Thank you!

 Screaming and shouting in the distance inside this large house, it is a dream or is it not? A female voice yelling that "you will wake up anyway, you do not need to run the alarms". The voices are indistinct, the higher one is shouting in rage the deeper one sounds conciliatory.  These are sounds out of the murky darkness enclosing the barely conscious mind.

Full consciousness and the realisation that first light is available arrives as the alarm on the phone starts the seaside melody. Understanding of the situation floods in and dissolves the tenacious murk about the mind, get up and turn off the jingle. The sound was low, enough to wake but not to disturb the surroundings.

Get up, and wonder if it would be opportune now to go downstairs to make breakfast and use the bathroom. Nature herself puts an end to these deliberations, go downstairs to the bathroom. All is silent but for the disconsolate cat.

She is hungry, despite her meanwhile massive overweight. There are two open tins on the counter, the one is filled with the strong smell of older cat food and a small residue, the other is three quarter full. Put a spoonful from the full one onto the cat's plate and rinse out the other one before throwing it into the yellow plastic bag reserved for packaging waste. The cat eats. Make breakfast, after clearing away the used crockery and cutlery left over from some late night meal.

Take the finished breakfast upstairs.

Move the laptop to one side and put down the plate and the cup, before opening this computer.

Eat breakfast, read the Times digest, the Handelsblatt headers and look around for other news.

Open this blog

write the notes up to now

then check for visitors

There are three visits from the United States and one each from Russia and the Netherlands.

Thank you!

no need, just beauty

 The small desk and the window reminds of the house in Ireland, with the small room with the view up to Three Rock Mountain. There is no view of the mountain, it is all just the situation and a trick of the light. This is not a problem.

Look outside, it is snowing onto the German roofs, a flurry of big snowflakes caught between changes in the weather. It is chilly outside, and the snowflakes on the roof opposite take a long time to melt away. But there are not enough of them, and the weather returns to its old misery.

There is a kind message from the parcel service that the parcel with the old camera will be arriving tomorrow and will require a signature. This is exciting news. This is another one of those cameras that are so completely manual, they will practically never die, at least they will survive for a long time. It is a camera of German manufacture, built in the days when that meant more than just a name stamped onto a metal casing. It is just the thought of a pleasant toy. There is no real reason to take pictures on film any more. There is no reason but for the thought of independence from the domineering arrogance of electronics devised in some agency somewhere in the world, telling you what you are to like and need. The  camera will be here tomorrow, then it will be possible to see if the fifty year old item functions.

The part for the washing machine has not arrived, the industrial action of the services union is delaying things. This is just too bad,it will be necessary to delay the washing of the clothes by another day.

Go to the shops to buy eggs and bread and milk and joghurt, cheese and sausage.

The diet is leaving things to be desired, it is becoming one sided. It is becoming too much like not enough daily vegetables. This will have to change. It will be necessary to have an own kitchen again.

And after returning from the shops, the cold and the shakes and the tiredness start again.

no need for more

In the afternoon take the car for a spin, it is uncomfortable and cold outside. The outside temperature indicator in the car says that it is zero degrees centigrade. The air is damp and chilly. With the installation of the new battery the car starts well,  but there is no real assurance that it will continue to work for a long time. With luck it will hold for another five years before further major maintenance is due,

Leave the town, admire the rainswept landscape of Niedebayern,  all the farmhouses caught in the dreary weather, the grey sky and the dreary wet landscape. There are boy racers on the roads today, in a hurry for nothing else but the sake and the thrill of driving fast. Let them pass, they may pay their own fines.

Pass the reactor which is busily steaming away to itself. It will finally be turned off in a few months time, it is now steaming its last breath. There is political activity to keep it going, but the general idea seems to be that it will be shut down. It is a large structure, with an enormous grey cooling tower.

Drive on, more or less aimlessly. At a town called Niederviehbach cross the river and head on. Stop at a petrol station to fill the car's tank, and have a cup of coffee and a doughnut.

On the return stretch take the motorway. Decide on an impulse to test the mechanics work and put the foot down so that the accelerator is depressed all the way.

The car reaches a speed of two hundred and ten kilometres an hour, and that is enough, decide not to test any further even though it appears to be possible to go even faster. That speed is high enough, there is no need for more.

Slow down to a civilised pace, and watch the fuel consumption indicator drop,

pleasant

 The day started well, wake up pain free, go downstairs to have a shower. It is cold outside, and so what. The first thing is to put shaving soap onto the hairs growing out of the face and the neck. It is so cold that the shaving soap will not foam as it usually does. This does not really matter, the razor is sharp enough to deal with it. Shave carefully, trying really hard to be systematic about it. First the neck, the left side in regular upward strokes starting in the middle, and then the right hand side also starting in the middle. And so forth, area for area and piece by piece. It is all done without injury. Wash the soap off under the shower.

The only upsetting thing is that the left arm of the pyjamas gets soaked somehow, probably during the shaving. Roll it up so that it is not cold and unpleasant. And then go into the kitchen and make breakfast. The son returned from his excursion to Tegernsee during the night, and he made himself something to eat in the kitchen as is apparent from the utensils lying all over the place. 

Later in the morning  a good offer for an old camera becomes available. It is a luxury, but without further ado take the offer. The chances are that this model will hold its value well, better than one of the modern cameras. This is the way things go. It is something to look forward to.

An hour later, the son comes up. It is difficult getting used to him wearing a skirt, but if this makes him feel good then there is nothing really to be said against it. Nothing to be said against it at all. He talks about the difficulties that he is having in his job. He understands the necessities of making an application to the university. We talk and it is pleasant.

Nibble

 Spent all day working on the pictures taken on the day before yesterday. There are few nice ones, but a few nice ones are better than no nice ones at all. They are a reminder of how good the band was, The sick feeling has gone, there is no knowing what that really was. Still, it is better to stay at home and 

relax

and just work on the pictures.

There is a request from the band for the pictures, well, why not- just send them over, they may have a use for them.

In the evening, go forth to the shops.

Buy a bag of peaunts, in their shells. That is something to mibble, something to nibble at while working on the computer.

another forgotten day

 the 26th all day all ill shivering cold

clean forgot about the blag

clean forgot almost everything

was quite not keen at all to continue with this life.

and it was bitterly uncomfortable.

But the concert on the night of the twentyfifth was good, it was in a pub and it was impossible to drink and it was hard to eat.

But the music was good

flatten and de-crease

 It is strange that waking up is so difficult in this cold weather. Leaving bed should be more difficult, but the cold is not so bad. It is, after all, not freezing. That is something.

The morning things such as making breakfast and reading the news are all done, so go downstairs and fetch the ironing board and the clothes iron. There is a large stack of washed shirts folded on top of the dresser, it is time that they were flattened and decreased. This means crease removal and not reducing the amount or the size of the shirts.

First, the inside of the collar, pressed flat.

Then, spread the yoke out and press that, taking care to flatten all the seams.

Then the cuff of the right arm, and then the arm. Turn the arm over to smooth the other side as well.

Then the same to the left arm, with its attendant cuff. Then the front left, the side of the torso and the rear. Take care not to iron too much of the central crease on the back part of the shirt.

Then carry on until the buttons are there, work a way around every button.

Then hang the shirt.

Continue until there are nineteen metal hangers on the knobs of the dresser.

Atogetther, four hours of work.

And the shirts need to be folded yet.

And then go home again.

 Buy a film for the camera that arrived in the post this morning. The camera is over eighty years old, and for that it is in splendid condition. It is too cold now to go about taking pictures. The price of films in the shop is shocking, and the price that they would like to receive for developing films is worse still.

It is freezing outside, even though the snow has melted it is cold, everybody is wearing padded clothing on the street except for a plump young woman with a bare midriff showing off her navel deep in its recess in the centre of her tummy. Walk down the main street to the little bakery with the funny café. This place has been discovered by a group of Ukrainians. They hang about there drinking coffee and trying to learn German. They all talk in Ukrainian about their German exercises.

The bread roll is strangely tough today.

Go to the supermarket and buy apples and a loaf of bread.

And then go home again.

plum puddings and things

 The bed is not made yet but the breakfast has been eaten, the coffee has not been taken yet. It is late again, after the late night reading yesterday. All of this should not get to be a habit. The wife is up earlier today, but she will not speak a word.

Be silent too, and think that it always takes two before complaining. The situation is nearly a complete disaster though.

Write these notes, they have turned into the post breakfast notes now. The three pills have been taken, the two against the blood pressure and the other which is just an extract from plants that the doctor recommended.

The bed will have to be made and today may as well be the day to take a walk in the snow. Winter has arrived late this year, but now it is hear with the attendant Cold and Discomfort, the two sorry characters that attend the pictures of fluffy snow and holly and plum puddings and things.

after the bed has been made,

 Sunday, a day for late risers, last night was the night for exhibitions and then a tour of Landshut's localities. This was all easy, in easy walking distance of home.

The head ached badly in the morning, and stay in bed until the pain dies. Think about the inability to do this sort of thing more often as the body gets older. It is all fun, but unhealthy. Breakfast is late, a happy blending of midday meal at awakening and the prospect of no further eating until evening.

People seem happy about the pictures in the little books and that is satisfying. There may be more things to do in future, maybe even work for the theatre. Positive promises are better than simple rebuttals or complex maybes.

There are people visible on the height of the bluffs today. They are walking among the trees in the snow, they are visible as tiny silhouettes as they stride along in their black coats.

The midday breakfast has been taken, now it is time for a shower after the bed has been made,

Here we are, one day late

 It was the twentieth of the month last when the journey to the exhibition was started, and that journey ended now, on the twenty-first .

That is the story, the show was a sensitive mass of pictures of the local environment.

It was, and is, a good show.

A show by somebody who is not local to the area

A Spaniard, a man with quite some sensitivity who knows how to deal with the camera and the locality. 

that is it

yesterdays post is today, for the people met at the exhibition coloured the rest of the evening and stole the time needed to write this blog post in the time in which it should have been written.

Here we are, one day late

within next week

 Sleep is better in cold air that is richer in oxygen. It was a good idea to turn off the heater before sleeping last night, sleep was longer and deeper. That was pleasant. It is pleasant to have breakfast at nine in the morning, all alone but for the company of the hungry cat. She will not eat oxidised cat food, even the smell starts her backing away. Throw yesterdays excess cat food down the loo, and give her a few spoonfuls of fresh stuff. That leaves the cat happy.

Take the coffee and the breakfast upstairs, and enjoy them both whilst reading the news from the computer.

It is all strangely unsatisfying now that the weather has gone cold, there is so little initiative to do any thing. 

The fresh battery arrives for the digital Hasselblad back, charge for an hour and then test it as per instructions. It works fine, it is just the way it should be.

The film is finally ready at the chemists. It took three weeks to do, and the results are simply wrong. It was developed in the wrong way, and the results are horrible. Complain. and the money is returned. This will not do.

Still, it is possible to see from even these results that there has been no error in the camera, there is no light leaking, everything is fine.

After a visit to the café and a chat with the Egyptian waiter, return home and pack the camera. Print a label, stick it onto the parcel and put it in the post. It should be in Ireland, back with its owners, within next week.

It was a good one.

 Today, a day of weakness and despair.

No, it really was not that bad, tdhat business with the weakness was true enough. Despair is normal.

Slept just a little bit late, that was in order, had breakfast, that was better and then collapsed for the rest of the morning until ten.

This is no way to go. this is not the way that one would dream of things ending. But then who can tell whether that wherewith dreams are made of will serve as the substance of reality.

Reality is a nasty person, she really is.

The day was spent realising the functionality of a printer, a machine to realise the pictures taken every day as final works on paper and not seen through a distorting window on a sophisticated machine. Just on paper, the way they are meant to be.

Till now, the evening has been spent in the pub, watching the sparkling life of those that have no idea of the foul things that they are moving towards. They make a good soup in the pub, today they only sold one of them. It was a good one.

To hell with it, nobody is going to look at the pictures anyhow.

Get up early and go to the barber, be there at eight thirty. That is the time for the appointment, and they are all ready to let loose. The hair is washed, that is the second time today. First under the shower, now at the barbers, washed in both locations, the hair should be really clean now. The snips and the cuts, the small razors and all is done perfectly. Leave the barber's shop and go to the chemist. The pills are there today, collect them and walk on to the mall to see if the pictures are now available in the photographic store. 

There are no pictures there, it is too bad.

Walk down the escalator to the supermarket and buy a few things to eat, things like apples and bread. 

At home again, check the mail. The troublesome man is the only one who insists on a different picture. There are very few cures for vanity. He has caused the press department to supply him with all the alternative pictures and has selected a picture of himself with no real background. That is the one which he wants. All other pictures are pictures of persons in their work surroundings and he wants just a picture of himself.

Yesterday, the answer was no , and that is why he suggests a different picture today.

Well, so what is to be done?

To hell with it, nobody is going to look at the pictures anyhow.

it is for the seventeentb

 The seventeenth of Janualry was forgotten.

It was just left out, no writing, and therefore no account.

There is so little being done these days, this is the first day that the wife has gone. She has gone because the husband has not lived up to her expectations. Perhaps that was not it, but there is no help for it. She will be back to look for compensation for the years of her life or something. Perhaps this is fair. perhaps not.

The day was spent trying to tidy things, and going out and making appointments with the doctor, and a visit to the pharmacy. And an appointment at the barbers, the first one this year. 

There were attempts made to clean things, but that will take months. 

It was a day spent doing little.

It is time for change.

it is nearly half past one in the morning.

Hope that this is correct.

 Three eggs and a couple of slices of toast and some butter make up the cholesterol-rich breakfast. The toast is that cheap brown toast which is difficult to toast, it is always either underdone or burnt. Its aggregate condition changes suddenly.  But it is cheap, and that is why it gets bought notwithstanding its low quality. Take the breakfast upstairs, and read the news.

And then write a long reply to the request to change a picture in the book which has not yet been printed. It is necessary to find clear reasons for turning down a reasonable request. This is not easy, powerful people take such refusals personally. Writing that short email takes a long time, nearly one hour. Once it has been sent, telephone the assistant there and attempt to clarify the position. She says that this should be no problem.

Hope that this is correct.

Walk through town today, test whether or not the recovery from the recent illness is progressing successfully.

Hope and Fear

 No rest for the wicked, and no succour for the sick. These are sayings, but the flu has not gone yet. In the morning things are fine and healthy, shower and shave, and then afterwards the weak feeling in the limbs and the reel between all those sensory organs in the head, those sight and sound and smell and the inside ones that speak of balance. The nose has stopped running, now it just drips a bit.

Lie down feel better and get up again, start trying to clean up the living space. There is no chance. The dysfunction of the sensory organs and a feeling of icy cold prevent all of this.

This is too bad

The hearing has gone for detailed sounds, there is a constant hiss.

This is a waste of time.

Sit down, read a book and take it easy.

Hope that the strength will return.

Fear that it will not.

proud of having spent their lives

 The sickness and the cold remain, still, on the positive side of things, there is no hangover. It is just the snivels. The kitchen has been cleaned for the first time in a long time. Make breakfast and go back upstairs into the warm little room. The heater heats the room quite happily now that the walls have warmed, the whole situation is easier for the small machine to manage. Also, the atmosphere in theh room is more pleasant now.

But the cold and the snivels are horrible, a small dizziness and pressure in the temples. It is hard to know whether or not this is an aftermath of the anti-covid booster shot or some other thing.

The lithium-ion battery for the camera has arrived, but unfortunately it is the wrong type. It does not fit. This will mean extra work on Monday attempting to return it. Returning it should be no problem, it is just a troublesome thing that is not necessary.

Go out at midday to meet up for the social gathering in the pub. Two cups of coffee, listen to all the old people go on. Be one of them, even though they were all born here and are proud of having spent their lives here.

invitation at the end of last year

Feel unwell because of a hangover and have a pain in the upper right arm, an afterthought from the covid immunisation shot administered yesterday afternoon. But the hangover is unnecessary, it was just stupid self indulgence, no more.

Get up late and make breakfast, the wife is awake, it is hard to concentrate on anything. Take the breakfast upstairs, read the news, get dressed. And all the time an unpleasant ice cold feeling of being unwell. 

There is a message that the awaited parcel is under way. Go downstairs, and wait for the mail in the street. Take a short walk, for the mail is always late. Whilst walking there is a message on the mobile telephone that informs that the package has been delivered.

At home, it is already there on the stairs. Along with an advertising letter trying to sell accident insurance.

Leaf through one copy of the book, it seems to be in order. It is only thought of as a small thank you for the invitation at the end of last year.

The pain in the arm increases.

Lie down on the bed and sleep for a while.

The small heater in the room is whirring away industriously, but the temperature is never hot enough to trip the thermostat. The room is just too badly insulated.

In the evening the pain in the arm is gone, and the hangover has diminished.

Anti covid injections and beer do not go well together.

At a quarter to six the thermostat on the heater trips and the heater is silent.

return home

 Upon returning from the doctor, and a breakfast sandwich in Weixerau, sort out the things needed for the next adventure. Change the clothing, take a shower, then go to town. Now the second iteration of the pictures of the mosaic needs to be printed. The printing shop is getting familiar, and the procedure is now faster. It is only a small part of a larger store, a store that sells almost everything.

Afterwards, a telephone call and a new appointment with the young woman who wanted the pictures. Take a cup of coffee in a local café first.

In this café there is a small group of Ukrainians, busy learning German, and seemingly making good progress. They are all seated around one table, discussing their notes.

Later on, during the delivery of the photos, realise how much the young woman smokes. There is a thick atmosphere of cigarette smoke in her flat. She seems content with the pictures.

But she smokes too much.

Then go to the mall, to the other photo print shop. Search through the returned orders, but those pictures taken two weeks ago are not there. Ask for help, and the woman searches in much the same way. Decide to come back another day, perhaps they will be there tomorrow.

After shopping in the downstairs supermarket, return home.

a day of small things

 Now that it is late this day of small actions will clearly come to an end in inaction. The postman came late, and there were tax bills to pay and accountants fees to settle. This was done, and the short walk about town was taken. It was all no trouble, but the black misery in the mind never really went away.

The pictures of the mosaics were reviewed, and an hour spent restoring them all yet again. This will have to be taken care of tomorrow, after the doctor's appointment in the morning. Things are not very easy at the moment. The firms are all restarting their work at this time, it is all slow. 

The daily roll with the meat loaf, another one of those things.

The day is a waste, it is a day of small things,

The heater that has been repaired is no more than a noisy nuisance, all the advanced electronics and remote controls do not help that.

sandwich and coffee

 There it is again, the sound of the alarm in the corner of the room, the mobile telephone playing the seaside melody. It is puncual, it is seven in the morning. Go downstairs and take a shower, wash the remaining residues of the smoke from last night out of the clothing. It was difficult, having spent time in a smokers flat, all the clothing had to go into the wash.  Having given up smoking all those years ago there is a horror of the thought and the bare smell of it.

It was a chaotic evening.

And now there is not much time left to hurry off to the doctor's practice, all of ten kilometres away. Drive there in the car, take it easy.

Forget to bring a mask, and the woman at the reception supplies one

Then wait in the waiting room, wait to be called up. A young woman calls and follow her into the small laboratory. Sit down as directed, roll up the sleeve and allow s quick pin prick. Look down to watch the deep dark red blood flow into a test tube, and then a second test tube. Now all is done.

Take a sandwich and a cup of coffee at a roadside café.

Now there is time to carry on with the rest of the day.

parasites

 The morning is as always now a silent disaster, the cat was locked out into the hallways of the big house and the poor animal feels the cold despite its thick fur and this is a self pitying rant.

The heater was off for this night, but sleep was no better, it was not nicer. And then the morning was chilly.

Downstairs, there are the sounds of the sons preparations, either for work or for calling in sick. This is not a situation that is to be dealt with now, not in the current condition. The son may need help, and help cannot be given to the needy by the needy. So upstairs and wait.

There is a telephone call from the camera shop. They wish to report the estimate for the cleaning and the readjustment of the camera. The estimate is about fifty per cent of what had been expected, so that is good news. The camera will be finished in a few weeks.

Later, downstairs and make the important breakfast. There is hardly any crockery left, it has all been used and no person seems to wish to even start the dishwasher. There is a rotted jar of pickled apples on the counter, who knows what that is good for.

Cleaning up for the rest of the family is no longer an option. Not today, today things will be pushed aside, instead of using a flat plate for breakfast use a more depressed one. The toast and eggs and coffee are great, and that is the main thing now.

Take the used crockery down and place it into the dishwasher. There is very little stuff there, it must be spread around the flat somewhere, somebody else's affair.

Then look at the computer, and this device gives information that the postman is at the door. Go downstairs and see that a parcel has arrived which needs to be signed for. Sign for it, and take the monthly journal as well. There is a picture of a louse on it and underneath the announcement in German that we need our parasites for our well-being. Do not think about this for long.

Leave the journal on the table and take the package upstairs, it contains a viewing screen for a camera.

Test it straight away on the old hasselblad, and it works, and is better than the old one.

doze

 There was no movement today, there was no wish to leave the room. What would be the point of going anywhere on this day in the cold discomfort? The day itself is not cold, it has three degrees centigrade. It is just grey and miserable. There was a telephone call to return to the brother this morning, the sound was most unsatisfactory. He seems well enough, having recovered from his cold, which had been troubling him.

A short visit to the son, he is seated in his room. He will not communicate at all, this is hurtful, but it is one of those things that will have to be endured. But he seems in good health. The wife has left the house without a single word today. The cat, as always, permitted feeding.

The small garret room is constantly losing heat, and the tiny convection heater is constantly trying to catch up. It keeps switching on and off again as the finely tuned thermostat senses the rise and the sudden fall in temperature.

Sleep on the carefully made up bed all day. There are plenty of cures for depression, lying fully dressed on a bed and dozing the day to death is unlikely to be one of them

Personal Sense of Order

 The morning is warm again, remembering the icy mornings years ago leaves worry as to what is happening to the climate. It is all as if this is surprising. People are not prepared, and others are always to blame. The calculations do not cut the cheddar, or any other class of cheese. People always know, and the individual is never at fault. Only afterwards the stories are rife over what should have been done, and it is all definitely clear that what could have been done was not done. Money alone will not solve the problems, even though money may well have been their cause.

Shower and make breakfast, work around other peoples ordures to serve those personal needs. There are dirty pans on the cooker, move them aside. Leave them there, they are not a personal affair. The mess belongs to others, the family.

Make a little breakfast for the cat too.

Take it all upstairs, where there will be no fear of disturbance. It is colder there, there is nothing but a small electric heater, but that is secondary. Principally it is just peace and quiet, and a personal sense of order.

backlit skeleton

 The night turned warm, and in the morning the heater may be turned off. The temperature inside is not overly warm, but it is very warm for the time of year. Perhaps the sense of warmth is still in the walls of the small bedroom.

Make the bed, ensuring that the covers are tight and smooth. There is some satisfaction to be had from leaving things in this way, and finding them just so later on. It is as if there had been a good fairy, even though it was just oneself. Such are the joys of self-deception.

Breakfast preparation amid the disaster area left by the son or the wife or both last night. The cat comes in requiring attention and feeding. The cat food is actually tidied away in the refrigerator, this is surprising. And then the toast is made, the eggs are boiled and the coffee has burbled in the silver pot. Upstairs with the lot! Breakfast looking out on the balcony!

Up on the ridge there is a solitary person walking, the moving outline visible between the backlit skeletons of the leafless trees.

The bells of Saint Martins church are ringing for the Epiphany.

it is ten fifty now

neither liver nor cheese

 The mail that came today was an envelope of eighty pictures, the raw material for a book, a book of thanks for a party on the eve of the new year. The party was interesting, there was music with people playing jazzy blues. The pictures are too many, there are only twenty six needed for the pages of a book. Four more would cost more, and it is a useful exercise in selecting the most suitable pictures.

Spread the pictures out on the table, sorted by time. Pick out the less good ones from every sequence, then rearrange the remainder in groups according to subject. Pick out the poorer ones here as well. Now there are only thirty two pictures, sort these chronologically, and that will do.

Go over this selection on the computer, checking the brightness and so forth, and render them all into a file.

Now the work can start to make a book out of them.

Take a walk down to the photo store today to see if the pictures have been returned. They are not back from the lab yet, maybe on Saturday. 

Return home, after having a roll with warm meat loaf at a stand in the mall. This is quite tasty when there is hunger. It is a fatty Bavarian speciality known as "Leberkäs". The brown thing has nothing to do with neither liver nor cheese.

tomorrow

 The man with the parcels came at just a quarter to twelve, as predicted by the message on the computer. There was the large flat package containing the print for the brother, specially ordered for him. And then there is a package from Ebay containing a few small bits for a gadget that has not arrived yet. It has to do with an old fashioned way of working , they are parts of a light meter.

Open the package with the print, taking care to it in such a way that the packing material can be re-used, for after the inspection it will be sent straight on to Dublin. Who knows what he will do with it, but he did ask for a print.

Repack the picture, write a note to go with it, seal the whole lot with tape and go downstairs. The distance to the post office is not great, and in twenty minutes the package is on its way. 

Then collect the package of drugs from the pharmacy, they are expensive, and let us hope that they will work towards alleviating the suffering involved in getting older. If they rely on belief and faith in their efficacy then this is a waste of money. There is no faith or belief in such things any more. 

The most important thing is to go to the shops and get some eggs and bread for breakfast tomorrow.

brakes

 Arrive at the doctor's today, and discover a note on the door. She has moved once more. Put the new adress into the phone and attach the 'phone to the mount on the car. It is only a few miles further on, let us see if this is going to work, and see whether or not the appointment time can be held.

It worked, and the prescriptions were written and the advice given. Now drive to the car servicing place, for even after their expensive repairs the handbrake is not good any more.

The boss comes out and tries the brake, he sees that it does not work. Make out an appontment to be back at two.

And drive home.

Take a short, rest, walk about town and leave again.

The mechanic wishes to replace parts, the owner rings up to ask how much the parts will cost.

The owner comes out and they oil the cables free of charge.

In the afternoon buy the prescriptions before four, it will be necessary to buy a  a large package of something that will probably not work well. Just for the sake of trying it and seeing if it works or not.

Winter time and the days are short

And now at sixteen seconds after sixteen sixteen the last bell sounds.

 The second day of the year starts silently, it is a working day for most people and the small town is empty.

After a fight with the wife over the timing of the preparation of the annual heating bill wonder about how long this marriage will last. It has lasted twenty-two years now, that is probably more than half of it's duration. Being called an idiot and an arsehole is unpleasant, it would be wrong to reply using the same language. But this is probably not what the genteel reader wants to read.

Are you a genteel reader?

No matter worth thinking about, it does not matter at all. Tak e a walk around town, take a cup of coffee in the bakery. The coffee is watered down, it is too much and too weak.

The bells are tolling again without end, it is as if they had started  using the twenty four hour clock to operate the tolling mechanism. Still, it is only sixteen hours now, that is four in the afternoon, and those bells have been tolling constantly now, at least fifty times.

And now at sixteen seconds after sixteen sixteen the last bell sounds.

Why, were they having a game?

a short beginning to 23

Last nights party is today's work,  it was hard to get out of bed and it is no easier to stay out of bed. Ita was a good party with nice music, some of it professional and some less so. 

The pictures are a little dissapointing, there is a general feeling of slackness about them. It was less of a challenbe than the pictures taken by candlelight on Christmas Day.

There is the sound of explosions outside, people are disposing of their leftover fireworks illegally, but nonetheless efficiently. The use of fireworks in the town is illegal now, but people seem to have a hard time getting rid of their old habits. 

Turn on the radio, and to the beat of Cajun dance music start work through a set of pictures of the  last nights blues musicians and their guests.