why so keen to break the law today?

 An afternoon spent eating the easter lamb prepared by a man from the radio. Meet a couple of charming younger people, a very kind French woman and a man from India, a professional Sitar player. They were all very cheerful in their ways.

The lamb was good, but the soup was better. The personal sense of taste has gone away.

A day spent eating and speaking.

That was Easter Sunday, a very pleasant day, a very confused day.

In the spent time in a pub called the Nepomuk with one of the musicieans. He was smoking a joint, and the smell blew in to the pub. The propreitor came out and said that this was not allowed here. So the man had to to extinguish his smoke. 

The wind had died and the weather is warm.

Tomorrow  the use of cannabis will no longer be criminal. Why is the musician so keen to break the law today?

maybe there is an idea

 With a short exclamation the cat tenses its rear feet and legs and jumps up on the thinly clad human legs. The human is sitting at the table typing these notes. The cat settles down and purrs regularly. Perhaps it is the proximity of the human or the warmth or both but the animal seems satisfied.

The temperature in the room is now eleven degrees, this is bearable. Just a few degrees less is really uncomfortable. Also, there seems to be a different quality in the air, it is not so easy to freeze. Perhaps that is humbug, and this old body has just got used to the air temperature being lower

The weather is grey outside, despite the promise of higher temperatures and some sunshine.

There is a consideration now as to whether or not a business should be opened selling photographs. This would be a hobby really, one that would hopefully pay for itself. And if not, then the loss would be held within bounds. Perhaps this would be an idea, perhaps not.

hedonistic love of luxury

 It is nine minutes past nine in the morning and the sun is shining in through that verandah door. Breakfast, there is only half a glass of coffee left. The bed is not made yet, the cat is still downstairs. Perhaps it will stay there today. It is Good Friday, another big Christian holiday.

Think back on what has been learnt from memories. It is sufficient to have learnt from, but an exact repetition will never be possible, mistakes can never be repealed and positive experiences will never be repeated. Remember that, remember that at every visit your friends are older people. Some of them wish that they had done things better, and some do not.

Similar to yesterday's experience, the cloud cover is thickening and the sunlight is diffusing, perhaps there will be rain later. Having spent ten minutes thinking and writing, more time has elapsed and the sunlight brightened, then it spread and dimmed again. The heater, turned on in the morning before going downstairs, is a delight on this March morning, the twenty-ninth of the month. Some comfort is always worthwhile, even for one of austere upbringing in this environment of hedonistic love of luxury in southern Bavaria. The simple and the bare are replaced by the barely simple.

Up on the bluff over the town there is a viewpoint, visible through the verandah window. There are the trunks of bare trees all along the visible crest of this bluff, with light pouring through them. A runner runs along the path there, a profile, a tiny tree that has taken up his roots and run for it.

sunrise promised a great day, and now it has simply gone grey.

 The morning is done, the sleep completed. The cat is fed and cuddled.

Now the fully simple, no-problem, etc etc bank information technology change is completed so that all accounts are visible again. It took two hours, eventually a restart served ro bring the machinery back into line. There is a new identification line to be remembered, and two new paswwords. A third password is due to become actual in the cours of the coming month. 

The cleaning operation in Bayreuth was more strenuous than had been expected, the son is still asleep. even though it is nearly midday.

It is strange that today sunrise promised a great day, and now it has simply gone grey.

And it stayed grey. Now it is half past nine, and the visit to the pub is done. The pub smells of urine today, there is a fault in the drains. Who knows why, but everyone thinks " its not me"-

Spoke with nobody, stayed alone watching and reading. It is no problem, not really.

During the day the heavy boxes from Bayreuth were brought up to the first floor landing. It nearly broke the old back, but the heart would have been broken to see the stuff lying about in the entrance passage for the next three months or more. 

Fed the cat her evening meal.

useless vehicle

 Starting early, drove the car to Bayreuth, The car had a heavy consumption of oil, despite slow and careful driving. 

The son's room was a little bit difficult to clean up. Starting with the shower, continued with the whole bathroom and kitchen area, and then clean and wipe the sleeping and work area. It was a little bit difficult. and a bit tiring too. The son was in a good humour, and he was pleased at his fathers foresight in loading up a few boxes to take on all the stuff. As usual, the son has a large collection of computers.

The janitor accepted the condition of the rooms, and signed for the key.

Accept the sons invitation to a meal.

Return home in the early evening, and collapse into bed. It was an exhausting journey, now it is over.. The car is a useless vehicle, kconsuming oil the way it does.

hopefully

 Tuesday, awoke in the morning, all things were a mess. Downstairs, make breakfast, upstairs again, eat that breakfast. Three eggs and two slices of buttered  toasted bread. Ttihere was news of a bridge collapsed in Baltimore after one of its pylons were rammed by a ship. It was strange to see the whole structure collapse, it was frightening.

Finish the photographs, then realise that there is another question pending. The people who want them have clear ideas on what they want, but they do not always express these beforehand. So instead of printing all four sets print two and bring them up the country to show them. Then return and print out the four sets as required.

Decide to remove the baggage from the rear of the car and discover that one of the oil canisters is leaking. Mop up the spillage, then the customer is there at the corner of the street waiting. Give him the pictures, chat awhile, and them return home with an oily tripod

Cap the days activities with a visit to the cafe and do some shopping. The pictures are all done when the wife of the customer rings and thanks for the pictures.

Do the shopping and return home. Tomorrow there will be a long car journey to Bayreuth. Hopefully the car will survive this journey.

chaos day monday

 A post for yesterday, a day that drifted away with a small job that went out of hand, and it was midnight before it was done. A sturdio flash system arrived, it had to be tested. As it worked perfectly the test did not take long. 

Time just flowed away, collecting a small collection of old family photos and putting them under the old Reprovit and making digital pictures of all of them, then fixing up the blemishes on the copies and and and and so forth.

It was a relief that the electronic flash functioned perfectly

Bed so late that it was past midnight and just slept until morning. 

BED

 There is a call from nature at four forty four, or thereabouts. One of those that is to be heeded or else face the misery of the consequences. This Sunday morning is barely lightening, and it has been some time now just lying in bed listening to the sound of the rain and the chirping of the birds. The light, the birds and the rain are all harbingers of a spring that can only be greeted with trepidation this year. It is too hot and too early, and it may turn into a summer that will be a disaster for many. Each of the previous several summers has been too hot, and each has been hotter than the last.

It is cool now in the dark morning, and the bedroom is silent now, the sounds were only to be heard so clearly in the open stairwell with the old single glazed windows with their handmade glass, a leftover from the past. There was also the hum of the low temperature refrigerator, the one in which the wife and the son keep their vast stores of perishable food. They do this despite all the well stocked shops and the market in close proximity to the house. It is strange keeping stores like a squirrel, but for a winter that will not come.

Go to bed again, go between the warm clean sheets for another hour. Then it will be time to get up and to make an early breakfast before taking the car and driving to Vilshofen to meet the collector.

Maybe to go to Passau, to look at the markets. 

the bells have just tolled five times.

BED

visit the collector tomorrow

The day is a thick head day, a day of cold and rain and getting up just a bit late. Breakfast a dismal affair even though the constituting parts are the same as every day. Think and rest in the morning and then go and look at the people in the gallery. Refuse to join the people in the restaurant, it is not my choice to eat with noise all around and people spreading easy right wing comments. The deafness in the presence of noise is especially bad these days. It is the cocktail party effect, as described by BBC technicians. 

Talk with the owners of the gallery, and then with the artist herselft who turns up to collect her works. Help them with the packing of her works and chat with her, it is a little as if there is an attraction there. Maybe it is so. Whatever it is the experience is pleasant. Help them carry the things out of the gallery and help them load the things into the car. Give her a visiting card, and receive hers in turn.

Then return and collect the coat, say goodbye to the gallery owners and go to the cafe. It is not pleasant there today, on this Sunday.

Return home, try to concentrate.

Lie down, cover up.

Sleep for two hours, wake up refreshed and realise that this is a cold again. A simple infection, God only knows where from. And who cares?

Settle down to read, it will be necessary to wake up early tomorrow in order to drive down to Passau and to visit the collector.

lost in the park

 Today, a day for the laundry, which has piled up for the last three weeks. Add to this the bedclothes and it is a respectable heap. But then, what are the machines for, the one to do the washing and the one to do the drying. First the white things, at sixty degrees, to kill any bugs and maybe get rid of coffee stains and worse. Then the black things, all at thirty degrees so that they do not turn into the grey things too soon. And finally all the colourful stuff, just hope that all the colours remain fast at forty degrees.

And whilst those machines are turning tidy up the section of the house and the bed, sweep the stairs and then go out for a bowl of soup in the Thai takeaway. This is not a thing everybody will understand, but those freshly made Thai soups are nice. Also, do some shopping, and dump some old bottles that have been hanging about for years. It is time that they were got rid of.

There are many bits and pieces to be done, the wahing machine emptied, the bedclothes, the socks and the underpants cleared away, the black jeans too. The coloureds are all still drying, they will have to be sorted and packed away soon too.

The cafe in the evening is not really pleasant, for the staff start aggressively clearing up before the place has closed. It is not pleasant because there is the feeling that they would prefer it if you were not there,

The final excursion is a walk by the castle and through the park. There is a long telephone call that is recieved whilst watching the animals in their enclosures.And then the walk back to town in the steadily darkening evening.

A man accosts, demanding to know the best way to get to the parking spot at the top of the park. Tell him the way, he runs off. He has a rude demeanor, he is in a hurry. Maybe he will get lost in the park.

rest for the wicked

 The race to the radiologists, arrive early and 

twenty minutes later it is already done, a CD with the data and just walk back home. It is easy in town. Stop at a café on the way, watch the Minoan girl serve behind the counter.

Go home, start to sort the papers with which it may be possible to calm the hunger of the tax accountant. 

And then take a train to the car repair place, and listen to the long explanations, cut them short and say that it is clear. Make up an appointment for the second week in April, perhaps they can fix it then. On the way to the repair place make an expensive order on ebay, who cares. Then see that a pdf has been sent by the artists, the work is complete and ready to go to the printers. It is now forty-eight pages long.

The repair shop is busy, leave them to their work after buying a can of motor oil. Hopefully this will never need to be used. 

In the evening, go to the pub and have a bowl of pea soup and two glasses of beer. Start to feel cold and ill, perhaps this is a delayed affect of the contrast stuff that was injected this morning.

There is a heap of fresh cat vomit waiting at the top of the stairs. Clear that away too, and think that there is no rest for the wicked.

cafe day, and afternoon portraits

 Yesterday's walk has left weakness in place today, there is no wish to rush out and to do things. There is a 'phone call in the morning, somebody else wants free photographs. Since it is a friend, agree, even though there is a slight annoyance at this abuse of friendship. Still, it is all practice and a form of publicity. The café has numerous people who belong to the seat-reserving class of Germans who are not afraid to ask whether or not you are finished or not and then add "because if you are then I am going to sit down there".

Shameles ignoramuses, the world rotates with them as its centre in their view.

The cafe was pleasant enough anyway.

There will be a meeting to take more pictures in about forty five minutes, and there is no happiness in the current personal situation here at home. There will be a visit to the doctors tomorrow.

and the blog for yesterday was forgotten

 Yesterday, on the nineteenth of the month, there was no entry here.

Sorry about that. It was forgotten amid various occurrences during the late afternoon and evening. After a quiet day with the usual animosities in the house, the decision was made to bring the car to the car workshop on the day before the appointment and to walk back home.

The walk along the river was fine and relaxing.

It was all of nine kilometres in the woods by the river during sunset and early evening, and it was tiring. It was strange to be overtaken by a few runners, and to overtake a young woman with all the nordic walking gear, but still obviously very tired. She must have overdone the exercise and forgotten that she would have to return to the town.

Drop by to the pub upon returning to the town, and have a drink. At home, the son is hysterical because of something online, a discussion with friends. Telecommunications used to be a single telephone for a house, things are different now.

And later, he comes up to the room and we have a long discussion.

and the blog for yesterday was forgotten

stay stop and go

 A strange day started off with a silly morning. There were no eggs for breakfast, had two cups of coffee instead. Followed this up with a quick walk to the shops, and bought a number of things, including both cat food and eggs. Take the doctors advice to heart, and buy a plastic bag of apples too.

In the cafe there is the girl with the extraordinary regular features, she has to clean up the mess caused by a very large lady who dropped her tray. There were bits of broken crockery everywhere.

The young woman with those regular, almost minoan features, cleared the mess and swept the floor for good measure.

At home again there is the sense of destruction and misery that probably always surrounds failed marriages. The realisation that this is not going anywhere, and it is almost impossible to leave, certainly no easy way out. No wish to stay, and nowhere to go .

Return the flash gear to its owner, after a telephone call informed that the raw files would be required so that the person who wanted the pictures could edit them himself. There is no way that this request can be met. This photographer finishes his own pictures, there is no supplying amateurs with hobby materials. There was a pleasant cup of coffee together with the artists, and now home for a boring evening.

Still boring.

greenish

 The explanation for the silly green hats in the pub last night is now clear, it was people celebrating Saint Patrick's Day. Supposedly any excuse is good enough for a drink or two. Today spent walking through the park, met the camera collector, then walked down to town and met the old man from Spain. He was in the café plugging in his laptop. Chat with him about the performance of Brahms Requiem the night before.

And upon returning to the flat met up with the artist couple in the street, and had yet another cup of coffee together with them. 

And now write these notes for the blog, it is eight minutes past three in the afternoon.

There is now time to prepare all of the documents for the tax people.

It is a wam spring day, watered a dead looking plant this morning and see that it has turned greenish by this afternoon.

waste

 the morning spent editing all of those pictures taken yesterday. This was just time - consuming, for the borrowed flash had a strong yellow cast, nice for

portraits if there is no other lighting, but not daylight, nowhere near 5200 deg. Kelvin. Just work making the blue backgrounds white.

Collect the var from the dodgy parking spot.

Then go back tp working on the pictures.

Meet carlos by chance in the cafe.  Talk awhile, then make a telephone call to james, a very sick man .

Go home, the loneliness is too much, go out to the pub and write this shit.

greek

 the middle of the month, and not much has been dealt with, other than that the work for the artists book is finisuhed and the preparation for the next work may begin. The evening was spent taking pictures of an old friend for his business. It was good to have been able to borrow a flash, the little device worked wonders to get rid of the coal cellar atmosphere in the modern flat.

The morning was spent walking about, also took a picture of a switching box that had been decorated with stickers and spray paint.

The work in the evening went quickly and was not complicated.

It remains to be seen how good the quality is.

The evening meal in a Greek restaurant was heavily meaty, much the way Greek food always is.

Feeling sick, return home and write these notes.

It will be an early night tonight.

bird singing

The body knows when there is a day off to be enjoyed. It seems to go into a kind of "lazy mode",  and just relaxes in bed. This will not do, force the system to be upstanding and to go downstairs. Make coffee, realise that the insulated glass is still upstairs. Go up and get the glass, and look at the camera with the new lens plate, see that everything is in order.

On the way down the stairs, hear that there is a bird singing outside. That means that summer is on the way, and that is good news and a good start to this day, even if it is late. Make the breakfast, two slices of toast and some poached eggs. On the way back upstairs enjoy the early cloud filtered sunlight. This comes in through the old glazing enclosing the balconies. This is pleasant.

It is now nine fifteen, breakfast is done, and the pills remain to be taken. The results from the doctor's laboratory show a deficiency of vitamin D and an excess of cholesterin. Well, so be it, more sunlight and more exercise would be a good thing.

The day will be spent trying to put some machinery into order. A small flash loaned by one of the artists may be a help with the job tomorrow.

done

 That is all, the doctor's assistant copied the necessary documents and added them to the documents already in the folder. All is set for the next radiographic teat next week.

The proofs are back, and there is an invitation to go on up and to look at them. They are all in order, now it is up to the printer. Spend some time editing konenof the pictures, but then a decision is made to stay with the original.

That is the end of the photographers part in the work. The job is done now, after six months. In the evening, take the son out for an Indian meal.

a bit clean

 wake up eat shower dress and fix the flush on the toilet. This last item has started to overflow again, which happens when the stopcock does not stop the water filling the flush canister any more. The water then flows out via the overflow, and will keep on running until the mechanism is adjusted. Use a screwdriver to undo the cover of the wall flush.

After simply moving the parts and freeing them, the thing seems to work again.

Leave the house and take the car to the repair shop. Both mechanics look and listen and then both look doubtful. By the look of things, the motor will have to be dismantled, that is all very doubtful. It will be expensive, says the look on the owners face. They will have time on Wednesday to look at it.

Drive the car back, on the way stop at a car wash place and go over the cars interior with a vacuum cleaner. Then give the outside of the car a quick wash with a pressure hose.

At least it will be a bit clean

'phone

 busy, busy business, that is the way this morning, there is this that and the other to be done. Pack the prints, bring them up to the artists, and pick up a spot more work. Spend some time comparing colours with the original, then re edit one of the pictures from scratch. What else is to be done? Return home, make a couple of prints and then go out for a meal at the Thai place, that is almost a joke, they say "see you tomorrow"

Go to the cafe for a small cup of coffee.

Then do a little houswork, tranport the empty bottles to the bottle bank and the biological waste to the brown bins at the end of the street. Then wash out the bag in which the bottles had been. 

And then back home, see that there is a mistake in the prints, the wrong profile was used earlier on. Print them again, destroy the old prints. Print two new ones, then take the car up to the artists place and give them the new prints. They appear happy with the result, that is fine. Now it is down to the graphic artist.

Return home, now it is time to wonder what to do next. There are 'phone messages for tomorrow and Friday.

feline sunday morning

 Downstairs, the kitchen has had attempts made to clean it up, the floor has been swept, the sweepings are lying there beside the floor brush. The dustpan had apparently not been found, so the sweepings remained on the floor until then. That is a situation for a psychologist to explain in detail, but it looks like the inability to finish things once started.

The cat is preening on the furniture and on the human legs. It does not like the dry cat food, it wants wet cat food from a tin. As the small animal has known all its life long. Get a spoon after checking the fridge for opened cat food tins. There are none there, so open a fresh tin and place two spoonfuls of the content onto the red cat plate. The cat is displaying its interest by supporting itself on the table as it stands on its hind legs. Put the plate on the floor and the cat commences feeding.

Make breakfast and take it upstairs. The cat jumps out onto the balcony, and then stands outside the verandah door looking in through the glass. Open the door, the cat comes in. When breakfast is finished, the cat signals that it would like to jump up onto the human knees, to be a lap-cat so as to speak.

Once there, it purrs and allows its poll to be scratched, a certain amount of back rubbing is acceptable too. The animal settles down. If the human knees had been covered in denim jeans (Levis 501) it would have exercised its claws on the fabric. But as the human legs are currently covered in light pyjama fabric, experience has taught the animal that claw exercises lead to hefty reactions on the part of the human, the simplest of which are loud etxclamations. Therefore, no clawing to be done today.

After a while the cat gets up and jumps down. The animal inspects the room, checks the door to the next room, and finding that closed settles down on the end of the bed for a snooze.

Finish breakfast, finish reading the sparse Sunday news,  and now it is time to collect the car from its weekend parking lot.

Things End

 It is a fumbly business to wake up today,  it is just a bit too cold to be happy about leaving the bed, Get up, and do all the usual things anyway.

There are photographs to be corrected, work on them untill they appear pleasant. It is difficult to prepare the pictures for printing on unsized paper, there is only a very short tonal range to work with, It is hard to get results that do not appear tonally flat.

Go to the gallery and deliver one of the books from the reaktor, the owner of the gallery would like a copy.

The son comes in and asks for information on where the cocoa is. That is a strange question, it was unclear that there was any cocoa in the house. The son is angry, but his father can only assure him of his innocence pertaining the disappearance of the two boxes of cocoa.

In the evening, visit the tenant in the shop. She presents her notice for quitting the shop. It is unclear whether or not the one who has become her boss will continue renting the shop after she has gone. So she is quitting, before she becomes liable. She was a pleasant tenant, it is sad that these things end the way they do.

Go upstairs, and stay alone in the room, then decide to go out to the pub.There is no harm in that.

outside is beautiful

 Yesterday the collection of the books from the research facility went well and was successful, the people were all friendly as always, and generous too. It is hard to tell what is to happen with the thirty books, but they themselves were unsure of what to do with the remaining nine hundred and seventy.

The books are nicely produced, hardcover, and weigh a kilo each.

The visit to the artists afterwards was a small disappointment, they were out. Left a copy of the book and went home.

The rest of the day was filled with dissapointments, a visit to the cultural italians place was frightening, it was just a horde of old people being cultural. Thee was the old picture of the culture vulture feeding off the freshly dead.

This morning, woke up with the alarm on the 'phone. That alarm is proving useful again, without this reminder there would be nothing there to hinder the bodies wildest stories. The old body would tell any lie and grant any dream to remain in the warmth of the bed.

Bathroom and breakfast, all done.

There will be time to have a shower, the day is young. It will also be possible to deliver a book to the collector, as promised.

The day outside is beautiful.

severance

 This morning is placid, the alarm muted. Muted enough to avoid the shock and start in the early morning slumbers.

Silence the vibrating thing.

Downstairs, shower, make breakfast

Upstairs, eat, make the bed, get dressed, and read the news. Then take the dirty crockery downstairs and go and brush the teeth in the bathroom. Then, upstairs, get dressed for the day and take the pills with a glass of water.

The Americans have a dyed blond red tied icon to believe in, a man who has run every business he has owned into the ground and who feels entitled never to pay his own debts. This is their problem, and also their lookout.

Today, the little room is beautiful, the sun is shining in through the verandah door, it is the prison cell of some dreams. It is possible to keep it orderly in a male sort of way, a narrow bed and a small table for furnishings. It is comparative luxury, and it is peaceful.

Today is the day to collect the book that contains a collection of the work of the last thirty years. This will be the final severance from a life of work.

not a duck

 The cafe is quiet this Wednesday evening. It was a strange day, one that is to anticipate tomorrow. Today was quiet and sad, took a walk in the park. There was a young rhea in the duck pen, a group of somewhat doddery old age pensioners established that it was definitely not a duck. They may have been the same age as the American president.

The day started with yet another message from the graphic artist. He has put together a tableau of the pictures for a printer's proof. Say that this is oK, and send the lot to those paying for the work as a carbon copy.

The walk was followed by a meal in the Thai place, that one will probably be the last for this week.

An afternoon nap, then fold the shirts hanging out after having been ironed.

The cafe is atill quiet this Wednesday evening, it is later now, the light is failing slowly.

food for the machine

 Today, the alarm set last night went off and that was the beginning of the day. Started to clear up things, make breakfast, do all of the things that are usually on the menu. 

There isu another phone call, another thing needs fixing. How unpleasant, really!

Fix the item on the computer, then recieve a message that the other has done it himself.

Ok, stand down, as the morth Americans say in a case like that. 

Then remember to take the pills. Downstairs, the mess in the kitchen is unbearable- Talk to the son about it, get shouted at in return. Well, that is sad, and tell him so. Later, find him cleaning the kitchen stove, express approval.

Go out and have lunch at the takeaway, the kitchen is unusable. It is still unusable upon returning, and meanwhile the cat has puked all over the floor in front of the bathroom. Kick the wife's dirty clothing aside, mainly onto the heap that has been there for some time, gather the solid bits of cat vomit in a paper towel and consign the lot to the lavatory. Then get a pail and a mop and wash the floor. The smell of soiled clothes and of cat vomit would be just to much.

This is gross, went out to the café to calm down, and then ran the vacuum cleaner over the surfaces and the floors in the bedroom and workroom. There were many dust bunnies under the bed, all food for the machine. At least the personal area is moderately dust free and tidy now. The rest of the house is sadly awful.

But as the people say: "it is not my job".

should destroy them.

Early, go to the loo, go back upstairs and sleep. The pattern repeats again and again, and it is just a sign that things will have to be changed. Fuss about all morning, have a shower, and deal with a problem that occurred over the weekend. Due to an oversight the wrong profile had been tagged to a print. This meant that it had to be redone.

At midday, go to the Thai place, just for solace and to get away from home. The son said that he was a bit ill in bed, wish him a speedy improvement and leave the house. The Thai place is friendly and full, as every day.

Return home for a quick conversation on the telephone, and then go to the shops. Get some shopping done, return to find the son putting his pullovers into the oven to destroy the moths. This is unbelievable. it is the first time ever to be told of such a method.

Hopefully it will work to destroy the larvae of the moths. The heat of fifty degrees Centigrade should destroy them.

And in the evening, realise that the medicines have been forgotten today.

Just like that.

jazz

 The morning was spent trying to hetthimgs into order, to make the printer print and ro fo out to the cafe.

That was all o. K. 

The remainder of the day went down the plughole with minding clothes and washing, even ironing. The night was spent taking pictures at a two-man jazz concert.

Free jazz and free beer.

wrong

 What is this tiredness that will not let go? Wake and feel that it is gone. Then later, just like that. it returns. There is no reason for it really, there is adequate sleep at night. It is just a sudden attack of drowsiness, a sleep attack.

Today in the café, sat in the corner drinking coffee, and then the eyes closed and leant back against the wall. It was a ten second sleep, and there was no feeling of refreshment afterwards It was just a type of knockout, and the tired feeling persisted all the way home. At home, attempt to clear up some problems with the pictures, they just refuse to turn out right.

Then lie down. cursing.

Wake up two and a half hours later, do not feel better, just feel hungry.

Something is not right.

The meeting of the people at the gallery was a success today, it was pleasant enough. They were all chatting, the man who was bereaved so recently seems to be recovereing as well.

But these sleep attacks are simply destroying every sense of wellbeing that there may have been. It is gone. Hopefully it will return in the nearing spring.

y not

 A day like yesterday, early rising, fixing and finishing things that needed doing, and then a midday bowl of soup at the Thai place.

While there the artists telephone and inform that there is concern over some of the pictures for their book from the viewpoint of the graphic artist. Look up the things, and fix the problems. His view of these problems is partly fueled by self importance, he takes pictures himself. Do the work, it makes him happy, and remember that not everything is to be seen from the one perspective. He may well be right. He is conservative in his views, that is as such not a bad thing. Copy the files to the server, he can collect them and do as he wants. 

Check up on the other pictures, and then finish working on them and put them onto the server too. Now the work is done, take a rest.

There will be a visit to the pub tonight, why not.