branded

An hour lost in the night, in the early morning around three in the morning, a painless time for clocks to change, to move ahead for an hour, robbing the night of one hour and telling lies about the time to awaken on a Sunday morning.

The clocks were set at midnight, ahead of the official time, but that way sleep is undisturbed.
Morning comes, the son is up, see his face from the shelter of the bedclothes, His face comes close he looks.

Cafe?

A single word enquiry

And a feeling of dismay, knowing that getting up now is painful and, as a result, difficult, please please a few minutes more with the warm covers.


The few minutes have elapsed, the mewing cat wants a head scratch, get up and feel the feline fur on the bare legs as the cat rubs her back there-
pull the drawer from the wardrobe, fresh underwear
and socks.

tick tock from the clocks, the clocks an hour later than the body.

Go out into the deserted town with the son, to the cafe in the main street.
A large cocoa and a large coffee, a roll and a flat loaf of Turkish bread filled with tomato and Mozzarella cheese for the son.

And slowly, slowly the body recedes from the land of nod.

The landlord of the local engages in a conversation with an older man. The landlord is wearing the traditional Bavarian short leather trousers, he has a big beer belly and close cropped hair. On his feet the shoes by a modern sportswear company, three stripes on the side.
The calf of his right hand leg has the brand name of the brewery that he works for tattooed upon it.

Branded.

early riser

rest on
The times have past in which a direct switch from work to weekend was possible.
a period of rest is needed
Is this laziness?
no clear idea
No definite plans any more on how to continue with life, and all of it's parts, presents itself.
so make a cup of delicious strong black coffee whilst everyone is asleep.
Everyone is asleep, but the cat is awake, and she wants attention.
so feed the cat
make coffee
sit in the sordid sitting room
and wait

insistent

insistent now, the cat insists that it has a right to the comfortable black-clad knees. Insistent, demanding.

So spend a few minutes rubbing the cat's bony little fur-covered head, running the hand over the furry back, and listen to the purring sound from the cat, happy.
then the cat senses that it is time to go, the petting stops, she jumps down.

A fresh shirt, the jacket, check for the wallet. The shoes are hard new and tight, they will soften up in time.

Walk the alleys to the little black car. The windows are covered in condensation, but it starts well and easily.

And out into the competition and misshapen communication of the roads, the racing of the motorways, the impatience and intolerance.

Arrive at work.
The first person to be seen, a grunted good morning.
A shadow in the corridors.
It is too early today

A day of personal isolation.

Switch on the radio, at work, sit in front of the computer.
Look at yesterdays pictures.
Start the selection

The pictures are no good
there are too many failures
this is depressing
go over them one by one, there are technical failures
throw them out

There may be only ten out of the four hundres
Friday.

error

the cat jumps up onto the lap again today, the cat demands a few minutes, purring loudly, enjoying the meagre warmth from the human legs, vibrating with some small pleasure.

Let her out into the passageway, the stairwell,
Leave the house, go up the alley to the new market street, all freshly surfaced with Chinese granite.

Find the car there where it was left the night before, wedged in between a large delivery truck and some SUV-like vehicle, that looks like a space age toy.

Take the illegal shortcut again, there is no wish to manoeuvre the car around the town trying to find a road that has not been blocked by some maintenance crew.

And out on the main road again, all those impatient racing Germans, aggressive Poles, cars cutting in,  overtaking into the headlights of oncoming traffic, all for the sake of a few minutes. How valuable time is! People will do anything to save it, to use it and not to let it slip away.
And then they make stupid remarks like "I wish it was Friday".

Take the left hand exit from the main road, the entrance to the university campus, the road all patchy with repairs, bumps, areas just filled with grit.
A left, and then a right, park beside the SUV belonging to the professor who always starts early, the one who's every conversation turns to a description of things that he did, is currently doing and things that he has planned.

Leave the car, tiny and black beside that silver monstrosity, the "I" car.
And upon showing the machine at the wall the chip, and it tells me that there is some error.
Stupid machine.

illegal

the showerhead is blocked with lime from the water again, there is a new shower head necessary every two years because of this. Stand under the fine warm spray of water, barely awake, sleep only minutes away in the past. Then dry the water off with a towel, and back to the bedroom. Fresh pants and a shirt, fresh trousers.
Sit down to put the socks on and with a grunt-like meeow sound the cat jumps up onto the knees. She wants her early morning caress. So sit there, still barefoot, and stroke the cat for a few moments.
A minute.
And then put the socks onto the feet, the cat jumps down, and uses her paw to pull open the bedroom door.

socks on, shoes on, jacket and then nearly forgotten -  the wallet.

Walk through the nearly sleeping town, pass the little backery, and pass the sign to the pub called Vempyr, spread bat wings are it's trade mark.

Find the car, get in. Because of the rain, there is no reception on the radio.

And the tunnel is still closed.

Take an illegal shortcut through the town, there is no point wasting half an hour driving about.

Driving cars is not nice in the dark and the rain.
But it is better than riding a motorbike in those conditions.

Oh well, off to work again.

alternative

There is a black cat mewing disconsolately at the door to a house. The animal has been locked out, and is trying to gain attention now. The poor animal has been probably locked out all night. A cyclist rolls along the pavement, delivering newspapers. The bicycle The car has ice on the windscreen, a light coating, more than can be removed by the use of the windscreen wipers. So take the ice scratcher from glove pocket inside the door, and scratch the ice away. It is only a very light coating of ice, there is no problem.
Get into the car, the seats are of red leather. That is one of the strange surprises of buying cars second hand, they have features installed which would never have been ordered,
For reasons of taste.

Start the engine, reverse, then forward and drive forward to the square at the rear of the police station.
Turn the car about, and drive up the narrow cobbled street beside the market square. Take a left, a right, avoid ice-blinded early morning traffic coming the other way, and

The tunnel is closed. Closed for maintenance.
This means having to drive the long way around, and
this means that the arrival at work sixty kilometres away will be delayed by five minutes.

That is annoying, being stuck in traffic, when the alternative would have been drinking an early cup of coffee on the train.

dizzy monday

Awake, there is shock, the alarm sounds during a dream that had no place for going to work.
Agape, clumsy, fumbly, fold back the tablet's cover, touch the button displayed on the screen.
Stagger into the hallway, all systems asleep, open the glass door to the hall the door to the bathroom, turn on the water of the shower, raise the lid on the lavatory.
And then have to go out again into the cold corridor to find a towel in the cabinet there.
The water has warmed, wash the hair the arms the armpits the legs even the feet. Fast.
Use the towel, dry, take up the toothbrush scrub the teeth.

Return to the bedroom, throw the night clothes onto the bed, take fresh underwear from the wardrobe,  pat the cat that seeks attention now, get dressed up.
Cannot find the jacket
Where is it?
Not here not there.


And all the while a dense feeling in the head telling it's owner that he would be better off in bed.
all the while
eyes unfocusable

o

walk past the bakery, newstreet market.
doen the Bindergasse
and to the little black car.

and drive to work.

sedentary

The sky outside is bright, even though it is really early in the day. Get up, go to the lavatory, the bathroom, the loo.
Whatever you like to call it.
It is cold. The time of year is still winter, it is March, the nights are cold, the radiator there was off. The tiles are cold, and the water from the tap is cold.
Take the computer to the living room. Read about Trump and Brexit, Trump is silent, a few millions in London are not. Neither has much to do with the other. Then again, maybe those saying that there is a grand conspiracy are right, for once and for only.

Make a cup of coffee, butter a slice of bread. This is the day of rest. Look up the times at which the brother is supposed to arrive from Ireland today. Ten fifteen in the morning, time of arrival in Munich Airport.

And now the cold is in the living room. The light night clothes are just not suitable for sitting at the wooden table in the big room. The son gets up and goes back to bed again after wandering about for a  while.
The wife sleeps on, she was up late last night

And the day is brighter now.
The cat comes over and jumps onto the knees, between the table and the chair.
Then the son's alarm clock sounds. The cat jumps down and rushes to the kitchen, She is hungry, maybe he will feed her.

demand

stay in bed longer, rest a while more. There is no need for an automatic rising, or getting up like a waking machine.  And it is not fair, for there is no advantage to it, other than that it is possible to obsess on back pains and a shortness of breath. Normally, there  is the overriding imperative of having to be in time for the bus, of being on time for work.

not today
lie in bed
misery
lesser pains and aches
a hissing in the right ear
that only went away once

Get up
grab the clothes
a cup of black coffee
a bit of yesterdays roll
some butter and cheese
a sort of breakfast, all alone at home.
The others are all asleep.

And then the son gets up,
gets ready to go out
he wants to go,
to go to the cafe
saturday ritual

now

moon

Friday, zbt March, 2019

Walk up the alley, not fully woken up yet.

But showered, fresh and dean. Actually, feeling

old and decrepit. The dunk on the left, two

ears rush up the pedestrian zone, empty at

this hour..

But for cars taking illicit shortcuts.

The bus stop is empty of people, turn around,

there is Dolohes, just walking through the town gate

cross the road, listen to the birds, they are

hidden in the trees, singing there. go back, there is

nothing to be seen. But somewhere in the trees there

is a bird whistling and singing for what it is worth

Back at the wxs stop, speak to Dolores, ask

her how her leg is. she has arthritis, it is much

more serious than one would Think. Still, she

gaed. to work, she must be well over sixty year.

H i obtained a

mug cup of coffee from the railway

cafe, gone#the platform, waited for the punctual

train, now sitting there looking out of the window.

Happy to see the early morning landscape,

fog wisps and full moon, Moon over a hill

with the silhouettes of bare trees fringing it

fanimmkthhdnfts. green is showing in the

Local trains as of here

Thursday21st of March, 2019

Arriving at the railway station, the bus takes

the last corner into the bus station. stand at the

door, the button pressed, waiting for the door to

open, other passengers jostling from the

rear. Jump down to the pavement and hurry

across the space in front of the building. See

that the smoker has just left his spot by the

ashtray. He is climbing the stairs to the

main entrance.

Look up, see a big round moon over. the

station. Be jostled again by a young man

in a hurry to go to the cafe. The young

woman Andrea is serving today, all cheerful

and happy. She remembers all of the things that her regular customers like. A large cup

of coffee, a stamp on the small card. Return to the entrance of the cafe, there is a counter with plastic lids, milk and sugar. Put a

lid onto the paper cup and leave the station 4 building for the platforms. On the first platform take the steps down to the passage under the tracks. At platform number six climb the granite stairs, the knees complain a little in the cold air. There are not as many people there as yesterday, and the train

is punctual. Watch as the narrow fast short train rushes into the station with an electrical whine. And then let all of those in a hurry board the train first.
Find a nice seat wit it's own small table, and settle down to write these notes. A pair of ticket inspectors come by, look at all the tickets and move on.

Admire the big moon over the frosted countryside as the train rushes on.

First stop is in Moosburg

And get out in Freising

Local trains as of here.

cat flap

Wednesday 20th March, 2019

The cat jumps up onto the knees, stretches and lies down on the black trousers. Scratch her head.

After a while she jumps down to the ground again, and goes away. There is a sound from the cat

flap, she is on her way to the cat tray.

The legs are heavy, movement is slow. Age is making itself felt, the morning is too early.

Say 'good Morning' to Dolores at the bus stop. She is in pain, because of her leg.

The bus ride, the bus is crowded today. There is no smoker on the space before the railway station.

And the woman serving in the cafe has the coffee made without a word of greeting or even an order. Just wordlessly handed over the counter.

visible

Later, from the train. a big moon is visible, just over the hills on, either side of the river valley..

It is huge, it looks full.
And sleep wants to return, to take over the body that belonged to it. but a short while ago.

deutsche Härte

Tuesday, 19th March, 2019

The shower head is partially blocked today, it is the lime in the water. Degrees of Deutsche Härte,

a measure of water hardness used in Germany. It means that the pipes furr up, and shower

heads especially. How many degrees the water has locally is unclear, but it is obviously enough to damage the shower heads.

Finish, leave the bathroom full of steam, and return to the bedroom. Throw the night clothes onto the bed, and take a fresh set of underwear from the wardrobe. The cat is craving attention, purring loudly. She starts to chew the cables belonging to the I-phone, shoo her away.

She then starts to lick the shoes. Cats do strange things, and maybe this cat is not quite normal.

The alley is dry, the day will be warmer 

today. Rumbling sounds of car tyres on the cobbles, just keep the head down and carry

on. There is a delivery track outside Grimm's shop opposite to the church. The driver and his

mate are discussing their manifest, there seems to be something wrong with the paperwork.

Out on the market square, there is further rambling from tyres-It must be another truck.

Don't bother looking. Just concentrate on moving on down through the town gate.
This is just another horrible day, sore joints, it is just too too early in the morning.

jingle music

Monday, 18th March 2019

The jingle from the computer tablet pierces the dreams, ends the state of sleepiness and sleep. Fumble in the dark, trying to find the device on the table. Turn on the small lamp, there it is, remove the plastic flap, and touch the button on the now-glowing screen.

The jingle music stops.

Go to the bathroom, turn on the hot water for the shower, let it run until it is warm. Use the bar of soap bought on Saturday. It is different from the liquid soap from the dispenser, it seems to be not as slippery. Brush the teeth, return to the bedroom.

The cat is there, she starts to lick the leather of a pair of shoes beside the bed. She does that often in the morning, perhaps there is salt from the streets on them.  Later, sit down, the cat lies down on the knees, depositing tawny cat hairs there. she stays there until suddenly, without any visible warning, she scratches the hand that is stroking her, and tries to bite.

Push her to the floor, there is no need for bloody hands early in the morning.

gather up all the items needed for the day.

Leave the house.
The alley is cold and dry.
It is dark.
Head down, stride to the bus stop.
Church, town gate, there is a man feeding pigeons.

There is Dolores in the bus shelter, looking old and tired.

There comes the taxi driver, today with a straggly tacky beard.


the bus driver accelerates, a drag race maybe, hang on to the pillars in the carriage, fight the G-forces, find a place to sit.
Stress in the morning
Look forward to the first coffee at the station café.

.

no movement early morning

this will be the third cup this Sunday, at six to eight in the morning
the son is long up, he is looking at the computer, he has set up the coffee machine
The sun is up somewhere low down in a blue sky decorated with the contrails of the aircraft flying to and from Munich international airport

The son is sad that the wife will not wake up and say thank you for the coffee that he has brought.

Get up to make the third cup, go to the bathroom.
Return to the desk in the corner of the bedroom with the large white cup three quarters full of brown foamy liquid

Laptop on the knees, writing dirctly online.

The wife snores a bit,
the son coughs as he is in front of the computer
he is doing school homework, there are so many ways to do homework now

Maths, physics, Latin, things people have to know, things that will be useful.
There is a small pain now in the top left of the chest, and a warm pleasant feeling, contentment.
Coffee addiction maybe, who knows.

The son says that he wants to bake a cake

Sunday breakfast, good for him

opposites

leave the house, follow the son to the end of the alley. The alley is full of parking cars and a small truck. People are moving flat, finding a better place to stay, or simply unable to pay. The son wanders off to watch, call him back, it is rude to stare. And anyhow, it is improper to gawp at people's private belongings. They are private.

Go back down the alley, all the way, turn left at the junction. Diagonally opposite, police cars in front of the police station, parked in a row in front of the building.
Cross the road at the designated spot, there is a stylised figure of a man walking painted on the pavement just there. Done in white.

On the opposite side, another man like that. Be careful to step on the white circle representing his head.
The son has chosen to cross the road elsewhere, there is little traffic about so it does not matter.

Enter the café, the son hems and haws.
Order a cup of coffee and a croissant.
The son drinks a coke and eats a Bienenstichkuchen.
Sting of the bee cake, sweet, nut things on top.

Sit down, discuss computers.

A man who loves fast cares and has a big phone sits down on the next seat. His big car, a huge American sports car is parked outside. He is a small man, thin.

Opposites attract.
The son starts to talk about the east German car, the Trabant. Quite the opposite, a tiny thing with a minute motor, a cheap solution to individual transport.

tiny black car

the cat jumped up onto the lap sand purred, held it's head out to be scratched, lay down on her back. Pet the bony head and stroke the long tawny sides.

Read the news on the tablet, the British have decided for indecision, they miscalculated, they imagined, they view the same facts differently.

Sorry for half the populace, give or take a few percent.

The morning shower taken, leave the house to go to the car, the tiny black car.
It has been raining, and the radio antenna does not work when it is wet. Ugly crackling, only the most asinine pop radio station is to be heard. Idiots joking to each other, shouting over the ether.

But the car starts well, and runs, the tiny diesel motor grumbling away to itself. Steer it through the dark town, take the tunnel under the hill and then follow the traffic onto the country road. A German federal road, a Bundesstraße.
There are big trucks here, driving slowly.
Follow.

There will be so little time gained by moving faster.


The first person to say good morning today is the electrician, at work.
At six thirty.

waddle

13 March 2019
Hurry down the alley behind the church, cross the market street, the old town street. Walk over the brass stones set into the ground, the ones commemorating victims  of the Nazi régime. Atrocities that are not to be forgotten, personal fates in times of great oppression.

Hurry on down theatre street, past butchers and bakers, show shops and clothes shops. See the bus stop in the distance, there is a person on the bench in the bus shelter. That is Dolores, her being there means that the bus has not passed yet. This is a relief, wish her good morning.

There are a few ducks out on the pavement today, a group of three, walking about, quacking in a way that sounds indignant to human ears. They waddle hither and thither, maybe they are searching for fallen bread. They are just about their duck business. They do not fly, they walk. Or perhaps you could call it waddling.

The taxi driver man arrives, so does the bus.
Be the last to board, and pay the fare that has been carefully counted whilst waiting.

claws

12 March 2019

The cat chews the wires leading from the charging smartphone to the electric mains socket. she likes the taste of the wires. Then she starts to lick the leather of the shoes under­neath the writing desk. Then she reaches up, digs her claws into the trouser legs,  pricking the legs beneath, to haul herself up onto the human knees. There is time, so spend four minutes stroking the cat, let her roll onto her back. Touch her tummy, and suddenly the claws are out and she bites. She expects humans to know

that she does not allow that liberty. so scratch her under the chin, until she calms down.
The scratch is not bad, the bite neither, it is not bleeding.

Walk through the town, pass Grimms shop, the one that had had a picture taken of it

the night before.

tinnitus

11 March 2019

From the bus stop, watch the taxi driver lock his bicycle to the nearby public bicycle stands. He will then wait for the bus, pay the minimum fare, and then make a bus journey of five hundred metres. It would appear to be easier to use the bicycle for the whole journey. There must be some other reason for the change from bicycle to bus. Dolores still has her medical support on  her leg.

She gives a grin and says "good morning'. In German, with a turkish accent.

Earlier, upon leaving the house, there was a couple with a dog walking up the street.

The dog was on a leash, and he was wearing dog coat The woman was of Oriental appearance, the man more European.

It was early to be walking a small white dog.

At the church, a near collision with a cyclist. She comes this way on many days, perhaps she has an early shift at the police station this week.


Say good morning to the smoker at the staion, and climb the stairs, and join the queu for coffee in the Yormas café.
Stand in the queue, listen for the tinnitus in the right hand ear.

 It has gone today. What

Joy!

rain Sunday

awake to the sound of dripping rain outside, a grey glaring sky projecting flat soft light into the room. The cat is fussing at the door, she wants to be let out.
Get up, let her out.
A sore back adds to the humour, go to the bathroom.
The bedroom filled with the smell of sleep.
Sunday.

The son gets up, he wants to go to the café.
So get dressed, he spends time combing his hair.
Listen to the rain pattering on the skylights.
Make a cup of coffee as he searches for his shoes.
Drink the cup as he puts them on.

Go down the stairs into the hall.
And out into the rain.

In it's way the rain is refreshing.
The bakery shop has few people in it, they are all complaining of the weather.

There is nothing wrong with the weather. It is raining. It is Sunday. Everything is normal.

After the coffee and cake, go back home, write these notes, read the news, and think about another cup of coffee.

doldrums

The cat sits on a cardboard box on the sill of the right hand window of the living room. She looks out of the window, and makes small groaning noises, comments on the situation outside the window maybe, maybe she is just dreaming to herself.
The son is in his room, simultaneously tidying things up, learning Latin vocabulary and cleaning up his room all simultaneously.
Not efficient, but at least something moves.

And his father is sitting there at the table with his laptop.
How degenerate, how uncultivated.

Reading about American plutocracy, one of the most powerful countries in the world being turned into a private business. And the parts of the United Kingdom behaving like the universe at large with respect to the European Union. Constant expansion, and the distance between all the parts constantly increasing.
How strange.

It is Saturday, the day off work.
And now the son is making a cup of coffee for the wife.

duck and drake

Friday, 8th March, 2019

at the town gate, see Dolores approaching. she is walking down the side road, the road where

the town's wall used to be. She will visit the

bakery shop at the corner. Later, at the bus

stop, or from the bus stop, watch her approach.

Suddenly, a duck and a drake waddle across the road to her, both moving at maximum duck ground speed. Dolores is feeding the ducks, they are probably hungry.

They follow her all the way up to the bus stop.

Wish her a good morning. Her knee is bandaged, she says that it is her meniscus. She has a very pronounced limp.

A man arrives on crutches. It is the day

of the impaired today, by all appearances. The taxi driver teacher man arrives, he has neither a limp nor crutches.

The bus arrives, and stops. The middle door opens and a woman steps out, mis- fudging the distance to the ground. she almost falls, and staggers across the pavement.

Pay the bus driver. Watch Dolores stagger to her seat. She gets up early, carefully moving from grip to grips. She has a medical support on her right tag, a thing to keep her knee in order.

At the railway station, say' good morning to the smoker. The man with the pigtail.

invisible birds singing

Thursday, 7Th March 2019

The cat, attentive. comes into the bedroom, pushes it's head against bare legs hanging over the edge of the bed. Then she walks on and nuzzles the furniture. Then she returns, and nuzzles the meanwhile covered leg  again.

All the time purring. Then she reaches up and puts her two forepaws on the top of the thigh her claws finding purchase in the black cloth. It is good that the denim cloth is heavy, or the treatment would be most painful.
Go out to the small cabinet in the hall, there is the plastic jar with antibiotic cream for the nose. Spread a pea-sized lump of this

over the nose, a thin film to fight the bacteria that keep on recurring, causing rosaceae. The

cream helps the trouble down.

Leave the house, the weather is warm. It is not light yet, the alley is a sinister place, lit by lantern shaped electric lamps. The place has an atmosphere of quaintness as a result, the sort of thing that tourists like.

But there is almost nobody there,

Two people hurrying somewhere, otherwise just wide open dimly lit spaces.

But st the bus stop there is birdsong.

invisible birds singing.

m. I did!. e-la g i. n. ^. ~.

"try us out"

the little black car is there where it was left, by the back entrance to the police station, right beside the parking space for handicapped drivers. Open the lid at the back of the vehicle, put the bag in. Then get in, start the engine, turn on the lights and drive. The car has a tight turning  circle, useful in the small streets.
It had been raining, and the car was out on the street all the time. There is no good reception on the radio, just spluttering sound. The radio has an awkward interface, it is distracting and over complicated. There is endless information on things that are not now required, and the only transmitters coming in clearly are the popular stations with wailing singers bemoaning the destitute state of their personal affairs, their disappointment with the treatment that they have received from those whose attention they desire, it is all one desolate egocentric wailing. Then there is a commentator who starts extolling programs that function as partner exchanges, it all seems to just be the oldest business in the world.
Turn the radio off, concentrate on the traffic, try to keep a constant speed over the motorway, let the others do the racing.
The little car has a grumbly diesel engine, but it runs. A tiny two seater car, stuck between to heavy Czech trucks on the motorway, an advertisment on the back of the truck showing a picture of a grinning young woman  with the text "try us out" in five languages. What is to be tested is not specified, but presumably the carriage service is what is meant.
Arrive at the university complex, find a parking space between two SUV cars, get out of the car, taking care to turn off the lights, get the bag out of the bag  and go to the physics building. There is a worker just coming out, wish him a good morning.

Travelling by car is not as social as travelling by train.

blue bin day, shrove Tuesday.

dead silence outside, why? A German holiday, a Tuesday, the shops are open, but nobody is working.
Shrove Tuesday, a day of madness in big towns, costumed people dancing and hopping about in the streets.

Get up, get dressed for the day, there was a showerbath last night so why repeat it in the morning?
Take the little computer to the table, make a cup of coffee, feed the cat, read the news.
The wife and the son are fast asleep, the son groans and rolls over, but there is no further sign of life.

Sit at the table, bare foot, drink coffee, read the news.
Sneeze.
The cat mewls. Is she saying "Gesundheit"?
Does she see this as a form of communication?

It is peaceful, nothing but the ticking of clocks.
There is the sound of an engine outside, and a loud banging noise.
It is a dumpster, to collecting waste paper.
Today is a blue bin day, despite the holiday.

Rund down the stairs in slippers, hastily put on.
Open the door, take out the blue bin,
just in time for the man from the truck, the waste paper firm.
After the bin has been emptied into the huge machine, shaken to dislodge the last bit of paper there,

Take the bin back in, and find my way up the stair

And return to the computer, a third cup of coffee.

late, like now

a Monday  away from work,accrued overtime must be dissipated.
awake to the alarm clock, it was not told that it need not sound today. The clock is only an app on a tablet anyhow.

Get up and make coffee, the son is up and about, he wants to go to the café. He loves going to the café.
Perhaps it is because of the coca cola drink, or the strange cakes. Sting of a bee, imagine that!

walking through the town afterwards, see that he has a limp, and then hear that he wants to go home again.

So go home, and do some work about the house, and before realising this, it is four.
It is now four in the afternoon, the floor in a room freshly sanded and a slit in the wall made for an electric wire.

It is four now, much too late for these notes.
oh well.
better late than not at all

pet the pet cat

start the day, a rythmic coughing noise from the kitchen.
It is dark, the noise is clearly audible in the quiet of the early morning.
It stops with loud gurgle and then another cough.


The cat has just regurgigated something somewhere in the kitchen.
It is dark, the bed is warm, the aches and pains in the legs and the back are being cared for.

and the day is starting badly.
Close the eyes and try to sleep on a bit. There is the thought of feline vomit on the floor, then the wife starts to snore.

Then there is the sound of the cat, complaining at the closed door, she wants to be let out. Consider this a threat, get up and let the cat out into the corridor, into the cold grey light of the beginning dawn.
The cat makes a short noise, much like a sort of "thank you".

Get up, and there it is in the kitchen, on the floor, the mess who's creation was reported on earlier.
Get a paper towel wipe it up.
Then wash that bit of floor.
job done.
ugh.

Go for a shower, the warm water loosens the stiffness in the back, this is good.
Think about the Portuguese lessons, a computer is a poor partner for a language made for humans.
Still it is better than nothing.

The cat is on the covered chair by the telephone.
Stretches, she holds out her head to be petted.

uncultivated

it is probably a sign of age, the activities of Wednesday exacting their revenge on Friday and the body demanding a long sleep on Saturday.
Over twelve hours of work on Wednesday, following happy sceintists about their work at a small congress, all happily rubbing each others backs when face to face and looking at each others results with enthusiasm, jealousy, sometimes admiration, perhaps some other emotions too. And just to take pictures to make the occasion memorable is so much work.

And the on this morning there are the friends of the son scattered all over the living room floor after their party the night before, sleeping in their sleeping bags, the computers still running, humming ventilators for chips that  have been warmed.

No showering today, keep the bathrooms free for all the young men who will awaken at some unannounced time soon, and need to use the ceramic facilities with great urgency. They were playing computer games for a large part of the night, this is a modern day party. A get together of school friends.

Get dressed, a cup of coffee and a slice of cold pizza for breakfast. The cat gets a pat on the head, She looks up, then closes her eyes, purrs. She seems to like a pat on the head.

And at the third cup of coffee, a sense of humanity returns to the body and the head.
The mirror shows an unshaven tousle haired man, but human, even if uncultivated.

Bast scho

up
up, check the time
five
first of March
first, set the watch
Date

Friday March first two thousand and nineteen

Silence the tablet
Brush the teeth
put clothes on
ready for the day

down the stairs
hear the rain drip on the skylight
wet cobbles glistening
reflection of a lantern in a pudddle framed by cobbles


hair is soaked wet by the time the bus shelter is entered
Good morning to Dolores

The bus ride, rush from the tyres in the wet, the window all steamed up

Smoker on the steps under the station's concrete awning, studying his mobile 'phone.


Coffee from the friendly girl, her name is Andrea, small dark haired black rimmed cool glasses, big friendly face.
The big bald man with the wild red beard is serving too, belly pushing out his yellow tee shirt.


The train is full today, there are many holiday makers.

The ticket collector looks at the face and say

Bastscho.

Ok

An expression of assent and agreement from nether Bavaria.