk, clear it away. The neighbour is clearing his snow too. Each has his own area, his own style. Spread some salt and grit, so that no passing pedestrian will come to harm.
And off through the meanwhile-awakened town,  pass the church, and along the arcades. Cross the side streets, let the car's stop. They do not have the primary right of way, they need to stop. These are the rules of the road here. Hurry past the fancy shops and the old gaol again, and with minutes to spare enter the therapists  horrible building. Up to the top  floor and into the  room.
Wait.
The man comes out, and says " into number four".This is a small room, with a table and a bench. Pressing and bending the hand, warming it up in a paraffin  bath, a sudden pallid coating on the hand, making it corpse like. And further kneading and bending, and advice on what exercises need to be done to advance the healing process.
Then it is over, out into the street, and on to the nearest bus stop.
Wait
admire the snow-clad tower of the gaol and the church spire behind it. All very pretty, but too late for Christmas. The bus arrives, six minutes date, pay the man and take a seat. The ride to the station is different today, it is daylight, there are more people on the streets, the bus is full. It is, after all, ten to nine. The cafe in the station is deserted at this time, most of the traffic has already passed-
The next train is in half an hour, so stand at one of the small tables and drink a large coffee. Commence writing these notes, continue until the train is due. It was only twenty minutes, the time to the platform and the purchase of the coffee, and the consultation of the timetable deducted from the half hour wait.
Wait.
The platform is well populated by old age pensioners, all taking advantage of the cheap day fares. They are slower, some doddering. A Beatles song comes to mind.
All of those elderly couples, taking their amusements, having time all the while to do as they please. The train rolls through the snow covered landscape, passing snow-covered villages, on its way to Freising. There is a man with a dog standing at a tree in the distance. The dog is frisky, The man appears to be urinating against the tree. These are things that are to he seen from a moving train in the morning. Change in Freising, for the local train The service is dysfunctional today, the train stops between it's regular stations and waits.
Wait.
It is waiting for the train from the airport, which is delayed. The driver tells his passengers this, using the trains loudspeaker system. Because of this, there will be a long wait in Neufahrn: the bus will have gone. The distance remaining is too great to be dealt with on foot, it is still four miles.
Wait.

one makes the coffee, the other takes the money

'A small failure, an oversight in the setting of the alarm clock the previous night. And look at the clock in the dark now, showing five thirty-
Dress and find the fresh clothing for the day. Hurry It had been an uneasy evening yesterday, lost in sleep and false awakenings and the sound of the cat calling for attention.
20.1.2016
get dressed and leave the house. The lock on the door has frozen. Hardly washed, into the cold, into the old lanes.There are a few people wandering around, going about some business or other. Take the later bus, the one that drives via the hospital, a small extra loop in it's route. The details are hazy, sleep has not gone entirely.
See the stati9n cafe in passing, there is no time for that any more: Hurry!
-and, having arrived at the platform, see that the Train is delayed. For a few minutes ,  say the letters glowing on the electronic arrivals board. Resolve to tahe the second half of the train, the first half down at the foot of the platform seems to be full. The second half of the train, the part coming from Passau, rolls in slowly, to couple gently with the first half that is in the station. The waiting passengers are impatient, for whatever reason. The doors will not open until coupling is completed. There is one damaged door on the train-This probably explains the delay. Later on, this is confined, a "Tuerschaden" says the voice over the speaker. and the delay is for five minutes. On arrived in Friezing establish that the little local train has already left on time. so go into the Freezing Freising cafe, a busy unriendly place, in all the same colours, it is a Yorma's cafe too. Join the queue and obtain a cup of brew.
They are Italiens serving here, one makes the coffee, the other takes the money. 

showing his relief from his itch to the whole world.

awaken in the fumbling darkness, a discontented ugly winter.Find that clothing laid out for a cold day last night, the weather was forecast cold, and it is very cold. Dressed for cold weather, and leave the house. The streets are dark and deserted, the only other person to be seen is a man in orange clothing, the safety attire of the municipal employees who take care of the waste bins, and who sweep the streets.These men are up at an early hour in every weather. Pass the wire fence around the perfume shop, the shop is being rebuilt. The river seems to be steaming, the water vapours rising from it condense immediately upon contact with the cold air. Four persons are waiting at the bus stop, all expressing different degrees of  experience coping with the frost. All are buttoned up, all have turned up collars, some are, walking back and forth. Every thing to keep the chill out and the warmth emanating from their bodies in. Some are relaxed,  one has wound up in his scarf like a Tuareg, with only eyes showing. Dolores is here too, leopardskin patterned handbag, black headscarf and dark, worn coat.

The bus ride is spent trying to regain warmth, trying to accumulate that which had been lost in the five min­utes at the bus stop.

Anastasia is serving coffee at the Yormas cafe us, all is well there, there are no queues, no waiting to place an order. Even though it is warm in the cafe, Hedgehog and Moustachio are huddled in a corner, talking quietly to each other.
A tennis player in Australia is to be seen on the television. He is visible from behind, waiting for his opponent to serve. He is happily scratching his backside, relieving an itch in the area between his buttocks, he does not realise that there is a television camera with a wide angle lens right behind him,  showing his relief from his itch to the whole world.

The train is. full today, there are no free seats, or hardly any.This is one of the drawbacks of public transport.

Jupiter would be visible outside the office window, were it not for the atmosphere

2016 tn the dark at this morning, there is a sudden sense of Time. It is time to get up and to move. So sit up and look at the clock, press the illumination button. It shows the number fifty-six in large digital letters made up of sections of light emitting die ode. Nonsense. That is not a time, it is a demonstration of technical failure. It could be any time at all, the radio reciever has failed to make contact with the time transmitter.
-getup, go to the orchid, look at the watch, it is six in the morning. No, it is five to five. Everything is oK, awakening was automatic, it took place without the alarm clock. Brush the teeth, wash the face, return to the bedroom. stroke the purring cat. Things are different today. Put on the clothes and gather up the bag in the bedroom.. Find all of the things needed for the day- The small  bear printed in plastic by a friendly American at yesterday's trade show is in the pocket, a small orange hear.
Feed the cat, she is strangely nervous today, and leave the house. The streets are dry, and largely free of snow, even yesterdays snow has mostly gone. The forecast snowstorm did not take place. There is a small salt-scattering snowplough speeding through the street, orange beacons ablaze. It was ordered for the snow that did not come, and is now searching in its frustration. The salt that it is scatting is an unnecess­ary duress for the environment, a salty assault on the combined street drainage and sewage system in this town. There is Dolores at the bus. stop. Good Morning. She bows today. Then two men, one with long white hair, and one with a dog equipped with a dog jacket and dog boots, all against the cold. Subside into a daze after the bus has been boarded , a daze until the station is reached.
And there is Big B. of Yorma, struggling to deal with the crowds of people, maybe twenty. Go to the self service counter and get a cup, a paper cup, of coffee, pay, and join Moustachio! and Hedgehog in the stand up cafe. They are both dour today, subdued. People come in, exchange greetings, there are many people under way today. More than usual, perhaps this is on account of the weather, or the forecast of the same.  Train is late, it is full, and it is filled even further from the crowds on the platform. It is madness, what is going on, but it is all different today. Stand in the train writing these notes. These notes on paper, to be placed in an invisible space for the world to peer at through small windows 

reminds me of a pop song from some time ago.

wake at eight, excitement Sunday, go to a fair. Computers and computer toys, hand made, homemade. Call themselves makers. People who make things.
get up listen to son being got out of bed, Wash, prepare for the day.

short and sweet, the cat in the hall, confused. She feels the excitement. Wear a red shirt today, might as well be old man gaudy. May listen now to people explaining concepts they barely understand.

Prepare for the day, drink a cup of coffee, and remember that it will be necessary to free the car of snow.
Sit down to type this, chaos, already fetched the shoes.
This will be a strange day, an odd morning.

The sons friend on the telephone, he will wait at the station.

reminds me of a pop song from some time ago.

melt and go the way of all surface water

saturday silent morning, turn to one side, the right hand side, edge of the bed, pull the knees up towards the chin. Now the lower legs from the feet up to the knees are over the bed's edge, and may be lowered to the floor as the body above the waist comes into a vertical position. Sitting at the edge of the bed, and the next move is to go to the  orchid, tend to the personal requirements, ablution, removal of the nocturnal deposit on the teeth, dental maintenance work. The orchid on the window shelf above the old bathtub seems to be waiting for summer, the plant is a native of warmer countries.
Having dressed make coffee in the kitchen, that mornings addiction. The son is doing his homework sitting at the dining room table in the living room.
And the mind is working as from behind a veil, a veil that soaks up all communication with reality. Look at the coffee pot, identify it, realise that ground coffee is needed, and observe that the hands outside the veil are not capable of finding or operating the grinder. The overall requirements are understood, are visible, but the details necessary for a successful execution of the task at hand are not currently available. The mind observes the bodies fumbling early morning stupid incompetence. And is enraged by it, seeks blame elsewhere. No, this is wrong. It is the systems incapability to organise itself, just a mass of desires confronted with a nonfunctioning guidance system. Wish to grind coffee and cut a slice of bread. Look at the container, know that it needs filling with water, but do not know where the tap is. Once the tap is found, all runs automatically. Is this the first sign of body systems seriously deviating from their ideal understood functionality, or is it just not yet wakened parts of the mind being unavailable for reference as usual? It is no third parties fault.
The tinnitus hiss has moved to the centre of the head, the son is now watching cartoons on television. the coffee is made, the day is begun.
The son is off to Gospel choir, the wife has gone shopping and single snow flakes are falling outside, drifting towards the ground that will end their flight for now.
If these snowflakes do not melt they may be picked up by some breeze and blown into a drift. Otherwise, they will just rest there, to ultimately melt and go the way of all surface water.

"alarm sounds fifteen"

Alarm sounds fifteen minutes after attaining consciousness. conscious of the surroundings, the darkness. get out of bed, sort the days clothing, and go to the B-room, the room with the orchid in the corner. Shower, wash the hair, brush the teeth and shave. Fifteen minutes and then back to the bedroom, put on the clothes, pat the pet cat onthe head. The glasses need to be searched for today, when found, leave the house, leave the cat, it is complaining, it wants food. The snowstorm that had been forecast for this day has just commenced, large soggy flakes cohering to the cobbles of the alleyway. It is wet and slippery, it is just that little lit to warm. The Friday market is being set up, the stall owners are, however, subdued. There will be less custom today if this snow continues to fall. Dolores at the bus stop, leopardskin bag in hand, sitting in the bus shelter. "good morning", Dolores, women of dolorous appear­ance. She smiles, maybe not sad at all-
Bus driver and friend are chatting, and telling each other jokes to start the day with.. By the time the bus reaches its station, the snow has died down to a sort of frozen drizzle. Cross the streetlamp-dimly lit forecourt of the railway station and enter the brightly lit freshly cleaned station hallway. There are mats behind the door to dry the water of the soles of the shoes .
Anastasia is there, makes a large coffee and asks whether this will always be required in future. For future reference only. The large paper cup of coffee usually lasts all the way to Freising, which is nice. Stand at the table, opposite Hedetog and Moustachio!, seconds later the first words "alarm sounds fifteen" are already in the notebook, and the first sip taken from the green lidded coffee mug. At six it is time to leave for the train, it is time to use that dark tunnel under the tracks, time to climb the stairs up to platform No. 6, and it is the time to find a seat in the waiting carriage, time for writing this account, and then the message comes that, due to a storm warning, the Passau part of the train will be delayed for some time. So the train remains in the station,-for a total of six minutes, waiting for its second half . A short delay, considering the chaos now probably taking place on the motorway. and the peace in the train.

white lady and the young engineer.

Thursday 14.1.16
...after finding the clock in the dark, him and taming firmed it off, gone to the bathroom, and said good morning to the orchid, done all the other early weeny things, sit, and listen to the clock ticking. That is the hall dock, an old electric school clock. A mechanical machine with an electric winder, and restored by yours truly.
A three-quarter second pendulum gives the time.  Saved years ago.
This is the morning rush, arriving at the bus stop just in time, watching Dolores board the bus, then paying the driver.
Think about the deserted town, the streets empty and all of the inhabitants sleeping, as the bus drives towards the railway station. sodium street lighting, dimly visible pavements, bright glaring car headlamps. Traffic lights fulfilling their daily course of red yellow. green and back again.All day and night for active accident preventation.

The hairy smoker is in the cafe now, buying his soft drink and his cigarettes.
Big Blondy is in a flurry, she is alone serving in the cafe today. Her colleagues must be elsewhere.
Hedgehog and Moustachio! discussing their things and thoughts in the cafe, under the silent screen of the television set high on the wall. Hedgehog says" good morning". A serious man these days, no idea of where his work is, he has no obvious marks of identity, no typical workmans clothing.He is in the cafe early almost every day. Moustachio wears those grey working trousers with big   pockets, attached outside, and handy webbing tool holders.Even a special pocket to hold a collapsible two metre metre stick, a traditional tool here.. None of your measuring tapes.!
And at six in the morning, one hour after wakening, go to the platform to board that waiting train,waiting for it's second half to arrive from Passau.
Having boarded, feel the shudder as the Passau train couples with the vehicle waiting in Landshut.The ticket collector, the train attendant, has already done his job cheking all the tickets as the coupled trains, move out of Landshut as one, to start their journey to Munich, with stops in Mooshburg and Freising.

There will be a transfer in Freising, and conversation with the white lady and the young engineer.

awake thoughts of torture, of the rack.

Wednesday, January
The sounds of the very early morning, the small beep of the alarm clock sounding in the day. Still, it is silenced swiftly.
Take off the night clothes and go into the bathroom, turn on the shower and wait for the water to warm.The orchid in the corner is still doing well.
Wash the hair, brush the teeth. There is no need to shave today,lack to the bedroom, fondle the preening and otherwise attention seeking cat, get fresh socks and underwear and dress for the day.The nose has started acting again, the cold weather has reddened it. Use some of that cream left over from the last time that happ­ened., and take the little white pill with the small print on it.
The cat is at the door. She wants to leave the flat, to explore the early morning light, the predawn glow of the ruddy light from the sky that is the reflection of the street lighting.
At the door, remember that the mobile phone is still at its charging station, beside the decorative old typewriter in the sitting room. Return, detaeh it from its  cord, and back down the stairs, out into the alley. Today is the waste paper collection day, blue waste bins in front of every house. The perfume shop at the corner is refurbishing, has building site fences all around it, and apologetic note notices begging to excuse this temporary discomfort.
On down to the Laendtor bus stop, there are four there people today, including Dolores.
The economy is improving, there are more jobs, and therefore more people are using the public transportation system. The new passengers are all workers, craftsmen of some kind. Their clothing bears witness to this, it is worn and practical, made to accept the dust and strain and stains of a days work.
The bus driver's ticket machine is broken today, he will aecept no money. He will drive for free.
At the station there are yet more early marning workers,some unsteady upon their feet, still asleep. Anastasia isthere, her name tag displays a different surname. Take coffee from the machine and pay her for it, there is so much work today. Big Blondy and the shaven man are there as well, and all appear to be treading upon each other's feet.
Both moustachio! and Hedgehog are at their usual place, tattling most earnestly. The year has begun now, after the short hiccough that was Christmas.now so thoroughly past.
The silent television is showing advertising films for body-building fitness machinery. Movies of all those people flexing their backs awake thoughts of torture, of the rack.
This is no sport for people with slipped discs.

Stroke the cats head and the cat is a happy cat now.

a true tuesday, a head like a brick for no good reason, and no bad one either. Listen to the sound of the early morning alarm clocks, find the clothing and prepare for the day. It is dark, it is cold, the light switches are all too far away. Go visit the orchid for an early morning tinkle. Clean the teeth after the mornings coffee drink, make life easier for the dentist. An early morning dentist's appointment, a boring party, the usual drill.

The son has gathered all his books and filled his bag, the wife has made his sandwich for the school break.
Head is hissing sore, there is no reason. Force a smile to drive the misery away.
This does not work, and the son has gone to school.

sit in the dark, drink the breakfast.
Brush the teeth, as planned.
Stroke the cats head and the cat is a happy cat now.

The weekend has ended

Get up, take it easy. There is an errand to be done before work, a short visit to the hospital, just to get a paper docket signed by a doctor.
This is required by the insurance company.
Take a shower, pet the cat. The cat is very friendly this morning, head butting and back rubbing as cats do. Lie down for some minutes more, it is only half past six. Earlier than neccessary.
The wife lets out a shout. Dismay.
She has left the car in a car park permitted for public use during the weekends only. And it is Monday. The weekend has ended.
So get out the day's clothing fast and furious, get dressed, a practical hooded tee shirt under the jacket and walk across the small town centre in the pouring rain. There are workers in the early morning bakery, chatting in the yellow light. Go up a narrow lane and pass the ruins of last years christmas market, all the stands not dismantled yet.
Hurry past the sons school, see the early students from the vocational school in the fast food snack shop on the corner.
And from there on into the car park, there is the car. It is the only car bar one on the parking space.
Get in, drive it home through the incipient rush hour traffic and the wiper driven rain, and park in the first free space.

And when at home again, make a pot and drink a cup.
Change the hoodie for a jacket, make jokes with the son, his hair is all over the place again. He refuses to let it be cut, and since long hair is neither illegal nor ugly, he will wear it that way untill he is fed up with it

Back to the car, let the day begin.

過量，過剩…

awaken.

low, hear the sound of the early risen son, at his computer, coming in talking singing.

feel low, there is no concentration any more. Try to clear up the table, then stop. Try, and nothing seems to work right.

Avoid stress, hear the hissing sound in the right hand ear climb up to a noise like a small jet engine. Move things out of the way on the kitchen sideboard, start the grinder to make up the components for the  daily hot drink. Clear things up, load the dishwashing machine a bit more, start it.

Half done things lying about, half read books, things lying about that may turn out useful some day.

Useless brochures, old newspapers.

It would be hours work to tidy up this mess.

It should also be possible to return things to their place after work and not to leave the stuff around the place.

This is a mornings depression,  a Sunday that is going to be wasted.

Waste and surfeit.
Surfeit, might as well be said in chinese, nobody understands the word in any local language anyway.

No, ¡Madness!!, it is half past ten

Saturday morning, still, there is the sound of the son up early, the only sign of the sun being the pale grey sky. The old back, with it's discs out of place, is sore. Nothing not to be overcome with some pain and difficulty. A sad companion when your age increases. Along with all those other diseases and changes in the body, and the firm command saying: "You do not need to get up. Why bother?"
"Pourquoi? C'est seulement une jour sans travail!  Fait rien! Restez ici"
Why on earth is that character trying to talk French? Perhaps he thinks that he is talking to the lord mayor in some a story by a great Irish writer.

No, ¡Madness!!, it is half past ten. Rubbish- get up.

The cat looks and     Purrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
ein tiefes Brummen, ein wedelnder Schwanz.
Now thoughts are in German, and off to the bathroom, and sit down and, süße Erleichterung.
Brush the teeth and look at the orchid, alive yet, and showing no signs of death. Orchids probably like damp and fetid air, they are, after all, parasites

Brush the teeth, comb the hair,
then to the bedroom, get some day clothes on, go to the kitchen, start cleaning the mess left by the sons breakfast and grind coffee, fill the pot, burn the gas, clean up more, sweep the floor.

Set up the computer, drink the breakfast drink.

write these notes
get on with the day.

Train delay in Freising

The year is warming up to operating temperature

8. 1.16
Silence the beeping noise, become a stranger in the night. A mechanical sound forces the beginning of the day to commerce, the sound of a cat, of the cat Miriam, activated purring voice from the feline throat, rubbing her head against the legs now at the side of the bed, the feet on the floor. Visit the orchid, that jungle parasite is growing still. The bathroom must be just warm enough for it. Brush the teeth, brush the hair. gather the mobile electronics, telephone and pen. Return to feed the cat, find fresh clothing in the wardrobe, check everything, now the wife has wakened, the cat- has two possible sources for entertainment. Leave the flat, let the cat out into the stairwell. The market is being set up in the pedestrian zone by the church. It is cold, people are talking loudly. It is a damp cold, fog condensing from water rising from the river, those water vapours from the slightly warmer river. Dolores is at the bus stop, sitting in the shelter. she hops surprised, but that does no harm. After all of this time she still has her tigers skin bag. She has a new winter coat on, a stylish thing., with an animal skin around its' collar as a stola, or something like that. As she is boarding the bus, see that the fur animal is not a real fur, but some textile mutation in imitation of the real thing. There is a bicycle lying on the ground outside the station, it has fallen over. It still has its red tail light on, glowing on the ground. somebody must have knocked it over, and did not bother to pick it up.
Yormu's big blondy is there, chatting away to her colleague, the one with the many black plaits in her hair, all tied back into a bun today.
The large black coffee is served, and in the cafe say good morning to hedgehog, for the first time this year. The girl is making sandwiches again, slowly, carefully. With her hair tied back her profile looks like that of Nofretete, the wife of Echnaton. She is a tall young woman with a handsome African face, careful make up. Her eyes are permanently downcast. Watch her squeeze mustard from a yellow plastic bottle into a thread roll. She then takes a knife to spread it carefully. She looks at the result and puts in a few tom­atoes, and looks around, and starts putting bits of cheese in too. She is not fast, but she is interesting to watch. Look down at this notebook, and make these notes. There are people on television demonstrating body build­ing gear. bonny men and young women, with muscular,young, taut bodies with nothing better to do than to sell body building machinery.
Leave for the train, there are more people there now. The year is warming up to operating temperature.

Dentist's anaesthetic

7.1.16
cannot sleep, get up at four and examine the conditions for the medical insurance.
They are on line, they require a login. After seeing that this patient does not exist, apply for a new password. And that was it then, look for another while, it is cold, go back to bed.
Sleep untill the son's alarm sounds, and wait a while longer. Sleep was sound and relaxing after that midnight excursion. Dentist appointment today. Tidy up the kitchen whilst making a cup of coffee. No, not just a cup. A full pot.Make up a cup with sugar and milk, place this on a matching saucer, and bring it in to the wife. It is her Birthday. The cat has disappeared, who knows where it has gone to this morning. It will probably be back very soon. It likes it's food. Leave the house, decide to walk to the dentist, go past martin's church, pass all those fancy shops, the wine dealer and the post office. go up the hill, there are more fancy shops there. Clothing stores, and very upmarket antique shops.And pass that old disused prison.It is a long way to the dentist, half an hour's walk.That is a long way in the cold and damp weather, heaps of dirty melting snow everywhere.


And then-at the dentist, no waiting. Straight onto the chair, get a little bib hung around the neck and listen to the sound of drills, the whines and gurgles of a working dental practice. An infection, and the tinnitus, the faithful yet unloved companion of the past years, is gone.
Writing this account on the train, on the way to work, the tinnitus is back again, with the slow dissipation of the dentist's anaesthetic.

Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar

6.1.16 Festival of the three kings this is another holiday, a holy day. There are probably more holidays in Germany than in any other country..The feast of the Epiphany,  Bells ring outside.All of no account. silence the faithful clock, unmount the revolting mask from the face. And return to the land of Nod. Why not?
A cat cry in the distance, from behind closed doors. Getup, search for the animal. It is in the sons room, it wants to go out, it wants food, it wants and wants.
take the coffee, and see that all the dishes from yesterday's meal have been left stacked in the sink. How is the coffee pot to be cleaned now? Well, it's simple, just remove the plates from the sink and stack them upon the dishwasher. The problem is that the dishwasher has not been cleared of it's freight yet. Make up the coffee pot,grind the coffee and screw the whole thing back together.
On turning off the gas realise that the gas jet is not working, it is blocked. so-take the pot from theflame, dismantle the flame producing mechanism, clean all of the parts, dry them, and return the whole lotto their respective places.
Press the button on the kitchen cooker, a spark, and the gas bursts into a blue flame under the coffee machine.
The son calls, requesting , NO, demanding assistance with his English vocabulary. English is important, it takes third place behind German and Latin. It is the school that he goes to. Fourth will be French.
In the middle of this exercise there is a sound from his computer. One of his friends is on line, is calling him to play. So the schoolbooks are put to one side, and he disappears into his room. Good morning, and a disembodied voice says "Good Morning. A child's voice.
So drink coffee and watch the cat play with the  glass marbles. Football for small predators, kick the marble into motion with one paw, and give chase, follow into the tight place behind the upright piano and the bells sound for Epiphany, the feast of the three kings from the Orient.
Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar.

He gets paid for his job. That is all that makes sense.

Tuesday Noises in the morning, as every day. The dates i helping and ticking, clicking and tocking. The cat, up and purring, ready to greet the day. The wife gets up, and the cat is fed. Teeth brushed, shoes found, clothing donned. It is all the same, but don' t you see-routine is important. All these things impart structure to the DAY.
 On leaving the house see that the neighbours on all sides have put out their rubbish bins for collection. A moment s indecision, and then decide to leave it, the wife still has things to bring down, and the tin collection is usually late, unlike the yellow bag collection every fortnight. There is a small vehicle spreading salt on the streets to melt the remaining snow and ice. The weather is due to get warmer again anyway, all this activity seems unnecessary. A man in a garden tractor with a huge hopper frantically rushing around trying to cover all of the streets in salt, orange light flashing.
 He gets paid for his job. That is all that makes sense.
Down the familiar streets, all covered in salty slush, glistening pavements, cold damp air. Shopkeepers on their way to work, looking into shop windows on the way. These people likely start work early, they have an early shift starting at six.There are two men at the bus stop, a teacher and some other. The teacher will only take the bus for about a kilometre,the other will go to the station. Leave the desolate streets and go to the cafe, there is big Blondy, her usual chatty self, trying to be a pert little girl.She can try all she likes, she has left that behind her. Time moves on. A large coffee, and stand at one of those"'bistro tables writing these notes. There are men in orange safety clothing opposite, street cleaners. They are talking shop  to each.other. The young woman behind the counter is making up salmon sandwiches. It is the same girl as yesterday and she as slow and as thoughtful as she was yesterday. Listen to her talk to big Blandy, telling her to stay cool. She has an accent that sounds as if it might come from Ghana. She still has all her tiny plaits, and her left ear is pierced all the way around.she is wearing many small golden rings there.Downcast eyes alt the Time, making salmon sandwiches.Listening to her accent and appearance, a young German of Ghana's descent.

and the train, the one that will not wait, still resting at the end of the platform.Board the train, find a seat, arsk the one opposite whether the seat is free on not, and sit down.A cup of morning coffee, and a notebook. All the way to Freising.

Train time

4 January 2016
What is that noise, that beep not yet impatient, an electronic reminder of duty, time to get up and go to work. Fiddle with the light switches, take off the mask. go to the wardrobe, select clothing.It is only ten past five, and the cat Miriam is up and lively. She wants her cat's breakfast, that cat young and tidy does. Put together the clothing, feed Miriam, wash over the shoes quickly. There is no need for a shower, that was taken last night. Check for the mobile telephone, the wallet and the train tickets. dither? The cat is already waiting at the door. It tries opening it with its paws. The animal gets more adept at solving problems with its human surroundings with every passing day. Church lane has a covering of show, and it its snowing steadily. Make the first footprints on the sidewalk, the snow squeaking underfoot. It is that cold, at this hour of the morning.There are cyclists underway. Rapidly treading mountain biker with helmet, a woman on an older bicycle without. There is no evidence of snow clearing activities,even though the snow was not unexpected.
-the station forecourt is deserted, those new automatic sliding doors open in a big welcome to all these early guests. A bald young man, no, not bald, shavenheaded serving at Yormas. He is fast, yet there  are go many people that he calls for assistance, a call unanswered. He deals with all of the customers himself.
There is a new girl working at in the cafe, a very tall, girl with her head covered in tight plaits. She is working slowly, very carefully. Her eyelids are sunken, painted, her back erect, as she butters every pretzel, checking each product,  very careful. She is using the buttering machine, a machine that goes Ker-Mhmp" every time it delivers a sheet of butter.Normally it goes  Ker-Mhmp." with a steady rhythm.With the new girl it just accusingly goes" her-Mhmp irregularly. She is very relaxed, and probably butters better than the others.
Time will show.
So what.
Train time

Work tomorrow, today is a day of rest.

3 January 2016
A night of wakefulness and strange dreams, wild snippets of reality. They are of no importance now that the day is here, anon light in the window. All is white out, there is snow falling on to all of the snow-covered roofs.
Last nights entertainment is to be felt today, still felt in the head and the sore throat. The cat is active, seeking attention. It twists it's head sideways and rubs it against a leg still in sleeping clothes. Night attire.
The son comes in, he is claiming that his computer is getting too hot. 'A tiny computer in a plastic box, it is barely warm. He will not be dissuaded from the idea that the chip is too hot, whereas really all that it is doing is running up an operating temperature, that is most likely normal.
Get the day clothes on, the cat is going frantic for want of food. so go to the fridge, take the catfood out and feed it. And as the coffee goes onto the pot she is happily feeding. Sunday church bells sound outside, otherwise it is "Sunday in the snow" silent. Just the church bells calling the faithful, reminding that they should be on their way to church services. This family will not go, there is not the necessary belief here.
It is silent , sound only from the clatter of key boards from the sons room, and coughs from the other room.
The son makes up a cup of coffee, and brings it in to the wife, who is just awakening. Wakening noises in the morning. Work tomorrow, today is a day of rest. 

A day that is not a day that sticks to it's subject.

Deep sleep, a mind drain, long sleep induces laziness. This is the way.
The son, all mows, is working on his games already, the humming computer, the one with it's noisy cooling system is on too. He comes into the bedroom and offers to get coffee.
oh yes !.
He is then happy that there is enough coffee over from yesterday to save him making it afresh. He is happy to offer that.
oh NO !
 A bad start, but better than no start. Start to search for clothing. No, take a shower. And that washes away the sleep, rinses the dust out of the grey hair, clears the perspiration from the skin and takes the sleep out of the eyes. A good invention, one of the joys of modern luxury. H. A privelege.
 Privilege. Is that a private reading?
 Another thing to be looked up, and understood.

In some countries the carriage of weaponry in everyday life is seen as a privilege for everybody, whereas it is a disgrace, a monument to the failure of civilian societies.

A digression from the subject, the subject is:
how to start the day and let it run in such a way:
that the achievements therein are a cause for justifiable satisfaction.
never get started this way

This will be a day for such digressions. A day that is not a day that sticks to it's subject.

, this is no more than a ramble on the page.

At five, the alarm clock sounds. It can only sound because it is a Friday, the first Friday of the year. The first of fifty-two, more or less. and there is no work today, not on New years Day. And the alarm is off on the weekends. it must therefore be Friday. Awaken again at ten in the morning. New years Day, the last year is past gone and done with.
Stroke the cat, the poor animal still shocked by all the noise that it had had to endure in the previous night. Bangers, and other fireworks. Maybe the distant detonations were to much for her, the shock waves making their way into her ears in ways that humans will not easily understand.
Be all that as it may, This did not stop her eating the remains of a pate sausage left out in the kitchen by the son on the wife, rendering the remains of it unsuitable for human consumption.

The day will not begin, it is overcast, the son is already any at his computers, solving server problems. This has become an all-absorbing problems, it is difficult to convince him of  problems involving other things. He is very focused, very con­centrated on these problems., less so to those important to his parents. That is the way with children.
There is a wish to leave the house, to wander around on this warm day, not much colder than Christmas, and far to warm for the time of year. A walk in the park would be good, this is no more than a ramble on the page.