there is the forest hiding behind the trees

 - up early, get dressed make coffee and then the drive has gone. Just like  – THAT –  the head is spinning again, there is no drive to do anything. See that there is a letter from the brother in the mail, but why should that be cared about now. The wife is snoring, the son is not making a sound. In the sitting room lie down on the couch, it is silent there, even the cat is not purring.

Cover the head- and sleep.

It is hard to tell what is wrong with a running system from inside this running system, but this may be a bout of depression

maintenance.

 Wet and cold as it is there is no wish to go for a walk alone, still, something must be done so put on some warm clothing and something against the wet and walk off down the street. Decide to check upon the car, to see if it is parked correctly inside the white box marked on the pavement. When parking the car it had been snowing, and the white markings were then invisible. The car is parked thirty centimetres too far forward, the right hand wheel is on the pedestrian part of the pavement. So get into the car and roll it back those few centimetres. Who knows, perhaps they would have given a fine for improper parking.

When inside the car start to clear up the mess a bit. There is an attachment for holding a mobile 'phone, so that if may be comfortably used as a navigation assistant. This attachment is still in the original packaging. Remove the plastic presentation bubble and take out the little bracket, a sort of ball and socket arrangement with a magnetic pad on the ball part and a self adhesive pad on the socket end. Also, there is a cleaning pad in a sachet. Attach the mobile to the device and decide on the best place to fix it. Perhaps just to the right of the steering wheel, where it may be seen without taking the eyes off the road to much. Also, the distance to the cigarette lighter socket is not too great. Wipe the area down with the alcohol pad and take the backing off the sticky end of the holding device. Stick it down, now it holds as if it were going to hold for ever.

Then find the green papers of the car in the space underneath the ashtray. Start to read them, then realise that these are for the old car, the one no longer driving. It has the same licence plates.

The correct papers are in a flap beside the vanity mirror on the drivers side.

Reading these realise that the car will have to go for inspection next year.

And it has started to rain heavily.

go back home.

too simple to be true

 an Ibu four hundred, perhaps that will take care of the headache. Something really must be done about the rooms upstairs, the slits for the cables need filling, the prospective bathroom needs to be fixed  and all the stray rubble should be tidied away.

Go upstairs, and turn on the gas heater, fill a two litre beaker with water and put it into the trough used for mixing mortar. Add about a third of a sack of mortar and mix it with the electric mortar mixer. The damp mortar smells vaguely of oil. It was a very cheap mortar- and every month it is different. The only thing that remains the same is the price.

The mortar mix is to dry. Add a bit of water and spray the areas to be filled with martar wet with the rest.

Throw the mortar into the slit with the electric wire. A satisfying "splat" noise, and the slit is filled, More splats, the slit is full.

Fill the other holes, then realise that the headache and the whistle in the head is gone. Think that it must be the work.

Three hours later,back down in the flat, change into the normal clothes. The hiss in the head is back, destroying concentration, just an irritation.

On the table, there are the pills.

realise that the headache has stayed away, but the hissing is back.

Does Ibuprofen block the hissing in the head?

how would it do that, it is too simple.

grey trench coat

 A cloth bag by Aldi in the pocket of the grey trench coat, the mobile 'phone in the righthand inside pocket of the jacket, go down the stairs and leave the house slamming the rickety old door to. The light is still on at the accountant's, even though it is bright daylight now, 

And the rain is pouring down, making the pale grey of the trench coat turn a darker shade of grey. There is no hat, the rain will keep the hair down, the white hair that has been growing steadily since the lockdown made barbers inaccessible.

The street that is normally full of people shopping and socialising is sparsely populated now, the people all with masks and some with umbrellas. It is raining strongly and steadily, the sky is grey and so is the street. Today's errand is to collect a prescription from the urologist, a telephone call in the morning had arranged this and the doctor's assistant would have had the prescription signed and ready for collection some time ago. The practice belonging to the Iranian doctor is on the second floor of the building, and the waiting room is full of patients. The woman at the desk gives instructions as to how to use the card reader, and then hands over the slip of paper, the required prescription.

The rain is heavier now, and it is cold. It has washed away the snow, all but for a few soggy heaps at the side of the road. Go on down to the  basement supermarket in the shopping mall, and buy bread, and pretzels. Wander about and buy a bar of chocolate too. And then, just as an afterthought, buy a single small salami. Stand in line at the till, carefully keeping distance from the persons ahead. The four items all paid for with the credit card, transferred from the plastic shopping basket into the cloth bag, and it is time to go again. There are few people in the supermarket, all a sign of the pandemic.

The apothecary in the shopping mall has a queue in front of it, do not care to wait. There is an older woman at the glass door confused by the fact that she has to pull to open it. The rotating glass doors beside the small door have been locked due to the pandemic. The  big sliding doors at the main entrance further on open upon being approached, silent and perfectly as always.

Walk back home in the rain, wearing the meanwhile all dark grey trench coat.

4 small snowmen

 The park is covered by a thick layer of whiter snow, brilliant white, a blue sky over it all, the paths are all white. It is like a christmas carol, a month late. But is is all very pretty.

The deer are hiding in the thickets, there colouring is effective camouflage. Take a picture of them, is that not a stupid thing to do, taking pictures of Bambis. A picture of the snow covered town through the trees. Behave like a tourist.

Near the castle, there is a place to view the old town from. There is a wall.

On top of the wall somebody has made four tiny little snowmen. They are just standing there

wth-yes!

 breaking sleep the gentle strumming of some recording, time to get up, time to turn off the alarm on the tablet. The shower had taken place yesterday, so today all that needs to be done is put some cold water in the face to wake it up. and some on the head to flatten the hair down. The hair is going wild, like thistledown, or bog cotton. But there are no barbers any more, they are all locked down.  First, to the kitchen and turn on the coffee machine so that it may warm up. Check that there is enough water in it too, there is not, so take an empty soda bottle and fill that under the tap and pour it into the coffee machine. That is the easy way to fill it, rather than disconnecting the pipes and removing the tank.

Go to the bathroom, wash the face.

Return to the bedroom, put on the clothes that had been laid out yesterday.

Then the kitchen. Now the son's alarm sounds, and then shuts up. He is awake. Grind the coffee, fill the sieve. Make a cup.

Back in the bedroom strap the band of the device for measuring blood pressure around the wrist. Press the button, the device groans, pressure increases around the wrist. A short break, the device groans again. Then a long wait. Then two beeps. Copy the two values to the notepad, for the doctor. Those values are too high, that is not healthy.

The son comes in, asks whether another coffee would be in order. Think about, oh what the hell. yes.

rhea

 the wrought iron gate at the top of the stairs marks the border between the damp noisy squalor of the slushy town to the pristine white ground of the parks paths. They climb all the way up the bluffs on this side of the river, between the tall trees.
The trees are all bare, they are all deciduous trees here. Their grey trunks have a clear contrast to the white snow, and the falling snowflakes lend the park a grainy structure. Take the path up to the devil's bridge, nobody has been this way since the snow started. There are no footsteps.
Climb the path carefully, there is icy stuff under the snow. Just before reaching the wooden structure of the bridge, a movement lower down the slopes. There are deer between the trees down there, two of them. They slowly go about their business, maybe looking for things to feed on in the snow.
Later, at the top of the bluff, watch the rhea birds in their fenced off area. The large flightless birds have gathered under one of the few evergreens, taking shelter from the snow. One of the flock walks over, curious and hopeful of being fed. It reaches through the fence and nibbles at the shoulder bag containing the camera. Reach over the fence, maybe  it likes to have it's head scratched. It nibbles at the sleeve of the jacket.
Wander on around the park, enjoying the fresh air and the fresh snow. It is almost windstill and the snow is pouring out of the sky in big slow flakes.

Rhea and fence 25 jan 2021

clown's nose

the son leads the way to the park, to the scene of the demonstration. The sound of the speakers is to be heard from quite a distance, seeing that the demonstration is to take place in the park down by the river. There is a strange stage with coloured lights and a man talking there. It is cold, windy and it is snowing. The man has a captive audience of his followers and five small busloads of police.

Civil liberties are what they demand and restriction caused by the governmental attempts to contain the virus is what they are complaining about. It is a strange feeling to be facing people who believe that they have the right to spread what is a deadly disease.

Perhaps more than just a little bit selfish.

Take a picture of the stage, and a man approaches, he wishes to prevent pictures being taken . He is wearing a black mask. He is also wearing a ludicrous red nose. A nose made of plastic. A clown's nose. He raises his hands to form a heart shape in front of his face. This is the symbol that the Ukrainian protesters used. He is standing really close now. His eyes are narrowed, he is feeling agressive.

But things were different there, and they remain different. There in the Ukraine.

Take a picture of his hands, with the red nose showing through. Then walk back home with the son. It is too cold to watch these people, the demonstration is breaking up anyhow.

horrid

 the day does not start well
barefoot in the kitchen, in itself not bad
stepping into the result of the cat being ill in the night is bad
Wash the feet
wipe it up
wash the floor, just locally
that's it 
Where is the cat, anyhow
Start the machine for the coffee
the cat nuzzles for attention
and food, likely to replace the loss.

it is all so disgusting
the day will probably continue badly

old fashioned way

 the tiredness starts as soon as sleep has past, that is early today, in the dark of six in the morning, the cold tiles underfoot. The tiredness gets worse a mind deadening lethargy. It would be nice to get up and go and do all those things that had been planned. But why bother even putting on day clothes?

Things have to go on. So measure the blood pressure and take the pills as the doctor had ordered. Make a cup of coffee and wake up the son, tell him that this was necessary because it was his request the day before. 

Drink the coffee, and put on the day clothes. In times of lockdown things do not matter much, and appearances are unimportant, work on two days weekly, Tuesday and Wednesday.

Friday now, and still get up, and wake the son again now, ready to make a second cup of coffee. This is probably good for the high blood pressure and thereby bad for the heart.

The son comes out and thanks for having been wakened. He actually does have work to do.

Read the newspapers. 

Check to see if the place of work needs anything. It does not.  Start to work out the bill of costs for this year, work out the tenants share, check the utility bills. Then go down to the accountants office, chat with her, ask her whether or not everything is in order or not, and open the metal flap on the service door. Read the meters for the heating use, and for the water use. Take note of these using the mobile 'phone's camera, and go back upstairs.

At this point realise that the little camera did not take a good picture of the dial, it is illegible. Go back down with a torch, a notebook, a pencil and a pair of reading glasses.

The old fashioned way.

online morning

 awake agape late, light in the window, it is eight
strange  thoughts, a long night, a film on television
the son storms into the bedroom, enraged, furious, he had overslept his appointed class half an hour ago.
Rage and fury, the wife goes out to console him, but why did he not set his alarm clocks?
as he does every day-
he is angry and blames not himself but his parents, and it is his own failure.
think of the alarm clocks sounding early in the past and realise that he is angry at his father for not having made those usual early morning noises grinding coffee, and the break from the routine.
Depending on how the matter is viewed, it is the fathers fault.
No, it is not.
Yes it is.
no
yo!


Fall back to sleep amid the sound of an online discussion from the son's room.

minus four

 press the button to open the doorsnothing happens
press the button to close the doors
clack
press the button to open the doors
clack
try the door
resistance
Try the rear door
resistance
try the tailgate
that opens. put the bag into the car, and wonder what is wrong.
The door on the right hand side opens too, the back door. The front door opens, but it is a tight squeeze to get in. Lean over and open the front right door. It is really stiff. Go to the left hand side of the car, the one with the door just opened, and turn on the engine. The display shows all the usual coloured lights, and a warning with a snowflake symbol and lettering saying minus four degrees centigrade. The doors were simply frozen.

But the engine starts, and this will be the last day this week, because of the virus. The glasses are all fogged, it is actually chilly. 

Remember to drive carefully

progress

The rubbish bins are out today, out in the street awaiting collection. That will be later on in the day. Perhaps at eleven. Go down the alley to the police station, but turn right before reaching it. The car is parked there. It is not covered in snow, there is just some at the junction betweeen the windscreen and the bonnet. Unlock the car, open the door and get the orange plastic scraper and remove the ice and snow from the windscreen wipers.

Leave the town, drive slowly in the heavy traffic. It is fifty kilometres to work, thirty of these on the Autobahn and the rest on those trunk roads. Drive carefully, the car is not equipped with snow tyres. This is not really legal, but for those few days of cold weather that climate change has left us with it is hardly worth it.

Arriving at work it is properly light, the radio says that it is ten past eight in the morning. The parking space is snowbound, take care not to brake suddenly.

The pendulum in the entrance hall has stopped.

The university is silent compared to the usual activity

In the office there is a small box on the table, there is a note on it. Read the note, it is a device from the boss, to copy all the data from the last three years. All the pictures, all need to be copied. Three years ago, no device this small would have held them all.

That is progress

green telephone

 The old dial up telephone in the hallway is ringing, and it is eight in the morning. Still in bed, listen to the imperative clamour of the mechanical bell in the green plastic enclosure. Get up, stand barefoot on the cold flagstones of the hallway and pick up the receiver. 

"Good Morning"
It is some young voice saying his name indistinctly and asking for the son.
"just a moment"

go into the sons room, see that he has just awakened, and tell him of his phone call. He mumbles something and makes his way to the telephone in the hallway. Hear him talking to his friend, think that that is the only way to reach him when the computers are switched off and the pandemic is making its way across the continent. The mutating virus travelling in waves. The British mutation of the Wuhan virus, the bug that has calmed half of Europe.

After the son has finished his telephone call go into the bathroom and shave. The bathroom is uncomfortably cold, the plastic clogs prevent direct contact between the bare feet and the cold tiled floor. The plastic head holding the razor blades breaks off as it is being led over the face, feel the nick as it cuts the skin. Replace the head with a new one, and the smooth action of those new sharp blades is a delight.

Afterwards, return to the bedroom, then go to the kitchen, hug the son who has the misfortune to be just there at that point in time and make a cup of coffee.

echo in an empty pipe

 The cat makes noises in the dark, purring, groaning, meow type noises, not noisy, just regularly every few seconds. Get up in the dark, walk over to where the door is known to be, reach down to where the cat probably is. A hard fur-covered skull confirms feline prescence, open the door. The dim light from the status LEDs on the sons small server computers shows the cat standing there in the doorway. She makes more sounds, maybe trying to coax some human company. Turn on the hallway lights. The cat looks up, both eyes almost closed in dazzlement. She makes another sound.
The flagstones are cold, step back into the bedroom and close the door. Hear the cat flap flop, as the cat gives up the idea of human company and goes about her business on the balcony.

It is dark, it is cold, and it is Sunday. 
go back to bed.

On the next awakening see that it is just light. Clean and fill the espresso machine in the kitchen, get a white cup from the cupboard in the hall, wait until the green light has gone out and press the button. With a hum and then a sudden release of pressure the machine pumps hot coffee into the cold cup. 

 The cat has returned. It wants
cat food.
There is a tin in the fridge. Feed the cat by putting a dollop of the stuff onto her plate.She eats noisily, with a great smacking of lips.

Take the coffee into the bedroom, start the computer and read the day's news. Then put on the clothes and go into the sitting room. It is desolate, and in its usual state of squalid mess. Lie down on the couch, the hissing in the head rises, there are other tones there now too A rumble, like an echo in an empty pipe. Cover up with a blanket and try to go to sleep.

Succeed.

And when awake again, see that the rest of the family are awake too.

mortar

 The old trousers do not fit any more, they are ten years old and the body has grown fatter. They are old trousers for working only now, threadbare and full of holes. Still, it will be important to lose wait.

The threads holding the button break , and the button flies under the bed. Never mind, put on a belt. An old pullover too, and now be ready to go upstairs . Take the one flight and turn on the gas heater by turning on the tap on the top of the bottle and applying a lighter to the gas jet. There is no point in freezing.

The level of water in the bucket is just too low. Take it downstairs, fill it at the bath tap. Take the full bucket upstairs into the room that will be the upstairs bathroom. Using the two litre plastic measuring jug fill six litres of water into the ninety litre black plastic mixing basin. Lug the forty kilo sack of mortar over to the basin, tear the top away from the paper sack. Pour the full sack of dry dusty mortar into the basin. Then take the electric mortar mixer and start to mix the water with the pale grey dust. Mix for a while, and then test the quality of the dark grey mortar. It is not wet enough. Add another three hundred millilitres of water, it is about right now.

Then finish filling the hole in the wall that had been left there by the building workers all those years ago. They had knocked a ragged slit into the old brick wall to accommodate some piping and electric cables. They had not closed the hole, just leaving it open. So that now it is left to the amateurs.

Using old bricks carefully chipped to size, and plenty of mortar fill up the slit behind the bricks, fill the crack from the bottom to the top. Simply said, that was the work of the full afternoon today.

The morning was spent mainly asleep.

Photographers should not do building work.

engaged

 find the number of the building suppliers on the computer

, make the call. The telephone is engaged.

, make the call. The telephone is engaged.

, make the call. The telephone is engaged.

, make the call. The telephone is engaged.

, make the call. The telephone is not engaged.

Ask whether it is possible to buy things as a private person despite the pandemic. The friendly woman says it is, and asks for what goods are required. She says that she will make a connection to the people in the plaster and wall dressing section.

the telephone makes a ring tone again.

rings for seventeen minutes.

Hang up.

Call again.

The same woman on the line again, explain the problem.

She  says that she will make the connection to the people in the plaster and wall dressing section. 

Tell her that that will not do, they do not answer the phone. The reply is "Oh". She says that she will try something else. Thank her.
Listen to her conversation with the people in the plaster and wall dressing section. Then she says that she will make the connection.

the telephone makes a ring tone again.

Full on apprehension, this is telephone terror.
Then a male voice answers.

Explain that five bags of mortar are needed. Yes, the cheap variety. Give the name, the telephone number, and ask when the stuff may be collected.

At once.

That is the good news.

Shopping in a pandemic.

pseudo narcoleptic

 on the return to the bedroom  make a cup of coffee in the kitchen. Return to the bedroom, place the cup beside the little laptop computer and read the news. The illiterate in chief has been told off again. Corona infections in Germany are worse than ever. The cat wants to be petted. 

Then, without any warning, the legs feel cold and the eyes grow heavy. This is not an effect of coffee, that would be much too paradoxical to be true. It is just a sudden attack of sleepiness.

Turn the light out and get back into bed, feel the welcome warmth of the duvet on the legs.

And then it is light and bright, the wife is up and about, the cat is on the window ledge over the radiator and opens a lazy right eye to look. Raise the arm, look at the watch. It is half past ten. Four hours later, and the bed is still warm and comfortable.

What is to be done but to get up, make another cup of coffee and see what needs to be done today.

ten yellow towels

a dark morning, like yesterday, and the same as tomorrow will be. Up and go to the bathroom, the same procedure as yesterday, and then brush the teeth, just like yesterday. The feet are cold in this poorly insulated bathroom, the floor thinly covers the arch below. The cold feet are encased in socks on the return to the bedroom. Underwear from the wardrobe like every day, the rest of the clothes from the back of the chair. Put the clothes on to the background sounds of the wife's snores and the cat's purring. Then to the kitchen,  make a sparse breakfast with a big cup of espresso coffee. A slice of the brown german farmers bread and butter too.

The morning is still dark, read the news. The don thing in the united States of America seems to be recovering from his failed bid for absolute power, spouting threats again. He has lost some of his voice, cannot twitter any more. Now there will be more time for the rest of the world on the news. 

Spend time wondering if the virus will strike this family, there is no safe harbour. It is nothing to worry about for there is no difference to be made.

The snoring is louder now, move into the living room and sit on the couch. Ruminate on thoughts like some graminivore on its favourite food.

Much later, the doorbell downstairs rings.

Ten new yellow towels have arrived.

frozen O and snow

 The car is covered in about fifteen centimetres of hoary snow, coarse and icy. Put the computer belonging to the institutes in the back along with the camera bag. Slam the rear flap down hard, the snow falls off the back window at least. 
Then fiddle on the woolly gloves and take the worst of the snow of the bonnet of the car, and then remove the frozen stuff from the windscreen.;
And finally, scrape the remaining snow from the roof of the car.;
Good.;
Inside, start the engine, the car jerks forward. Take it out of gear, and the engine starts properly. No problems because of the cold. Do a three point turn, a police car stops and waits. They are not in a hurry. ;
Twenty minutes later watch the snow blow horizontally from left to right, the Autobahn is clear of snow, still, drive slowly.;
Back to work today, for no reason other than a bosses whim. And it is not nice to drive in the snow. And know that there will be no work to do, other than to do a mug shot of the boss for his passport and to have a long discussion about the necessity of servers in IT systems.;

That is how it was, and in the evening do not know what to do.

tap

 awake at six, fresh clothing, hear the sons alarms. There is nothing further to do, read news, make a cup of coffee.

Then there is that strange knock on the head, a short loss of concentration, blankness, catch the body before it falls. The eyes and ears function again, there is throbbing and hissing in the head. Is this a matter for a doctor, or was last night just too late? What to tell the doctor anyway?

Sit down, and fall nearly fall asleep.

Write an email, call in sick. There is no way that a car can be driven in this condition. Lie down on the couch in the sitting room, cover up with the available blanket.

Two hours later the son is there with a cup of coffee, concerned.

There is no saying what is wrong, except maybe being up too late at night.

Resolve to stay inside all day, be boring, hope that all this will just go away.

green and red

 On a tarred patch on the main street of Landshut a solitary snowman. The tarred patch marks the area where there had been road works in the summer, and they had not bothered to replace the cobbles. The black tarmac contrasts with the white snow. The snowman has a scarf, and his eyes are the red caps from soft drink botttles.

He looks cheerful, for a snowman. He has a mouth covering, a sign of the time

Take a picture of the snowman, two views. There is a cake shop in the background, it has it's lights on. Perhaps it counts as an essential service. There is a woman working inside.

Wander on down the main street with the son, down to the end. The sun has sunk now, and the street is deserted. We walk back up the street, looking into all the illuminated shop windows on the way.

There is the snowman, somebody has knocked off the head.

We both restore it, but the head is misshapen now, and the one red eye has vanished in the street somewhere. There is a green bottle cap lying around, however.

Leave the re-headed snowman in the increasing cold, now with one green and one red eye.

wipe

It is one of those tasselled mops, dip it into the soap-charged water, squeeze it in the plastic sieve, give it a twirl and let it drop on the floor. The tassels are all spread out, the whole thing is a bit like an octopus on a stick with a surfeit of tentacles.. Push it back and forth on the dusty floorboards, then take  it out, agitate it in the water, squeeze it in the plastic sieve, give it a twirl and let it drop on the floor. 

Push it back and forth on the wet floorboards, see the wood shine through now. It is cleaner, the ingrained dust from all the work last week has been taken up by the tassels. Or fibrous cloth fronds. Or whatever you may like to call the things. Go over the whole floor on the covered balcony of the second floor, and then start on the steps.

The mop is useful for cleaning the vertical face of the steps, without bending down. Then go over the flat surface, worn by all the feet stepping there. Then the next step, and so on until the first floor laning is reached. Do the landing too. At this stage the water is so dirty that it all turns into a matter of just spreading the dirt around. So go into the bathroom and tip the black brew into the loo. Fill the bucket again, put in a squirt of wood soap, and finish the landing.

Then start on the long stair, all the way down to the entrance passageway.

Altogether, an hours work.

Oh

 the son awakes later on in the day, later and later every day. It is past midday, he is sitting on the chair in his hopelessly untidy room looking at the monitor of his computer. This is his only contact with friends these days, with everyone having to keep social contacts to a minimum. He does not really sit upon his favourite chair, he has his feet up on it and squats. With his bowed back in this position he looks like some wingless bird of prey.

Remind him that he should be thinking of tidying up his room. He does not approve of the reminder, starts to raise his voice in true teenager fashion. Inform him that while he was sleeping his old wardrobe had been repaired. He says 

"Oh"

normal

 snow light, early light, all together falls in throught the window. The wife is asleep. Yesterdays dust is still in the hair, a silly tacky feeling. There is a cats call somewhere in the house, get up and open the door. The cat is not there. In the bathroom, shave. It is already eight in the morning.

The razor is blunt, it will need replacing. Next time maybe. The bathroom is cold. Turn on the shower, and enjoy the warm spray of water, rinse the dust and dirt from th head. This should have been done yesterday.
The same clothing as yesterday. Except for the underwear of course. Change that, and the socks too.
The wife is asleep.
Read the news, a mob considers itself a democratic institution, disgust all round, four dead, and the rest gone free.
The son comes in, and asks in a whisper whether or not it is really the wife's birthday today. 

Confirm.
He goes again.
Then he returns and asks whether or not a cup of coffee would be nice. Agree,
He makes one for the wife too, and leaves it besitde the bed. 

The wife wakes.

Say "happy Birthday"

scrape

 push the long-handled scraper against the wall, the top layer of paint is scraped off. Again, a bit higher. The same top layer comes down, displaying a lime rendering that may be well over two hundred years old.  Keep scraping, and piece for piece the wall is freed from chalk paint and some probably quite modern dispersion paints, It is strenuous work, dusty too. Sometimes areas of old paintwork come down quite easily, but the smaller areas that are difficult are just frustrating

At the edge of the doorframe see that this had been installed quite late, the plaster just breaks away revealing the wooden laths holding the frame. This will need to be covered over with the new render. It should not be a problem, but it most probably will be.

Go to the next wall, start scraping. With a noise and a cloud of dust a large area of paint and filler breaks away from the wall.

that was easy.

This is silly work, but it is an old house that needs repairs.

The first person recorded as living here was a jeweller.

He was called Lobelin.

It was 1516 A.D.

catwind

 The cat is in a sociable mood, and jumps from the window onto the writers knees.

She puts her head down, lets the boney crown be sctatched.

she purrs happily raises her backside, passes wind.

continue writing.

the cat is on the other side of the room wondering how she got there.

not

 not

not again, up, sense the cat in the dark of the living room, a black movement in the dim morning light. The cat is well, the sound heard earlier was of no account. It had sounded like a cat complaining, but the cat is here and the cat is well.

Not again, feeling unwell, maybe an early cup of coffee, coffee again, would help. A slice of toast. Take the whole lot back to the bedroom, see what news there is. Ding dong king don, ready to go ding donk. The corona virus is on it's world wide rampage, they will never make enough vaccines at this rate. Take the computer to the living room table, the cat nuzzles the leg.

then return to the bedroom, put on the day clothes.

Then back into the sitting room. Lie down on the couch for a second, then drag over a blanket. 

Three hours later

not

not again, slept like a log, on the couch, away from the bedroom.

why?

a waste of time, not sleeping at night.

twice

 raise the three sheets of transparent corrugated plastic that cover the wire grid over the stairway to the cellar. Place them carefully to one side against the neighbours wall. Then lift the wire grid and lean it against the wall of the house. The steps are made of bricks, they are all damp and mossy. It must be rising damp, there has been no rain falling on them for some time now. There is a switch on the wall to the left, turn the lights on in the cellar.

This is an old cellar, it must be over three hundred years old. The ceiling is low. There are plastic building materials, buckets and basins, stored here. Anything else would rust or rot. Walk into the middle room, and then into the front room, the one facing the street. Turn on the light here, and cross the empty room. At the end, there are the pipes and the meters for the gas and for the water. Take a picture of the display on the first one with the mobile 'phone, and the other one too, for good measure. Then, over on the left there is the small dial of the water meter with its plastic cover. Remove that too, take a picture.

Then walk back through the cellar rooms, turn off the light in the last room, then turn off the light by the stairs. Replace the grid, and the plastic covering to prevent the rain falling into the stairwell.

Go upstairs to the computer, and link up to the municipal utilities department. Type in the codes on their reminder to read the meters, and look at the first picture on the mobile . Copy the data from the picture to the form on the computer. The picture of the water meter did not work out, it is completely illegible.

Go back downstairs and raise the three sheets of transparent corrugated plastic that cover the wire grid over the stairway to the cellar. Place them carefully to one side against the neighbours wall. Then lift the wire grid and lean it against the wall of the house. The steps are made of bricks, they are all damp and mossy. It must be rising damp, there has been no rain falling on them for some time now. There is a switch on the wall to the left, turn the lights on in the cellar.

This is an old cellar, it must be over three hundred years old. The ceiling is low. There are plastic building materials, buckets and basins, stored here. Anything else would rust or rot. Walk into the middle room, and then into the front room, the one facing the street. Turn on the light here, and cross the empty room. At the end, there are the pipes and the meters for the gas and for the water.

take another picture of the  water meter.

Then walk back through the cellar rooms, turn off the light in the last room, then turn off the light by the stairs. Replace the grid, and the plastic covering to prevent the rain falling into the stairwell.

Go upstairs to the computer, and link up to the municipal utilities department.

Enter the codes, fill in the form from the new, crystal-clear picture, and the job is done, the municipal services people have the data to write their bill with.

Another chore done, and fury at the wasted time doing things twice.

boots

 hurry past the church, a woman approaches her glasses fogged up because of the mask that she is wearing. She is wearing a hat and a scarf, and  a mask and is peering through he greyed-out glasses. The gate to the main street is open, it used to be closed at night to keep the pub goers out. They used to foul the graveyard before the gate was installed. Now, in the pandemic, they probably do not bother to lock the gate at night any more.

Through the arches, all the closed shops there. The fancy restaurant is trying to make a living selling pizzas to take away, but this will hardly do. Ahead, there is the post office, the yellow logo with the black hunting horn symbol upon it. A pleasant surprise, there is no queue inside. Walk all the way down the long  hall to the counters at the end,  and give the letter to the man there behind the counter. He looks at it, turns it over and reads the back. Hand over the small plastic identification card, he glances at it, excuses himself, and goes into the store behind the counter. He returns with a plastic bag with labels stuck upon it. He scans the label, scans the original paper and then asks for thirteen euros.

Pay. Say goodbye and leave with the plastic bag containing a pair of shoes.

The shoes had been ordered upon a whim four months ago.

Two letters to the seller. Two replies.

At home, take the boots out of their plastic bag, they smell strongly of low-grade plastic. The soles have a rose embossed on the underside, they smell of petrochemicals. The boots are flimsy and light, the leather work is poorly done, the stitching unsteady, the glue showing at the junction between leather and plastic like a slug trail.

They are really light quality.

Try one on. It fits like a glove and is really comfortable. It makes the monstrous foot look neat and trim.

It is a shame that the manufacturing quality is so poor.

one one twenty one

 it is dark,
the shape of the window is blurred
the eyes will not focus
there is a blurry haze.
it is not quite dark outside, the haze is lighter at the window
therefore
light must be coming from somewhere.
Blink
The struts of the window frame are clearly visible now

Get up,
hook both legs under the edge of the bed, pull up vertical, sitting on the edge of the bed.
As every day, the journey across the cold flagstones and the ice-cold tiles in the bathroom.
The bright light is nasty.
The new year has not brought any change, the back is sore.
And afterwards, wash the hands, brush the teeth.

This year, same shit as every year.
in the bedroom again
put on last years clothes,
in the hallway put on the plastic clogs
climb the stairs
look at the work finished last night by the light of a LED floodlamp.
in the dim daylight the work looks good, the wall is uniformly and evenly plastered, the finishing coat succeeded.
Clean up the mess on the floor, push the fallen dirt into a heap.
Use a shovel tolift the fallen plaster and other dirt into a ten litre bucket. Tidy the tools.
Look at the work with approval again.
Go downstairs, feel that the year has not started in such a shitty way after all.