will not talk

Forcing things is not the way to go, it is only the way to go mad and become stressful. Arrive at the post office early, only to find a long queue in front of the locked grating. Look at the clocke, look at the length of the line of people and resolve to go shopping first. 

Walk all the way through town, dropping the envelope off at home on the way. It contains profile sheets, there is no need to get the item un-necessarily creased.

tAt the shop, the staff are all working hard registering the products in the shelves. Buy some apples again, two packages of butter and four containers of yoghurt. And then take the walk home. Meet the bricklaying mosaic artist on the way, she is working on a building site where an old house is being renovated. Speak to her for two minutes, then go on.

At home, tidy up the room, and start to deal with the papers that need dealing with.

That is all done.

An invitation for an evening meal. Thank you, with pleasure.

And then the electrician arrives, and show him shamefully around the house. He examines many things that nobody asked him to examine and yet he still agrees to do the job. Take him out infor a cup of coffee, all is well.

He is a right - leaning thinker, and it is hard to bear his company for much of the time. His friends have all let him be, and hear that he is alone at work. Neither his colleagues nor his boss will talk to him.

chores

 On the roof opposite to the window there is what appears to be a sparrow with whiskers. Knowing that such configurations do not exist, look again. In fact, what appear to be whiskers are strands of nesting material that the bird is carrying in its beak. The birds are nesting under the eaves of that roof. The cat is on a rug in the room, languidly listening to rhe twittering of the tiny birds.

It is another sunny day. The weather appears to be turning hot again, after a slow start the summer is getting under way. It will be possible to turn off the heating later on today, and to leave it off until October.

The sons request to borrow the bicycle this morning was interesting enough. He had vowed to repair it after damaging it, but upon his procrastinating for weeks the repair was done in a local bicycle shop. As soon as his fathers bicycle is repaired he uses that instead of repairing his own. At the moment, it is important that he gets to work. The result of all of this is that his father now does not have a bicycle. This is not a major problem, most of the stores are to be reached on foot anyway.

The new paper arrived today, that will need to be tested, this is just another chore.

And the rooms need to be dusted too.

And there is another bicycle to repair.

pentecost

 Cat on the chair watching finches on the roof opposite which are busy setting up their nests. The finches are busy with pieces of grass and short lengths of twig that they have found. They know that the cat is there, in the window. They ignore her.

The cat is fascinated, this is probably instinctive, she is like a young man confronted with pornography for the first time. She watches with eyes wide open, and makes short excited sounds and her tail switches from side to side like mad. 

The madness is not so great that the cat will jump, this is the second floor. It would defeat the purpose if a predator suffered injury catching its prey. Therefore, the cat will take no risks.

Today is the end of the Pfingsten weekend and the sun is pouring its heat down over the town. It is not really warm yet, the temperatures will really climb next month and in the months after that.

as vain as a musician

 John's gig yesterday, yes, the one that should have been done by eleven but was not. The performance in the small Irish pub in the small village thirty kilometres outside Landshut started badly and ended nicely. By the time that the show had ended the staff of the establishment had unpacked their instruments and were playing as well. And they all played together nicely.

It was three in the morning when the lights at home were turned out, it was three this morning. The two musicians were left back home with their instruments and then a parking spot had to be found.

Awakening was later, for reasons as described above.

Work on fixing up the pictures taken during the night. As always, there will be injured vanities and many disappointing results. By the time the pictures can be printed it is the middle of the afternoon.

The neighbours children are noisy, and their grandfather is using his loud entertainer mode voice.

But the birds are all singing and cooing, and in the distance there is the sound of the calls of the peacocks. Perhaps the bird is as vain as a musician.

plans

 Three half litres of beer are one half litre too many. That is the status this morning and that is that, there will be no real change. Fear is setting in now because of the chain of medical appointments during the next two weeks. The breakfast is fine this morning, things are still in order and the day is fine.

Use the bicycle to drive to the hardware store in the industrial zone to buy a bicycle lock. Buy the very cheapest, for expensive locks will only attract thieves. Leave the hardware store and decide to return via the discount grocery store.

At the grocery store in the shopping mall attach the bicycle to a cycle stand with the new lock. Take the basket from the carrier and do the shopping, not buying very much because the weekend will be over on Tuesday anyway. On that day there will be a parcel with new paper in it to look forward too. Return home with the bicycle, driving slowly to avoid the pedestrians that are about everywhere in town today.

At home have the surprise pleasure of a long conversation with the son, about his past and his future. It is an unexpected pleasure, and all the nicer as a surprise.  Talk so long that the ice cream which needs to go into the refrigerator is forgotten.

Later, put the squishy icecream into the freezer, and hope that it remains edible.

There is a message from John on the phone', with the address of his evening concert today.

Maybe it would be good to go there.

crab

 an early start on an empty stomach. Today the day starts with a long drive to Regensburg to visit the klinik and to see the people who will conduct the operation. The journey is long, the navigation system dictates that there is to be a roundabout journey using smaller country roads to get there. The reason for this will become visible upon the return trip later in the day.

The hospital is a huge chaotic structure. It is hard to find the entrance, wonder who the architect behind this chaos was. Again, it was the navigation system which had led directly to a parking spot at the back of the building complex. This meant that the effective entry was via the tradesman's entrance, so as to speak.

Inside, all was sparkle and efficiency. Samples were given, forms were filled, more samples were taken. And then a short wait, and a conversation with a doctor. Suddenly, the ugly spectre of cancer is back in the  room, and an unwillingness to do the procedure without a confirmative test first. A talk and the decision is made.

A further examination will be necessary.

Go to the cafeteria in the clinic for a cup of coffee before entering upon the return journey. The motorway is being rebuilt, and the traffic is now forced to use tight lanes and is subject to a speed limit. The return journey actually takes longer than the exhausting journey over the tiny country roads in the morning did.

In Landshut, force an appointment with the urologist, he is wearing a mask as in covid times. He agrees to the examination and signs the order and makes an appointment. That went well and quickly. And at home again, telephone the clinic in Regensburg and tell them what has happened, and they advise on the further procedures. Now that has been dealt with.

Then walk through the sunny town and collect the bicycle from the repair shop, now perfectly in order with all its sprockets lubricated, the tyres inflated and the lights working again.

Finally take the car to the car shop, and explain that the oil warning lamp has gone on yet again. He checks and confirms that the oil is low. He then fills in nearly two litres of oil, and then that is fixed too. Returning from the workshop, decide to stop of at the airport and to watch the aeroplanes for a while. It is a small airport. And there is a small beer garden run by a Jugslavian couple.

Enjoy a light mid-afternoon meal. Relax and doze and watch the small private planes, the ultralights, the helicopters and the biplanes fly around, just for fun.

It is a relaxing early end to a challenging day of chaos. Watch the trainee helicopter pilot fly his machine sideways close over the ground, like an airborne crab.

Maybe they are just being pessimistic in the hospital.

concentrate on the days business

 In the bedroom of the small flat there is the open balcony door to the front, and an open window to the rear. Sun and birdong comes in through the front winow, the twittering of the small birds, the finches and sparrows, and through the rear window the sound of human voices and the persistent loud cooing of the pigeons. There is the sound of bells now from all sides. It is nine in the morning. The sound of the traffic caused by those on their way to work school and study has subsided. There is the distant hum of a woodworking tool and the sound of the horn of a distant emergency vehicle.

It is quiet and peaceful.

Think about what is to be done next. This is difficult, in these warm and pleasant surroundings. Think of the book the reading of which is nearing completion. This is a book that appears largely to deal with the situation of women in interpersonal, societal and sexual relations over the last one and a half centuries. It is well written and delivers insights that were not previously available. It is worth reading. It is not funny.

ISBN 978–3–8353–5403–6 for those who command the German language.

It is now time for this pensioner to get up and to concentrate on the days business.

Such as it is.

reading

 today is the day that boredom took over, announced yesterday, and in place today. It is just a sensation, there would be enough to do but no reason to do it. It is just a lazy Wednesday, a day spent rising early and then going back to bed, there not being any real reason to do anything. There are no real wishes there, and no sense of any great initiative either.

Spend the morning without talking to anybody apart from the strictly business contacts with various shop attendants. Buy a bag of apples, the variety is Braeburn and a corner of cheese. There really is no feeling of wanting to do anything. Drift around the small town, take the long path up by the river. Midday at home, install an electric light switch and two coat hangers. The one is on the back of the bedroom door, and the other is out on the balcony. The one on the balcony is to be able to hang clothing out to air. Feel guilty at having done so little during the day, apart from looking up the train timetable,

Thursday is the appointment for the meeting at the hospital, the procedure that is to be done will be explained, hopefully in some detail.

In the evening a long telephone call with a friend, she seems busy all of the time.

Then a long conversation with the woman in the gallery, she seems bored with the work there.

And then go home to continue reading the book that was started last Sunday.

boring

 The birds are twittering and that yesterday's noisy pigeon has gone elsewhere. There is a distant cooing but now there is predominantly twittering and whistling which is very much more pleasant. The flowers on the balcony have attracted a bee or some other buzzing insect.

The morning started grey, now it is sunny.

There are bells in the distance, three. It is a quarter to nine, three quarters of the hour. The neighbours cock is crowing, they keep hens. And there are people talking, and high up on the church there is the scream of a bird of prey. There are many birds about this summer.

It is also quiet and quite boring.

coo

The watch shows that it is three in the morning, the sky is lightening already. Sleepiness is the main feeling now, do not question the watch and what it displays. 

Downstairs, make the decision to go upstairs again, to lie down and sleep for another hour or more.

Awake to a cacophony of birdsong, there is one pigeon making repeated noises, perhaps these are loud coos, which are really annoying. For the pigeon is the loudest of them all, the remainder are just in the background. But they are lively and interesting in contrast to the pigeons boring coo.

The watch had become maladjusted, that is what had happened, It t must have stopped during yesterday at some stage. Perhaps during the time it was on the counter in the bathroom. This is too bad, and it is easily fixed.

In the course of the day the birds outside become quiter, and the maddening pigeon shuts up completely.

It will be time soon to take another walk, perhaps to visit the plant shop, to replace some of those plants on the balcony which have died during the winter. They had been bought as dried-out wrecks in the discount store, and they did not have the strength to survive the winter.

A day made of quiet and rest.

 All the windows are open and the door is open too, the first light and the first birdsong are moving through the bedroom and the flat with ease and comfort. It is all rough and pleasant. The only unpleasant thing is the bathroom that is one floor down, but you cannot have every luxury.

A stream of consciousness in the form of wild thoughts is the accompaniment to awakening in this atmosphere, it is great luck to be here. There is the sound of the early birds, and the knowlledge that there will be the buzzing of bees later on.

Downstairs, make breakfast, take it upstairs again. It being Sunday, there is not so much news on the computer, apparently not so much is happening. It is not possible, the world goes on turning regardless, and people do not stop getting up to mischief just because it is Sunday.

Stay lying on the made bed.

It is Sunday.

A day made of quiet and rest for those who can afford it and do not have the greediness to forbid it.

Stupid talk

 Open the door to the balcony, open the windows, hang out the coat to air, it is a lovely day. Make breakfast, oh what a dream it all is. And then, it all just blows away. The weather is still nice, there is a memory now of all the stuff down in the hallway that needs to be tidied. A friend of the son had for whatever reason had to leave home, and the hallway is full of her property packet into re-purposed rubbish bags. Take the car to the discount store, parking in the basement of the mall. Buy eight large cardboard boxes of the king that are used for removals when moving house. These are on special offer. Buy some eggs and some bread as well, and some apples too. Then drive back home and pack the plastic bags into the boxes and stack these. Now the stuff looks tidy, even if it is just a case of banning the mess into cardboard boxes. The items will probably remain in the hallway for quite some time. Apparently the young woman is looking for a home, and is being cared for by the town youth office. The son said that the things would be gone soon, but this is most likely just wishful thinking. The young woman is staying with a friend and the son had kindly offered to store her stuff for a few days. By the looks of things that could be a few weeks..

Later on, at the weekly meeting, they were all talking about health. Old people seem to love talking about their ailments and the medical methods used to deal with these. Letting the mind wander, allow the head to fall and go deep into thought. Hear the own name called, and the man at the other end of the table shouts that because of this cringing demeanour he assumed that the operation would be next week.

How did he know? He did not, he was just being funny. So agree, and mention that as a result of this urological operation there would be no problem hitting the high c.

This provoked laughs all round.

None of them new of the operation scheduled for the first of June, and none know now.

Stupid talk.

think

 For no apparent reason sleep was disturbed during the night, and slept longer as a result. There was no drinking the night before or anything like that to blame. It was just a matter of waking at three in the morning, turning on the light, and reading the frugal latest on the computer. In the morning, all is well, see that Amazon has abused its personnel to have that thing ordered yesterday delivered today. Some day they will invent something like preemptive ordering using artificial intelligence. This will then deliver things as you think about ordering them.

cats and doorhandles, grinning people staring

 The cat placed herself in front of the closed door and looked upwards at the handle. Her face is an isoceles, with the  two eyes and the mouth at the corners. At those corners with the eyes there are the ears, also directed towards the handle. The whiskers spread on either side of the snout, which contains the mouth. The eyes are large and focussed.

Open the door, she is out like a shot, like a stone in a catapult.

Cats are fast, even though they spend most of their time sleeping.

This fine day, Ascension day, is the day of that old photographers birthday in Munich. There is an invitation to go to the party, but is it worthwhile going there in the knowledge that he will spent all of the time talking about himself, his family, his opinions and his superior views on photography. This is all very well, but all that he does these days is make snapshots of grinning people staring at the camera.

Never

 This morning there is a problem with the freezing of the legs. They do not really freeze, they just start feelling uncomfortably cold. Covering them in an extra blanket helps, but still there is the feeling of an unnatural chill. Why this happens has never really been explained by the dear doctors. Perhaps it is some form of infection. Or else the circulation has gone to pot.

It was severe today, return to bed, and cover the legs with an extra blanket. Perhaps the cold is an illusion, but the blanket is moral support. As with Linus of Charilie Brown fame.

During today spend time in the building supplieers. Spend most of the time there searching for things, such as fittings for joining cables. Find them eventually in the motor department, not the electrical section. In the tools section ask a woman who is loading the shelves where such things are to be found. She says that they are upstairs in the electrical department. Go upstairs and ask there. She says that they are not there but in the tools department.

Leave the place, buy the cable shoes and two files. At the exit to the store find that they expect you to scan the items yourself, and pay by card. Do all of this, and then find that the store may not be left before the receipt has been shown at the door. The doors to freedom will not open until the docket has been scanned.

Resolve never to go to that shop again. The unfriendliness  of the security person was palpable.

absurd requests

The things that have to be done, are reduced to only one. Take the lock off the door, the one that always jams and needs to be slammed to work properly. Mark the latch with a scribing iron, and take the whole lot into the workshop. 

After fixing the vice and mounting it securely on the table put the latch between the jaws. Then take a file and file the latch down almost three and a half milimetres. This is hard work, because there are no good files available, the only one that is good is too narrow, it is designed for some other purpose. But after some time, and some foolish attempts with a grindstone, the latch is in its new shape.

The difficulties really start with the attempts to reassemble the lock and install it onto the door. A mistake made whilst reassembling the lock means that it needs to be taken down a second time. The lock, now assembled correctly, jams. The door will simply not open.

Take down the lock again, and try the assembly yet another time. This time it works. And the lock closes smoothly now.

Clear the tools away, and then return to the bedroom, take a short rest.

Perhaps a walk around town would be pleasant, but avoid the beggar. He has started to be greedy, and beggars should not be choosers. There is no way that this man should start to finger the clothing of his clients, and make absurd requests. The heavy rain makes walking unpleasant.

the past and the future

 Voting is one way to come to a decision, it is better than throwing dice. This town has dammed itself to further time as a nightmare of car drivers struggling to navigate their monstrous vehicles through the tight streets of a medieval town looking for parking spots or an easy exit from the urban congestion. This is their decision, much the same as the vehicles are their own major investment. Turkey has voted, and the Turks have another two weeks to make their minds up. Thailand has voted, and what will happen there is unclear too. Votes seem cast by people who appear certain as to what they do not want, but have no realistic vision for the future. The past must always carry the blame.

Awake to the sound of the rain today, and the cat that is hoping for an early breakfast. Remain in bed, for there is momentarily nothing to get up for. It was dark then, and it is light now. The old man in the mirror does not look well now that it is light, and breakfast has been made. The light outside is flat and grey.

Later today the artist who made the mosaic wants to be accompanied to her first showing of this work. It is some competition, and she attaches great importance to it. There will be a few pictures to take, and then that will be that, another Monday relegated to the past.

another Sunday morning

 Today is voting day, the day to vote for or against a pedestrian zone in the town. To vote for a second pedestrian zone. Many of the shopkeepers in the street do not want the new zoning, they believe that their customers only come to their shops because the streets are full of cars looking for parking spots. It is amusing to see that these commercial interests believe that anyone cares whether they or anyone else runs a shop there. The fact that the streets of the small town are filled with the cars of those that are too lazy to walk or who do not wish to use a bicycle.

It is a grey day, the weather is doing much as had been predicted by the weather forecast. There is nothing new here. There is just the sound of distant pigeons at five to seven in the morning. There is some subdued twittering going on as well, maybe finches or wrens or some such. There is the sound of an air rifle shot, and a pigeon fluttering in panic. Shooting in built up areas is not allowed. Not even air rifles are allowed, but it appears as if not everybody realises this.

The polling station will be open in an hour. That means that there will be another hours time from now, that will be time to make to get the day clothes on, to make the bed and to clear away the breakfast things. But enjoy the Sunday morning silence first.

gone out to shop, or something

 Awaken, then breakfast and shower. Between awakening and getting up the cat wandered into the bedroom and complained. Make a similar noise in return and the cat makes a noise again.Keep this up for a while. Then get up and go downstairs, as said, to make breakfast.

There is an unexpected card in the mailbox, that is pleasant. The parcels that had been expected did not arrive. That is just too bad.

Walk the few yards down the street to the Brazilian artist's studio to say hello. She is talking to two older women, so leave and go through the town, buy some soap and toothpicks in the drug store and two loaves of bread and some jogurt in the discount grocery store.

Then go home, then return to the studio and have a long chat with the artist.

Afterwards, visit the people in the gallery, and suddenly realise that the sound of more than four people talking simultaneously is disastrous with tinnitus. Also, the air in the small gallery turns stuffy very quickly. They all elect to go next door to the Italian place, and there the background noise level is high, diners talking to each other over the loud Italian pop music from the speakers. The tinnitus hiss sets in , it appears to want to be even louder. This is a disaster. Make excuses and go. It would be an agonising two hours otherwise. 

Things are quiet in the house, the wife has gone out to shop, or something.

Eight steps, and things are better.

 Return to the kitchen with the breakfast things, the kitchen is in a bad way. The son had baked a cake in the night, something vegan according to the recipe page left on the worktop. There are half emptied packs of ingredients  on the work surface, none of the mixing utensils have been packed away at all.

First, put the breakfast things into the dishwasher.

Second, find all the errant cutlery in the kitchen and put it into the machine as well.

Third, gather all the empty packages and dispose of them, not forgetting to chuck the empty jam jars as well.

Fourth. gather as many of the dirty pots and pans and things and pack them away into the dishwasher.

Fifth search the flat for further plates and things.

Seventh, start the dishwasher and sweep the crumbs off the worktop

Eighth sweep the floor and clean the sink

Eight steps, and things are better.

Ascensio Domini, one week to go.

 Look out, there is nothing to see but rain, wet roofs and wet trees in the haze of a wet distance.

It is a wet day. And it is the day that the dental checkup is due, so get up and go downstairs and make breakfast.  Wake the son, he is horrified because he is late yet again. It is seven thirty already.

Then spend some time cleaning the teeth, then have a shower.There is an hour to go before the appointment.

Check that there is nothing untoward on the mail. put on the blue raincoat and take the path through the graveyard behind the church. Hear a load voice shouting from the office at the top of the stairwell in the building. Climb the stairs and enter the reception office. There is a computer specialist there talking loudly at the people who work there. A young woman comes over and asks for the medical card. Give it to her and then go to the waiting room as directed. The man is quiet now, for whatever reason.

The treatment is as always, the teeth are cleaned, the dentist does her check with all the numbers, and that is that.

Outside again, it is still raining. In the graveyard, priests hustle between the trees in their long black gowns, some have black caps on. There must be some form of ceremony going on. Next week there is that church holiday "Ascensio Domini". Perhaps this is a preparation.

The trees and the other vegetation love the rain.

described using the same formulae.

 It is raining today, and the sound of the dripping water on the leaves of the trees outside is absolutely beautiful. The state of mind after the one and a half litres of beer yesterday is not so beautiful, despite that not being drinking on any grand scale. It is too much. Alcohol in the evening is bad for sleep.  But it does seem nice at the time of consumption.

The rain outside drips, there will be no need to water the plants downstairs today. Downstairs, the lights in the sitting room do not work any more, what happened there? Let those who are now using and destroying the place answer those questions. But wake up the son anyhow, just in case there were serious problems last night.

This is turning into a stream of unconsciousness, there are other ways to write. These ways of writing are for those who have studied language, for journalists too. Photographers take pictures, even though so many feel the necessity to write long explanations for their produce. As an example, hexametric caption of three lines length is surely simply a sign of insufficient ability to make a picture. Allusions to what the picture might have displayed allow the creator to elude the responsibility to inform the viewer and simply point out the failure of the work itself. It is wrong to say that the milk in a coffee cup is an interstellar galaxy, even if the pattern is similar and may be described using the same formulae.

The rain is still pouring down outside, the son is preparing for work.

It will be another quiet day

night

 the end of the day this tuesday

an end of this day spent in the pub

the day was spent wandering about town

a conversation with the son

many exchanges with the cat

they all know that something 
is not in order

the evening turns to night, it is a pleasant quiet night now.

Tuesday night, a musician and mathematician in one corner with his girlfriend in the corner, an Israeli artist of  some repute in another.

the next beggar

 At the end of Sunday evening go for a drink to wrap up a lovely day. At the corner after the alley from the church there is a pizza restaurant. There is a group of people in front of it, as always. It is a collection of smokers and delivery service people awaiting a commision. A woman walks over and asks whether a nearby town is known. She is wearing the black leather trousers that are fashionable now and some sort of black jacket.

She says that it is important and that she needs to be driven there. This is hard to believe, this does not normally happen. People do not normally walk up to complete strangers and ask to be driven somewhere at ten in the evening, or actually at any time at all. Then follows a convoluted story of love and refusal, a family in trouble and that the matter is a matter of life and death. Ask how many children are involved.

Three is the answer. The boyfriend has ditched her and she needs to talk to him. So she needs to go to Mainburg. This is very curious, but she manages to make her voice very urgent, and there is a tiny ring of truth to the whole thing. Ask her why she does not take a taxi. She says she has no money. Ask her how she paid for the pizza that she is eating. She says somebody gave it to her. That does not seem to be quite true. She starts again about her three destitute children and the young daughter with the male boyfriend. This is the only time such nonsense has ever happened, and it will never happen again. Agree to help her out, she collects her bags and follows to the car. We put them into the trunk of the car and she goes to the passenger side, gets in, fastens her seatbelt. Tell her that she is most unwise to be getting into a car with a strange man at night, surely she must know that. She says that this is an emergency. 

Set the navigation instrument on the mobile phone, at first this is frightening when it says that the nearest Mainburg is in Austria, and a three hour journey. Check again, and the journey shortens to half an hour. That is better. 

On the whole convoluted drive to Mainburg she keeps up an incessant chatter, stream of conscious stuff. All questions are answered at once, simply, straightforward, and all the answers remain consistent. She repeats herself, it is all simple romantic stuff, she swears that she is not bad for fifty and that the guy is lucky and if he doesn't want her she will go but if he does she won't, And she goes on and on until it becomes clear that there are some kind of drugs or serious insanity here. At her age she cannot be so naive. Tell her that she is probably making a bad situation worse, it was, after all now close after ten at night, and nobody is going to entertain her out in the middle of what was nowhere country. She just repeats her stories of unrequited love, her dead husband and her three children.

Arrived in Mainburg, realise that she does not have a clue where to go to. Look up the firm on the telephone, realise with relief that it exists and drive her to this truckers park after a confusing roundabout with tiny streets and the navigation system giving its instructions too late.

At the truckers park she gets out, takes her stuff from the trunk saying "I owe you one" Tell her not to worry about it, say goodbye and  get back into the car and drive away, drive back home. Whatever problem she had, it was hers, and she could keep it. It was madness to get involved 

Think about the constant chatter on the way back home. Is that what atropin would do to you? It was obvious that direct lies were impossible for her, but she could  make up no original sentence, and give no clear lucid account of anything.

The next beggar who approaches on the street will have one Euro, That is cheaper than this close encounter with madness.

A Sunday upon which all the shops may open for business

 The sky in the east was red, and the cat is wandering about in a curious demanding fashion, requiring attention, unsure, curiosity showing all over the feline face.

Downstairs, she requires feeding, and then refuses the offered dish of cat food. Then she wants to be let into the sitting room, that is all in order. The once-beautiful sitting room is now in a state of disorder. That is too bad, that is the affair of those who sit there and work there.

Make breakfast, take it upstairs and see that the sun has risen.

And when that is done, go downstairs again and have a shower, wash away the night.

Sunday morning is quiet outside, none of the gentleman racers around town have started their engines yet. That will come later, as the shops and the cafés open on this sales Sunday. A Sunday upon which all the shops may open for business.

This happens only a few times a year.

Business is always good.

panic is not a nice thing.

 People will talk for ever and more when they realise that they are losing influence over the conversation, and then when conversations become technical the problems are only greater. This is what happened at the Saturday meeting, and it left a numb feeling, the knowledge that the explanation was factually wrong. The man is not to be corrected, he is a master of his trade.

On the way home find the good looking painter outside her studio, looking strict and sad. She tells the tail of woe that she had to finish with her boyfriend because he told her to shut up and go away one time to many. So she did. She shut up and went. But she is upset, for the man was crude. 

At home read the news, enjoy the open room with the verandah door wide open. It is a bright day. The news is full of King Charles the third, even though there is no surprise to be expected in this event. The chances of something going wrong are minimal.

And a long telephone conversation sets the plan for tomorrow.

It is a day of no great events, but with a few pleasant interludes. 

There will be no going out to the pub tonight, the experiences this morning at four  with the suddenly beating hard and the panic as the alcohol took its course. It was a bad memory and panic is not a nice thing.

articles

 The white vapour trail behind the aircraft is visible as this crosses the blue sky, starting behind the green trees on the ridge and seemingly to stretch vertically from the horizon to the apex. Actually, the trail fades again before the aircraft is half way across the sky. The jet is so high that it is most likely to be only using Munich as a way point. It is so high and fast that it takes up until now for the sound to reach the ground. And that sound is just a distant rumble.

The birds are happily twittering outside, it is just ten past six in the morning. It is the small birds twittering time now. Having gone to bed early last night  this mornings breakfast was made in the dark, and the birds started singing as soon as it was light. It is still not warm enough to leave the verandah door open for breakfast, but that will change in the coming weeks. The warmer weather is something to look forward to, there will be a period when it is pleasant before it becomes too hot.

An early pigeon has started to coo outside. Remember the sound of the young hawks from the church last night, screaming for food. Food for them is pigeons. Wish the birds well.

There is nothing much to write about. Finally have made the decision to buy a digital subscription for the New York Times, they have many well written articles. At least there will be something to read.

It is now the evening of the day, Two beers in the pub, and a plate of spaghetti at the Italian place. In the pub admire the young womens trousers, the women themselves are not so much worth commenting on. At the Italian place the women almost all have those lips swollen by some injection, it is as if they all want to emulate daisy Duck. The blokes are all dressed in t shirts that are on the small side, they are tight. The conversation is the usual innuendo and rebuff. Just listen, eat and go.

At home, now that it is later, misery sets in. If it were not for the beauty of the rain outside, the thunder of the elements, the lightening flashes  in the warm night all available via the wide open verandah door, there would be madness and depression.

open ai has this to say about the text:

The text describes various observations and experiences throughout the day, from the sighting of a high-flying aircraft leaving a trail across the sky to the sounds of birds chirping in the morning. The author notes the anticipation of warmer weather to come, and their decision to purchase a digital subscription to the New York Times for reading material.

Later in the day, the author goes to a pub and an Italian restaurant. The author observes the fashion choices of the women in these places, commenting on the style of their clothing and the appearance of their lips. The conversation among the patrons is described as typical, consisting of innuendo and rebuffs. Overall, the text provides a snapshot of the author's day and the small observations and experiences that make it up.

how

The pills for the blood pressure are just taken and the headache starts. A pain in the right forehead to accompany the hiss in the left ear and temple. But these things have all been around for a while, and who cares other than the one experiencing these things. Read about a new drug against Alzheimer, the cost seems phenomenal when multiplied with the amount of sufferers of this disease. There are billions of dollars or of any other currency for that matter.

It is the fourth of May and it is warm and comfortable. It will be another month before people start to complain about the heat. A short period between to cold and too hot, the human does not need any disease to be forgetful of things that have elapsed, to forget past discomfort is easy, unless compensation is being demanded for this distress. This morning is beautiful, the clothes chores have been done so far, now there is nothing to look forward to but the collection of the car from its temporary parking spot.

Allowing the depressions to start again, how is it possible to allow something that cannot be stopped? How is it to be done?

morning birdsong two

 The crow is cawing again, perhaps it does this every morning. The small birs song and twitterings are from fafrther awa now. perhaps they are all in the park. The only sound is from what must be the compactors of the rubbish collection people crushing the waste from another street. This is followed by the steady beep of the reversing vehicle.

It is a foggy morning, the grey trees up on the flanks of the valley are barely visible, in fact they are only visible because their presence is known. Everything outside is damp and sounds are muffled.

The breakfast made and eaten, it is turning into the most enjoyable meal of the day, alone in the room with the table lamp and the sound of the birds. The bed is still unmade, it will have to be dealt with shortly.

Think about the strange telephone call yesterday. It was just a steady stream of blather, that photographer friend, all about himself, his daughters, and his house and his sleeping habits. Remember listening to the conversation, and thinking that it is not that much different from other accounts, it is just that the trivia so urgently explained suddenly come to an end mid sentence because the man has to go because he has had a telephone call on another machinte and it is probably his daughter he will ring back and then he hangs up.

Not having spoken for guite some time now press the red button on the phone and turn it off. Turn it off just in case he does ring back and continue his monologue.

Shortly later there is a buzz from the machine, and a message on the screen.

The crow caws again, four times, as it did yesterday. Then, a minute later, it does it again. After which there is the sound of a pigeon cooing in the distance.

silent

 Five thirty six in the morning and breakfast is done, the preparations for the day ahead are begun. What kind of madness is this? It is still dark outside, and it is comparatively warm. 

The birds start to sing as it gets lighter, twittering and chirping. The cooing pigeons are silent, they will sound later. It is just before dawn, the sky is now brightening visibly. There is no reason not to be content with things, but it is not so. The pictures that had not been deliverable yesterday will need to delivered today. They were viewed yesterday, everyone says that they were good, well, either everyone is polite or the work is satisfactory. Get rid of the stuff, and look for the next job.

Life in this small town is easy, everything can be reached on foot. It is possible to go to an early morning bakery for breakfast, perhaps that will be later. For now enjoy the open window with the sound of the cars on the cobbles coming in . The small birds have stopped their song for now, a single crow emits caws in groups of four, then makes a pause and is 

silent.

will be crooning over the pictures in their dotage.

 This morning is a splendid awakening to silence and sunlight. There is no more than the sounds of birds and the heavy metal of church bells. There is hazy light from outside and it is a warm May the first, cool air coming in through the open verandah door and not the biting chilly pain of winter. Make breakfast to the sound of the son's alarm clock, a thing that he had forgotten to switch off. It is a holiday today, he need not go to work.

Take breakfast up to the bedroom, this has become a habit now, and turn on the computer. Not even the American papers do any reporting today, there is no mail. There are only the remaining pictures from the concert on Friday night, the night that turned into such a gruesome event by degrees and piece by piece.

There were no pictures taken of the stony-faced audience who had paid a regular entrance fee to watch a private talent show with proficient professionals doing the background sounds. This was out of respect, neither were pictures taken of the people dancing in the aisles, the sixty year old's imitating teenagers. Out of respect for the undead and regard for the survivors.

Close the screen and put away the pictures. The job will be paid for, perhaps; and perhaps somebody will be crooning over  the pictures in their dotage.

Return to breakfast and the irritating lack of news. The birdsong outside has been replaced by the more heavy-duty cooing of pigeons and the sun has climbed higher into the sky. Let's do the best for this first day of May.

from the dregs of Friday night

 On this first of May write this for the thirtieth of April, yesterday was forgotten in the aftermath of the concert party on the twenty-ninth.  The party was fine, the band was good, and the star solo performer was awful. Her courage to get up on stage and to do a young woman's show was admirable. 

The whole day of the thirtieth was spent trying to recover pictorially those things that had been messed up the evening before. The pictures of the boss' daughter on stage, eyes closed crooning of lovers with a heart of stone, her father droning out an Italian love song. And wandering along the aisles, time was spent avoiding wine glasses deposited on the floor for lack of tables and elderly women dancing in the corridors. A good time was had by all.

The next day was spent nurturing depressions, arguing with the wife over money and, as said, trying to rescue worthwhile pictures, wait for it! 

from the dregs of Friday night.