And there are so many things to do, the weekend will never be long enough.

Head is solid, it feels solid. Solid like a brick. Or a rock. Sunlight pouring onto the upper altane balcony, the old wood reflecting back the morning sunlight as a reddish glow, especially when compared to the blue grey of the shadows. Stand up, go to the bathroom. When done, take the tooth brush, the electrical one, and go over the teeth carefully.

On returning to the bedroom, sit down on the bed beside the strangely silent cat, give its head a few pats. A patted cat, so as to speak. Then a patted purring cat, as it sits errect, stretches it's back and jumps up onto the window sill.

Look out into the yard with the cat, there are the hops growing up the wires that were made ready for them, the wires with the dead stalks of last years hops still twisted around them. They may grow higher this year, it is the third year since they where planted, their roots must be well established by now.
Put on clothes for the day, everything but socks and shoes.


Think of a morning coffee, go to the kitchen and start the grinder, that same grinder bought thirty years ago in the black Hertie tower in Munich, the tower now demolished, the machine as good as ever.

Fetch the computer, and place it on the sitting room table, the little grey flat thing, with the apple on its reverse side.

The coffee is made, the machine needs a new seal,it can no longer get up sufficien pressure, and ... well it leaks coffee all over the cooker
Coffee is made, the son is talking to his friends on the computer, chatting about games and things that they have done, and that they are about to do. Singing and enjoying themselves, the friend a non-corporal voice from the machine.

The day is lovely, the throat is sore, the back aches and the coffee is bitter.

And there are so many things to do, the weekend will never be long enough.

Three ducks on a wall and the hotel.

28 April in Landshut, Ländtorplatz at five forty a.m.

but does not appreciate that her customers are in a hurry, have trains to catch, and cannot dawdle

The street is deserted, no people, just the expanding road works. The town is cold and sleeping,
At the bus stop the three people, as usual. The same three people. Cars stream past, Trucks and cars. Under way in the early morning. This is a trunk road, it runs right through the middle of the town. There is a constant stream of traffic both directions.

29 abril
 suddenly sounding, the alarm destroys a deep sleep. Wait untill the bathroom is free, then take a shower. The warm water wakens, the throat is sore, the tinnitus whispers in the distance..Brush the teeth and return to the bedroom.
Put on the day clothes, pet the purring Miriam cat.
Check all at the things in the bag, put on the glasses, put the wallet in the right hand pocket. Take the pill that the doctor had ordered, change the house for the street, the streets deserted untill  then at the main street the bustle of the Friday market being set up.

At the bus stop, there is Dolores, huddled in the seat over there in the bus stop shelter.

The weather is cold. It is foggy today, the hotel on the other side of the river is showing its lights dimly through a cloak of water vapour There is a lone duck sitting on the wall, and there are more of them running about between the trees on some kind of duck business.

 Hear loud voices in the bus shelter, the raucous sound of a drunken man * The boy cotton man  is there too, upon this drunk`s request he parts with a cigarette. Apeasement.

The weatherbeaten inebriate man attempts to start a conversation about the gods. Then he Talks about the moon. It is a half moon now.




Today there is a tall African woman working in Yorma's cafe. She is friendly, she has her hair in a multitude of tiny black plaits. she is chatting to her colleagues. Service is done by the shaven-headed man, the woman is much to busy talking and doing other things. she is pretty and friendly, but does not appreciate that her customers are in a hurry, have trains to catch, and cannot dawdle..

The coffee is finished on the platform, the cup disposed of in the train. That is all, just that the train was held up in Moosburg. The last day of the week does not begin well, and it has become hard to ray attention to the kind of detail that these notes require. By' he time before we reach Freising, the fog has thickened, and has left a coating of hoary frost on the fields. A white deposit of ice cristals, desaturating the pale spring green of the vegetation.

But before Freising is reached the train stops and waits in a tiny place called Lavgemtaeh, no Langenbach, and waits in the clearing fog for the railway lines ahead to be cleared of a broken down cargo train.

 Friday will start with a major delay.

Unfriendly and efficient, she does her job.

Thu,April 28,2016

grope for the music making telephone in the dark to turn it off-  Swipe, wipe, off. That is how it goes in the modern times.
These modern Times.

The wife gets up, the bathroom is now blocked. Make sure that all of the things needed for the day are ready, then the bathroom is free, take a shower, brush the teeth.

      
Find fresh underwear, dress for the day.

        Miriam, the cat Miriam, is up and about, inquisitive. She wants to leave for the corridor, then again she does not.

        It is bright out of doors, the building site in the middle of church lane has five beacons securing the fence around it. Only one of these hazard lamps is working. They are round red beacons mounted upon the top of a red and white plastic fence.

      Bog cotton man is already at the bus stop, so is Dolores in her dark jacket, or coat, all decorated by leopard-shin patterned headscarf and handbags.
Do mulimas match their headscarf to their handbag? Perhaps so.

        There are four drakes noisily following a lone duck, waking noises of spring, duck waddling on the pavement on their flipped feet. They then jump, or fly up onto the wall by the river. Three remain there, the smooth flowing fiver in the background and the wakening hotel over on the other river bank..

        The bus driver, surly, indicates to the machine so that the passengers WILL take their tickets themselves. The man does not have the manners or the friendliness to give you his ticket himself.

    Smoker's solitary, shirt sleeved, impervious to the cold, out on the railway station Plaza in his yellow square, the only place in which he may smoke.

        good morning, man with a pig tail on the back your head.

        Coffee at Yormas, a southeast Asian woman at the  counter. Unfriendly and efficient, she does her job. 

A slow procession.

April
Completely exhausted, disconnect the 'phone, turn off its noise slowly now, slowly today.
Slow.
There is no hurry.Wildo,
 Here is the same business as every day, go to the bathroom, turn on the shower, let it run hot. Just wash and comb the hair, brush the teeth. go back to the bedroom, the cat is now on the bed.

Put on some underwear, fresh, a new shirt.

The cat follows down the stairs, half way, and sits there. It seems to look down the corridor with longing, a longing to be out of the constraints of the house.

The street is deserted,  no people, just the expanding construction work. The town is cold and sleeping, at the bus stop three people, as usual. The same three people. Cars stream past, Trucks and cars. Under way in the early morning. This is a trunk road, it runs right through the middle of the town.

There is a constant stream of traffic both directions.
The railway station is busy, the cafe is busy.

The young girl on service, the one with the bulging eyes, is getting faster all at the time, but has started to forget to actually serve the customers after having taken their money.
The train on its platform, rolling slowly down the tracks to couple with the carriages already in the station. Make up a double train to continue the journey in Munich.

The same groups of people, impatient to board the Train, trying to gauge the exact point where it will finaly stop on its slow progress. Those that guess the wrong position try to adjust this, the train has an accompaniment of people following down the platform.

A slow procession.

There is nothing to be seen of the person herself

April 26 2016

        Choking dreams again, dreams involving cats and briars. Strange.

        And then the melody from the telephone.

        Just undress, take a shower. The hair is so short now, so short that it is almost dry after a short towelling. Rosa did a good and most thorough job. It will take a few months, then the hair will grow back. Perhaps at some stage it will not, but now it still does.

        Find fresh underwear in the dresser, and the mobile 'phone.' forget to take the pill again, this is getting to be a bad habit. Psychotic behaviour could be the result.

        The cat is quiet today it prefers to stay in the warm flat.. The morning is wet, miserable. 

Out on the street.

A young woman approaches, dressed in a dark jacket and shiny tight black trousers, almost stockings. Both move to their left, there is just enough space beside the fence that is securing the building site.

        There is a wind gusting, a drizzle of rain and a strong wind around the church, it is bad weather this morning.

A stock of waste cartons belonging to the discount bakery have all been blown over, and are now lieing wet and bedraggled all over the cobbles. Tuesday is the day for the rubbish collection.

        At least it is dry in the bus shelter, Dolores is huddled in her scarves, the bog cotton man arrives, huddled in his anorak.

        And as the driver is being paid, a fifty cent coin falls to the floor of the bus.

        Smoking happily, and entirely unconcerned by the weather, the short sleeved, pig tailed smoker gives a cheerful greeting from the smokers space in the centre at the station forecourt.

The slow girl with the Basedow eyes is on service in the cafe, she is getting faster as time goes on.

Weightlifters and bodybuilders are explaining the advantages of some compact body building device on the television in the waiting room. It is good that the sound is off, it is possible to ignore the drivel just by looking away.

Start these notes standing at one of those high tables known as' bistro' tables here. Make notes untill six in the morning, hear the small train from Rosenheim come into the station, and leave for the platform, platform No 6, struggling amid an oncoming stream of people who have just left that train.

Climb the granite stairs, following a pair of legs in black tights topped by a black anorak, the fur-rimmed hood of the anorak up, feet clad in short shafted high heeled boots.

There is nothing to be seen of the person herself. 

It is colder today.

bad sensation, this is not a good morning. It is cold, compared to the last days.

Shower, first too hot and then to cold. Hard to adjust.

Find the clothing, forget to take the pill that the doctor had ordered

Let Miriam the cat in.

It is a strange day, and upon leaving the flat hear the rain pattering, splattering, on the roof.
Go back, return, change the shoes for the more solid waterproof ones, and leave for the street.
The road workers have dug their holes so wide now that there is hardly space for pedestrians.

Stand aside to let a woman pass who is heading the other way.
The workers have left strange marks and heiroglyphs on the ground, they used spray cans to do this with.

The markings are in white, and they really shine out from their background of dark rain-wetted stone.

The bus stop, datores, the bus driver.
It is all distant today, the friendly greeting from the smoker at the station

These things are the same as every day, but somehow more distant.
They have the appearance at having been filtered.
Sounds are different too.
The cafe is more efficient today, people seem to be learning.

There is a tall man in the corner, with long smooth platinum blond hair, taking care of his dachshund.

The man is wearing a headland over his forehead, like a north american indian.

As the Train leaves the station, see that the countryside is covered in frost, a local white powdering all over the landscape, like powdered sugar on confectionery.

It is colder today.

a second cup for those of lesser faith

awaken with the light from the window, the light of day. A long long rest after last nights early repair to bed, now the fuzziness from the land of Nod is in the head, Hypnos still holding on to what he can,  drowsy. The bed is warm and pleasant, but sleep has ended.

Get up, bathroom.
The white orchid is wrinkled slightly, the petals are not smooth. What is that a sign of?

Return and put on a trousers and a pullover, the morning is cool, the sky is grey. The kitchen next, the coffee grinder, the machine. The blue rosette of the gas flame heats the italian coffee machine, and meanwhile get the silver machine with it's white apple. Sit and look at the nights news.
And then the machine rumbles, the coffee is made.
return with a cup, sit down and type

this

into the machine.
The son is up, watching inane cartoons about penguins.
But he is watching them in English now, the excuse being that this will help him underatand the language better. He is to have a major test in English tomorrow.

Drink the coffee, listen to the chuch bells sounding outside.

Sunday,


and now the eight fifty five bell, calling the faithful to Mass.

and a second cup for those of lesser faith.

some days work to even begin to understand

A high-pitched ping noise, starting below the pitch of the constantly present tinnitus in the right ear, the pitch going higher, passing the tinnitus, leaving it behind, then going high into inaudible levels, fading away.

What was this! Fright in the morning. It was not in the head, it had nothing to do with the tinnitus, no aneurismatic event, no. Imagination?

Lie in bed and feel the day growing, no way is the day to be raced today, no fast shower, no rushing for clothing in the dark, no overexcited young cat. Peace of sorts.
Later today a haircut. The young girl Rosa hardly dared suggest that she cut the grey hair, shyly suggesting "Posso?"-Of course you can! Why not? She has just finished her training. So she has now made up a professional date of her own on her own. A visible thrill - Now let us see how she does. Later. Nine thirty


Ping.
It is the mobile telephone. A short message system message. From the phone company, informing of details of service, payment for same. Unimportant, but a strange noise. This must have been set by accident, by your's truly, without realization of the confusion that this would cause.


All are asleep, it is early. No, the cat is awake, outside the window. Let her in, she purrs her greeting.
Get up, clean the coffee machine, make an early morning coffee.
Sit at the table with the grey machine, look at the news. Death and destruction everywhere, nothing positive, who wants to here good news?
The son wakes up, he is at his machine again, soon he is talking to his friends, talking over the machine. The machines are central to childrens lives now, here, unthinkable in the past, normality today.

The coffee is good, black and bitter.

There is a new poem by Polly to be seen on the machine. Now it will be some days work to even begin to understand it. English, German, Google, and a babble of beginners Portuguese.
That is good news, not all news is bad, the darkness on the horizon may just be the fleeing night.

and climb up another granite stairs to platform number six

The alarming sound of the cat in heat, out in the yard, looking for a tomcat, cat howls.

Then the sound at the mobile telephone, calling all the workers to work,

Get up, it is cold. Bathroom, wash the face and the hands, that will do for today.

let the cat in, she rises onto her hind legs and rubs her head the knees, the human knees. She wants her head scratched, and her back rubbed.

Leave the house for the street, the street not now mostly blocked by plastic barriers. These are to keep passers- by out of the trenches dug for the pipes.

This will go on until summer, then the work will be finished, the cobbles back in place...

It is a cold morning, look forward to the warmth in the bus. The mobile telephone was left on the bedside table by mistake. As a result there will be no Portuguese lessons today. No Babbel-ing language learning during lunch break. Eu nao posso.

Dolores is in the shelter, huddled in the corner, frozen.. glances, a nod for a good morning.

The full moon is in the same place today as it was yesterday, but the sky is brighter today.

Cafe Yorma is in complete confusion today, receive one overfilled coffee from a most confused service person.

There is not much to tell today, a strange man with an orange jacket is sitting in the corner of the cafe, a strange man with a highly concentrated, almost aggressive. stare in his face, The face is all wrinkled, and weathered. Not a young man at all. A railway worker, maybe. His eyes have a fierce expression, they are blue. His companion is dressed in an orange safety suit, he has longish blond hair and is consulting his mobile telephone. 

Hedgehog is alone in his corner, not talking to anybody.

Take the coffee, and leave the station cafe for the cold platform, with it's ticket machine, go down the concrete stairs and walk along the concrete passage, and climb up another granite stairs to platform number six.

The train is coming in, watch all of the followers ardently pursuing the machine as the doors pass slowly, at walking pace. Always the 'same

The sky over the cold landscape is clear, a few contrails from the early morning jet aircraft.

It will he spring soon. 

glistening pale and frosty in those places not yet reached by the rising sun.

21 April 2016
  switch off the mobile phone, stop its noise, noise that is just there to waken. The orchid in the bathroom seems to be getting better now, perhaps because it is warmer. Find a new pair of trousers, the zip on the last pair had broken, this was embarassing..
 Having washed in the morning, and the cat let out into the yard, the contents of the bag checked, leave for the street in. what feels like  first light. A dark blue sky. The second hand shop opposite is showing a tailors dummy in a pink dress in it's window. The workmen changed their enormous  digging machine for a smaller one, more suited to the narrow streets.- The blue pipes with their black insulation have already been laid out in these trenches.

 It is a cold morning, a cold dawn., a clear sky. Good morning at the bus stop, Dolores a picture of misery. An almost full moon has risen in the west, over all the houses, these houses all probably still holding sleeping people. The teacher is taking his morning picture of the town gate  using his mobile 'phone.

 The smoker at the station, studies at his usual place. Coffee, the service slow and clumsy today. time for a danger here. There are other coffee shops in the station.

 The just-risen sun is illuminating the railway platforms, the station now full of goods trains. Thousands of cubic metres of ethanol in an endless chain  of tank wagons carrying their cylindrical containers. Another train loaded with articulated tracks, travelling by rail, maybe on their way  over the alps.

 As the train to Freising, our train to Frasiwg, comes into the platform it has the usual mass of people following its walking-pace progress along the platform. A passion for being the first in the queue!

 Before Mooshurg, the visible landscape, visible now after the winter. The damage caused on the river banks by the protected beavers, all their felled trees lying in the river, rotting. They are like a remainder of an ancient monument, like ancient ruins with their pillars lying fallen on the ground.

 It will be a clear day, maybe a hot day. There is still dew on the fields, glistening pale and frosty in those places not yet reached by the rising sun.

and forget to take the pill that the doctor had ordered

20 April 2016

asleep so deep, then the dock, no the mobile phone. Ama

awakening. Rest a few seconds more, then go to the bath

room after having left the night clothes on the bed The Orhr

tg still doing well in the window there. Let the water ran to

and then take the shower, as every day.

Return to the bedroom, take the fresh clothes out of the wardrobe

get dressed, amtthe hair. Let the cat in, she is unhappily

outside in the corridor again.

Take the wallet the watch and the glasses, the bag and 

this notebook, .....................................................
and forget to take the pill that the doctor had

ordered
2
0 April 2016

asleep so deep, then the dock, motte mobile phone. Ama

awakening. Rest a few seconds more, then go to the bath

room after having left the night clothes on the bed The Orhr

tg still doing well in the window there. Let the water ran her

and then take the shower, as every day.

Return to the bedroom, take the fresh clothes out of the wardrobe

get dressed, amtthe hair. Let the cat in, she is unhappily

outside in the corridor again.

Take the wallet the watch and the glasses, the bag intt

this notebook, and forget to take the pill that the doctor ben

ordered 

Leave the house in a hurry, and pass along through all 

the silent streets past all of those shops.
Dolores is in the bus shelter, rather the shelter at the bus stop,

and she appears to have a cold today. She is sniffing

and snivelling to herself.

Look over the river at the

hotel, it is showing signs of life today, The dining

room has people walking around in it, and There are

lights on in some of the bedroom windows. There

is a curious coloured light on in the dining room,

who knows what this is.

The bus is being driven by the bald driver today,

the one with the moustache. He looks a bit like a

walrus.

Dolores leaves the bus at her usual stop, the

old lady looks to be in a bad way, she is not

healthy today, not at all today. At the railway station

the man with the pigtail is standing at his usual place

and appears to be deeply engrossed in something.

Leave him to his refection.

as every day, differing in detail, but overall similarity

Tuesday in April.

the mobile phone lights up, starts its music.

Time to get up, undress, go to the bathroom,

shower, wash the teeth, no brush them!, and

shave off the stubble of the last few days.

Take a pill for the mind, see that the glasses

are clean, and let the strangely silent cat out.

• And comb the still damp hair, put on the

Jacket leave the house, down the alley,

pass the building site, progressing slowly

now, it will be months before they are finished.

walk diagonally across the big street in the

pedestrian zone, pass the perfume shop,

pass the discount bakery. Through the gate,

there is the bus shelter ahead, Ddolores,

Dolores, on her way to work, she is there

almost every day. Later, about five minutes

later, the teacher arrives, maybe he is a

teacher, maybe he just looks like one.

He starts to make pictures of the Town gate

using his mobile telephone.

The bus arrives, pay the driver, and

sit down on the seat. Later, watch

Dolores leave the bus, the bus lurching

about as it comes to a halt at the

Hofangerweg stop. She, and another middle

aged women leave the bus, heading for

work, or home, at whatever.

The drivers way of driving is most

unsteady, the bus jerks, gorks, and wobbles in a most uncomfortable way.

At the station there are a few smokers

and drinkers standing about on the square.

First cigarettes, first bottles, first light.

Coffee at Yormas cafes, the girl who says

Alice is on duty today, she does not waste time in the dismal cafe,
with the same guests as always sitting around, letting the time pass untill their train comes in, untill their

work begins.
Similar procedures as every day, differing in detail, but overall similarity.

On the streets in a car, all these people would vanish to blurred figures behind windscreens,

all become one with their machines. They would cease to be really human,

You will never meet anybody when sitting in a car.
People become reduced to machines there

On the bus at last, to work, the sun risen over Munich Airport. the airport is behind the trees.

There is no wish to see or to hear anything,

mon18 April.

dodadada  dodadada doda daa daa music to awaken by, a simple harmless silly tune.
Awake, and shower, brush teeth and carry on
let the cat in

Purr

It is early on monday it is dark outside. The

watch has dissapeared. Turn the light, there it 

 is, middling on the floor, just waiting, where it had

been left the night before.

This is a typical monday, nothing seems To

work just as it could and should.

The cat wants to go out into the corridor again

As soon as the door is opened it rushes out

The notion that something outside may have

changed inside the last twenty minutes drove

the small animal out at high speed.

Once outside it notices that nothing has changed, and it halts half way down the

stairwell. No knowing what goes on in the cat's mind.

The town is silent but for oyeksts cyclists and security

people. The cyclist are about in greater numbers,

by the time the bog cotton man wishes good

morning, there have been four. The last

pedalling at high speed along the promenade by

the river.

The bus arrives, and the first fare of the day

Is paid.

The bald man at the cafe serves coffee or

food quietly, the younger girl is simply slow.

There is nothing to observe today, or perhaps

it is simply tiredness that leads to blindness and

deafness today.

There is no wish to see or to hear anything,

there is nothing in work to look forward to.

too early today, this is a typical monday, nothing seems To

work just as it could and should.

But then at five past nine she does move.

awake after all of those  nocturnal disturbances, disturbances like the light in the kitchen being left on, sometime in the night, the cat in the corridor in full song, the alarm clock in the sons room going off with a silly groaning noise. Seven forty four in red light emitting diode letters.

And then there is no help for it . The strangely quiet and silent cat at the foot of the bed, no knowing quite what has happened, but the animal does not react normally at all any more. Maybe it has caught cold, maybe something else.
Get up, make breakfast, for one. The son is playing with his friends on the computer, Felix and Christo, they are all together in the room, and on the computer at the some time, and all in their own rooms at home. All online, no physical contact, other than the visual thing and the keyboard, and .of course the sound of their voices.

Like ghosts in the bedroom.

A cup of coffee on a sunday morning, in the sitting room
The bells ring calling the churchgoers to Mass, it is eight fifty seven when they stop, the Mass must be at nine in the morning.


And at eight fifty eight the son has finished the session with his friends.

At nine the bells toll four times for the full hour, and the wife and the son are busy making the Sunday breakfast.

Cat Miriam is sitting in the centre of the floor twitching her ears litening to all the noises with her twitching ears, head turning to and fro all the time. She is not moving.

But then at five past nine she does move.

The wine bottle from last night is still on the table

Seven? it is the sixth day, Saturday, seven in the morning all comfortable and warm and relaxed in bed.
E tao relaxante

just to rest and to allow the weeks work to wander away, to where it will.

And to think about the things to do for the next two days.

Rest untill the smell of fresh coffee just made drifts in from the kitchen
all is well, get up, it is nine in the morning.

Think about the mental exercise involved in trying to learn the basics of a language.


and get dressed and go to the market with the son and the wife.
Saturday market.
The wine bottle from last night is still on the table

Town gate, seen from the bus stop

Those roofs of all the houses out in the country between the towns.

15 April 2016

..... smother the seaside melody with the right hand, swipe other the mobile phone. Awake, night clothes off, and into the bathroom, shower brush the teeth, and return to the bedroom  put on the day clothes, comb the hair, make ready for the day. The first ten minutes elapse almost in sleep. Let the cat in from the corridor, she butts her head against legs of chairs, legs of human, and corners of furniture. 

Scratch her poll whilst waiting for Martins bells.

 scratch her poll again whilst waiting for Martins bells.
The cat follows down the hall, and looks an disappointed, she is not allowed out into the street. The street is being increasingly destroyed by workmen laying the pipes for the town's centralised heating project. Market day is today, a mass of vans and stalls, people move across and acriss in the square, setting up their stands, arranging their wares. It is to be a good day today, and there are more market stalls than there have been over the last winter months.

  Sorrowful dolores has her place at the bus stop today. good morning.

The sky is brightening fast, even at five forty in the morning as cars speed by on their way to their drivers workplace.
The town gate is still sombre in its bath of sodium illumination. The onibus, the payment, and the first. two kilometres of the day.. Upon leaving the bus, there is a near collision, Two men with short white hair. Both take a step to the right. Then to the left. Then confusion. Then to the left. They remain steady, studying for a second, laugh → apologise- Early morning dance.

The smoker is standing at the ashtray And Yormas is Back order, there is a new brew crew there, and everything works again, 
There is a sunrise visible as the Train arrives.
By the time the train has reached Freising it is already bright, the sun has risen and is setting the ex eaves of the roofs ablaze with orange light. 

Those roofs of all the houses out in the country between the towns.

Station early

The empty platform at Landshut railway station on 15.4.2016 at six in the morning

its diesel motors grumbling.

14 April 2016

the cat in the night, jumped on the bed, found a

space between the human legs, where it stayed until

the sound of the seaside melody on the phone.

The shower is warm sooner now as the water flows through

the new shower head more quickly. A seven

minute shower, wakens the system..

And the items for the day are all in the bag, but

for the heys,- a frantic search-, and there they are,

on the keyboard of the old computer.

So down the stairs and out of the building,

hurry down the street. It is dry today, and the

weather is relatively warm, there is no post.

There are different people at the bus stop today,
a man wandering amongst the bushes

between the road and the river promenade.

The fluffy headed, white haired man with

his hair like bog cotton arrives, the teacher too.
There is no Dolores today.


The bus ride was so uneventful, sleep
and the morning tablet having caught up
wth all the days activities again
The bus arrives before the railway station,
the last bends taken,
the bus bending almost to a right angle at the joint in its centre,
that joint covered with fabric folded  like a concertina, or a

camera bellows.

The smoker is not at his usual place in

front of the railway station building, he has

wandered off to read about upcoming events at  a noticeboard.

...sanity has returned to the cafe, the young

girl with the dark rimmed glasses is serving today,
saying 'Alice", or" is that all" in German, after each customer has been

served.

The pig tailed smoker comes in to the cafe, says good morning, and buys some items at the counter.

Stand in the cafes as the Rosenheim train comes into the platform outside,

its diesel motors grumbling.

It is time to go now, to go, to go for the

train that is five minutes late.

To the gpeyly-lit platform, with all those people in grey clothing, all headed for

work. Except for one old man with a silver switcase. He is on holidays, off season.

a light among all the winterly grey men and women

The melody from the mobile puts an end to what should have been sleep, but was actually not:
 get up, wife gets up to, so get the clothing ready for the day

When the bathroom is free, take a shower and then return to the bedroom, the cat purring to herself at the foot of the bed - A happy cat

 Leave the house, there are all the yellow bags in the street, yellow bags filled with plastic packaging that is no longer wanted. It is all due to be recycled

In the main street, and there is Dolores on her way to the bus stop, slow steps, tired.

At the other end of the street the town's men collecting the rubbish, gathering the yellow bags left out by the citizens

The discount bakery has blue bags out on the street. It does things differently. And the turkish fast food shop has yellow bags full of empty oil canisters, and other food containers.


 At the bus stop say hello to Dolores, a nod in reply - the boy cotton man and the teacher are there too T

he bus comes up to the bus stop, and all board


The smoker is at his space in front of the railway  station, reading notices that have bem affixed there
At the cafe the serving woman serving the coffee puts her head to one side and starts to roll her eyes after having said her" Guter Morgen. A ludicrous sight, is she insane? Then she forgets to serve he ordered and prepaid coffee, and stares about with widely opened eyes, so that the bloodshot whites are clearly visible. Who knows what is wrong here..It is perhaps not worth thinking about. Hedgehog is at his place in the corner of the cafe. He is alone these days, but that will change



................and then, on the railway platform a young  redhead, a young girl of great beauty, sits there, sipping her coffee, a light among  all the winterly grey men and women in their careless dark clothing being  miserable about their early morning business. She pust sits there, impeccable, red hair  tied up, standing out amongst the others as if she was lit separately or something No way to know what happened here, the train is in and it is time to  another working day:

spots in the sky from the unrisen sun

RJWLY 2016

Using the breathing mask once more, to regulate the

breathing during relaxed sleep.

Wake to the sound of the seaside melody from

the mobile telephone.

Toodaloo shower share and brush the teeth

comb the hair.

Find the glasses in the sitting room.

The cat cries to be let in, and so be it. Then

it runs around a few times, now it cries at

the door to be let out again.

The animal does not know what it wants.

The rubbish bins live the street today, it is to

The discount bakery has a pile of cardboard too,

before it's door waiting to be collected. They are

waist high, there is a young woman there

looking at the pile of waste.

The bus driver is wearing thin gloves, to

keep his hands cleanly, from all the money. Maybe those gloves also improve he

grip on the wheel.

at the station, the smoker with the pigtail,

not at his usual place, but some metres an

reading the notices on an advertising pillar.

No good mornings.

A cup of coffee in the cafe, paper up and

plastic lid. A yellow paper cup with

blue writing printed on it.

The regular morning pill was forgotten

today, a problem, not a disaster. One

missed is not so serious

-

A distant announcement heralds the

arrival of the Rosenheim diesel. A short

while later, another announcement, and

this time the Munich Express from Passau.

Hurry to the platform, down the

urine and vomit scented undepass tunnel

and up the stairs. It is the spring fair, the

people drinking at the beer tents, that

does it.

Nobody reading newspapers,  all on their mobile phones reading their mail or listening to music or whatever have you.
Newspaper readers have become a rare sight nor, this must be

affecting the neuter industry seriously.

The morning has brightened by nor,

it is six twenty-The train has left

Moosburg behind, and is speeding through

a dim grey landscape, Soft lighting

from low clouds, red spots in the sky from the unrisen sun red against a blue-

back ground.

grey

Cows resting in a meadow, brown

and white, reclining ruminants, chew cud,

and, ruminating.-

Prepare to change trains in Freising.

and another day of solitary work

waits.

it is further above sea level.

Monday April 2018
turn the mobile phone off, it is caroling the seaside melody as an early wakener. It is on a stand beside the bed now.

Slower, shave as every day, the shower head is new, and it has a different spray pattern.

Today is a day of lost things, no belt to be found, the keys are gone, it is all in disorder.

Monday morning, it is forecast to be a warm day, dress more lightly than usual

Monday, all those things that need to be done this week, and the things that could not be finished last week.

Oh well.

Run into an open door in the dark searching for the belt.

On the street, a dark haired very large woman wishes a cheerful good morning, Mutter in reply, oh yes, she is the one from

the discount bakery

Dolores at the bus stop, well muffled in her coat. A nod for a good morny today.

The lit up hotel opposite, on the other bank of the river isar, that tributary of the Danube, the one that flows from the Alps and then through Munich, Moosburg, onward through Landshut,

Past that hotel with the deserted breakfast rooms, brightly lit on these still-dark morning

No other sign of live in the hotel, hotel, There are no lights in the windows.

Either there are no guests, or none of them are awake yet.

The fluffy headed bog cotton man follows Dolores to the entrance of the bus s that has now arrived. He is followed by the teacher.

In front of the station the pigtailed smoker stands at the ashtray, smoking. He is alone today.

The chaos at the cafe has not let up at all, it is a shame that Anastasia is no longer there.

Let us hope that she has moved on to better

Things..

Before the train leaves Landshut today, dawn has broken, the train that arrived late has problems with its bad brakes, and

cannot roll out on time.

So that it is twelve minutes late.

And after it has left Moosburg, the landscape

is whitened with early morning frost.

Freising is a bit colder than Landshut,

it is further above sea level.

This is silly.

The cat calls at night, locked into the corridor. Let her in, purrr, a sound with at least three letter Rs at the end.
But the silly animal continues to make noises in the bedroom, so the wife picks her up and throws her out again.
so it goes.

Fall asleep again, why stay awake. The cat starts to cry again, distantly, from behind the glass to the corridor.

so it goes.


Later, awake in the light, the Sunday morning light. It is peaceful, quiet.
Go to the bathroom, look at the orchid.
It has lost a flower, it just dropped off.

Then get dressed, out into the chaotic kitchen
put a few things away, load the dishwasher, tell the son to clean his plate from last night.
No no no no no he is not interested.
Now this is not a matter of interest, does he expect the plate to clean itself? Or does he expect it to be cleaned by somebody else? Or what?
Should we throw it away because it is dirty?
No.

This is silly.
The workspace has been sufficiently cleared now to get at the things needed for the coffee.
tomo cafe
The son clears out the kitchen oven.
And puts on a sunday breakfast cake, an appelstrudel, to be ready in twenty minutes.
And then we continue to tidy up his room,

misery, this is not going to get anywhere soon

writing on the machine

late up, it is Saturday. A day of bright sunlight, pale blue sky.
It is nine in the morning, it would have been time to rise from bed, levantar, some time ago, where it not for the body's wish for rest.
Wife brings a cup of coffee, all well, and sitting at the edge of the bed there is time to think about what to do with the rest of the day.

Hope for a new poem from the two amateur poets, hope that they have time, and that they wish to write again. The wish for something not existent, everyone has it, and there is no point in self delusion, it will not make things that are not there, that are not available, exist.
Are like, love, hate, dislike, contempt, reverence, attraction, revulsion all contradictory, or can lovers hate and dislike? Or must all feelings really exist in a sort of pristine unity on a little plinth of their own, to be admired, the seven deadly sins of the past as statues to warn the congregation.

Thoughts like these over coffee are not constructive, there is a shower to be repaired, a corridor to be cleaned and tidied, these things that must be done so that the days may continue.

so think about clothing, get ready for the day.
Mentally that is.
Drink another cup of coffee first
 and stop sitting at the opened desk writing on the machine

so Friday can begin, the last day of the week, a week now wet, cold, miserable and dark.

seaside, super loud, the melody sounds and wakens the wife and the cat too. silence that, amid contumely from the wife and noisy activity by the cat take a shower, enjoy the warmth of the water, him off the lights that had been left on during the night, maybe by the son, maybe by the wife. Take a fresh shirt from the wardrobe. Put the Hwhz shoes on today., and wear that was an jacket. It is raining outside. The cat stands at the exit door to the flat, broken over its shoulder, making noises this is a saogestun, a hint, that the door be opened, so that she may enter the corridor. Open the door, let her out. Check that all the utlhe items for the day are in the carrier bag, and sound of two bells from the saint Martins church, leave the flat. The cat is half way down the stairs, waiting. There is a strange beagle in the corridor, the tenant's becyet has multiplied, now the daughter of the tenant stores her bicycle there too.
Leave the house for the sodden street, pass the barriers surrounding the gaps in the pavement, the pavement being torn up now to accomodate some heating pipes. There are six red beacons on the barrier, but only one is lit and blinking.
Pass the church, and into the miserable activity of all the market traders setting up their tents and awnings. To keep the rain off their wares, and their customers dry.
The sausage merchant is cutting joined sausages apart behind a transparent plastic curtain. He has a small topknot in his hair. He will cook those sausages later, and sell them in small cardboard dishes, axxompanied by a bread roll and a squirt of mustard. A business feeding the sated and the overfed with savouries.
Pass the discount bakery, with it's longhaired blonde owner chatting to his assistant. She is shorter and dark-haired.
 They are busy reheating and unpacking their things for the day.

In the bus shelter, there is dolourful Dolores, sitting on her seat. A smile, she has better humour today. She moves over to make space on the bench. She is wearing a leopord skin patterned headscarf today. An anti rain leopord, matching the leopard hand bag.
She moves over to make space on the bench.


It is a wet day, and the teacher arrives, in time for the expected five forty two a.m. bus.

This arrives shortly, and so Friday can begin, the last day of the week, a week now wet, cold, miserable and dark.

dawn landscape with all the houses glowing luminou

77th of April, 2016 The seaside song, loud., No! Stagger, to the writing desk and turn the melody off. To the bathroom, the hair is standing on end after last nights shower. Perhaps it is not such a smart idea, to shower in the evening and then to go to bed with damp hair.
 Shave and brush the hair and the teeth, and get fresh underwear. and then, take an apple for breakfast, and wait for the two saint Martins bells that will say that it is time to go.

The cat comes into the room, and strolls over to butt it's head against the human legs, awaiting a hand to scratch it's poll. She purrs, a scratchy vibrant purr today, maybe the cat has a bit of a cold.
At the sound of the two bells, open the door and leave for the corridor. The cat follows, then runs ahead down the stairs. Leave the house for the cool and dark alley. It is not raining, not as forecast, the road is dry, the pavements dry.. A man approaches, he is huddled in a coat, moving well to one side  to avoid contact, collision, or whatever.

 Follow Dolores down the Theater Street. she is slow today. A greeting, and that is that. An older woman on the way to the bus stop, a coat, flat shoes, and a leopardskin printed handbag. good Morning dolores. Do not be sad.

A woman, not very old, maybe thirty five, in a red rainproof coat, padded., with blond hair and a heavily marked face is begging at the bus stop. She asks for a large sum, and is refused.




Later, at the station, there is the pig tailed smoker in the centre of the station's forecourt, just finishing his cigarette. And yorma's cafe is slow again, a silly fumbling waitress, Hedgehog and his colleagues talking about the railway, the television set up on the wall silently showing its advertising. Today a couple are extolling the qualities of car wax, a silly show.

The little train from Rosenheim comes in to the railway platform, and it is Time to leave for the platform, and to watch the train come in slowly, stop, then start agin, then to stop abruptly as it couples with the waiting carriages. After a short while the doors open, get aboard

 Then the train is ready to rush through the dawn landscape with all the houses glowing  luminous  in their bright whte paint


, 77th of April, 2016

The seaside song, loud. Fwalh, no stagger, to the

writing desk and turn the melody off.

To the bathroom, the hair is standing on end

after last nights shower. Perhaps it is not such

a smart idea, to shower in the evening and

then to go to bed with damp hair.

95 love and brush the hair, and get fresh underwear.

and then, take an apple for breakfast, and

wait for the two saint Martins bells that will

say that it is time to go.

The cat comes into the room, and strolls

over to butt it's head against the human legs,

awaiting a hand to scratch it's poll. she

purrs, a Scratchy purr today, maybe the cat

has a bit of a cold.

at the sound of the two bells, open the door

and leave for the corridor. The cat follows, aio

then runs ahead down the stairs.

Leave the house for The cool and dark alley.

It is not raining as forecast, the road is

dry, the pavements dry..

Wwan approaches, he is huddled in a

caut, moving well after to avoid contact,

collision, or whatever.

Follow Dolores down the theater stood.

she is slow today. A greeting, and that is that.

An older woman on the way To the bus stop,

a coat, flat shoes, and a leopardskin prht

handbag.

good Morning dolores. Do not be sad.

A woman, not very old, maybe thirty five,

in a red muimoafjoehet, padded., with

Hurd hair and a heavily marked face

is begging at the bus stop. She asks for

a large sum, and is refused.

Later, at the station, there is the pig

tailed smeter in the centre of the station's

forecourt, just finishing his ayurette.

And yorma's cafe is slow again, a

silly fumbling waitress, Hedgehog

and his colleagues totting about the

railway, the television set up on the

wall silently showing its advertising.

Today a couple are exhaling the qualities

of car wat, a silly show.

"The little trait from Rosenheim comes in

to the railway platform, and it is Time

to leave for the platform, and to watohthe

train come in slowly, stop, then start agin,

then to stop abruptly as it couples withthe

waiting carriages.

After a short while the doors open, online

tvnin is ready to rush Through the daixn

Tardsoape with all the luminous houses

glowing in their pmst one point,

he is fast, friendly, and makes fewer mistates.

Tuesday, 6th April 2016 – Seaside melody, walk across the room from the bed to switch it off. Back to bed for five minutes. then get up, to the bathroom, brush the teeth and comb the hair. A shower had already been taken the night before, there is no need to overdo it. search for the watch, a coat, (it is to rain later today). 

Find a fresh jacket, and gather the heavy camera bay, the bag with the tripod, and leave the house. Who knows where the cat is today. It simply does not appear to be around .

Pick up the bags and go downstairs, down to the street. Leave behind the messy flat. The son has scattered his schoolbooks all over the floor, an awful mess. He will get back into the routine of school work after his long holiday in Ireland, sometime.

Out into the street, the dry street, still and dark -  one of the neighbours opens her door and comes out of her house, an elderly lady seeing to her plants, the ones that are in large troughs out in the street. Wish her good morning, she is surprised, unrecognising.

Dolores is ahead, proceeding along the Theater street, under the town gate, onward to the bus stop. The bags are heavy, and during the slow progress to the bus shelter the bog cotton man overtakes.

 He is in a hurry to light up his mommy morning cigarette, his five thirty two cigarette. Teacher and another turn up, this bus is becoming more popular as prices rise and road congestion increases. 

There is no pigtailed smoker at the station,  and the slow service girl at the iYorma cafe has given up. She is replaced by an able woman, who is no faster, a seems confused. The man with the shaven head helps out again, he is fast, friendly, and makes fewer  mistates.

The children are sleeping

seaside melody from the telephone on the old writing table, get up, fingers pass over it from left to right.
Silence.

Bathroom, shower and shave. The head is heavy with the cold, despite the warmth of the morning. The showere is almost fully blocked with lime now, it really will need to be cleared.

Turn the lights on in the bedroom, there is the cat Miriam on the bed, yawning to herself. Find the clothing where it had been left last night, Dress for the day, and collect all the items needed for this day. The cat wants to leave the house too, but it is not allowed to.


the misery of it, the keys are not to be found. Open the writing desk again, search, glasses on.
Take a pill.

The keys are in the bag after all, so leave the house.

It is really warm outside today. Move on past all the building site machinery all arrayed in front of the bank at the church. They will start work this week, tearing up the street for the new urban heating system.

The bus shelter with Dolores sitting in it, the man with the bog cotton hair smoking.
Because the sky is cloudless it is getting bright already.


At the station, see that the notebook has been left behind, resting on the table in the bedroom. This story is from memory, there are no notes.

The coffee service is disturbingly slow, the woman seems to be incapable of speeding up at all. Why, her good mornings are pleasant, but now there is always a line of people at the counter. Friendly, and inefficient.


And this is a terrible morning, the head is whistling like fury, the eyes will not focus properly. On the benches on the platform there is what appears to be a whole family of syrians, the women with bright scarves, the man in a bum freezer jacket, a sort of leather blouson.
They are waiting for the train, they look nervous. The children are sleeping

and dawn has broken to daybreak as we reach Freising

awaken in the own bed, up early. With all the changes in time due to the passed time zones, worry over the time shown on the watch. The clock on the telephone says that it is a quarter past four, earlier than in Cork. The joys of modern science, making all of the need toor extreme care in the adjustment of watches and calendars redundant. 

A time patchwork across the continents automatically adjusted. Finally, gather all the items needed for a successful journey to work, to the work that had not wanted or waited. 

The cat Miriam appears from under the bed, she sleeps there now. She wants to go out to the hallway, she is a young year-old cat that wants her freedom. The orchid in the bathroom is at its place in the light the bathroom lamp in the pre-down window, the dates have been changed, It is really dark outside. and then, find the keys and leave the house, leaving the dissapointed cat behind, she who wants to explore dark alleys, and to do all her things that cats do there. 

The alley is empty, construction work involving the laying at-pipes. the whole street will be closed for months, the only traffic will be big yellow machines. and noisy workers. 

The works on the perfume shop are nearly finished, three yellow skips in front of the door with the remains of all the old interior details inside them. 

There are more people at the bus stop today. Dolores is there, and a girl, her first time waiting here, asking "whether the bus will be on time". The teacher, and the bog cotton man arrive. The bus driver takes his money and gives the change, looking grimly at the bank note. 

At the station, there is the pigtailed smoker wearing his dark shirt, short sleeved on this warm day- Yorma´s cafe is in chaos, The young girl behind the counter has grown no faster with time. The bald headed man comes out to help, and he is really fast. she thanks him for his hedp, the coffees. and cappocinos are all served. Hedgehog ↳ alone in the cafes, and a few sups later and we may both go to the train.   

The train is delayed. Delayed for fifteen minutes. 

This is Monday, and dawn has broken to daybreak as we reach Freising

late on a Sunday morning

aseptic awakening in the clean hotel room, strangely styled furniture made of coated mdf-typ pressed wood. Fake period forms, they are good for photographs and age badly.
That saturday wedding yesterday, an insane all day event, and ending in the maudlin evening with sentimental alcohol induced vows of eternal friendship. All the great dancers, all the tired children, the happy bride and the noisy noisy band. Volume bolstering out any lack of quality.
The hotel room has a flimsy shower, well used, clean, repack the bags.
The young son is exhausted in his bed, asleep, deep. He was talking and chatting, young girls tried to make him dance, he was shy, unwilling. And it was one in the morning before we were back home.
Shower and repack the backs, make a cup of instant coffee from the utensils provided by the hotel.
The son will not waken early today.

Open the windows, let some fresh air into the stuffy sealed-off room, feel the cool air pour in as the damp-sated warm air of the night escapes.


And hear the other guests, all rising late on a Sunday morning

a quiet Saturday.

up and look at the grey dampness of an early Irish spring outside the window, the wet grass, grey green. Grey because of the water drops, green because of the chlorophyll. Yellow daffodils because it is Easter.
Go to the bathroom, toodlehoo, shave with the shaver, wash the shaving gel off of the face, admire the now-infected spot on the right cheek where there had been a pustula, one that should not have been squeezed out so roughly.
Take a shower wash the hair, return to the bedroom. The son is still asleep, oblivious, distant, away in the land of Nod.
Take that pill, the one to calm, to relieve the depression. Just one, not so serious.


It is the wedding day today, Lorna, the youngest of a large family, it is the last day in the south of Ireland, the last day in this soft green landscape with it's crepescular mornings.
In the kitchen the brothers son is up and resting in his fathers seat, dreaming, awakenining, preening the long long hair that eleven year olds wear these days, that eleven year olds may wear these days, these days of free thought

Make a coffee, and make these notes,
The young man goes to wake the son.
The son will not waken, and the little bright birds are at their feeders, pecking away whilst clinging to the wire structures with their tiny claws, never using the plasic perches placed there for them by the human designer of the feeder.
And there is nothing in the news today, a quiet Saturday.

For the second time

dark and five, no sleep.
Hear the son's sleeping across the room, deep relaxed breathing of an older child that does not snore.
yet.

No light.
Feel for the computer in the dark.
Down the corridor into the kitchen, the lights on.
Under the door, a crack, light seeping through.
The brother, vast and strong, asleep on the couch in front of the silenced television.


at the table, take some bread, some cheese, look at the machine, wonder at the confusion in the world.
wonder at the confusion in the mind.

The brother wakes in the next room, stumbles a few times, then into the kitchen, says "Good night", corrects to "Good morning" and off up to his official bed.
Fell asleep in front of the television set.

And after having read the news, back to bed.

And at nine, wake to a morning grey in it's misery, with rain pouring from the sky, steadily and without remit.

It is the first of April, and the usual untrue stories are exchanged, the one of the spot on the nose and the pink parrot at small bird feeder attached to the outside of the window with suction cups.
The small boys fall for the tall stories, and the brother wishes a good morning
For the second time.