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Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Last day
So cold my nose is numb but I still catch the clean clear scent of the Sarcocca in the hedge.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Clean Sheets - Friday 27th
My manuscript is printed. For the moment I'm content to sit with the pristine black and white sheets before I start with the red ink.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Tuesday Seventeenth
This morning the beech trees on the A5 roundabout are modelling themselves on a painting by Carrington - how slender their trunks are and look at the elegant tracery of their branches - but for the cars hurrying past
Monday, January 16, 2012
Frost - Monday Sixteenth
The frost beauty of the morning, red sun rising through silvered trees, is overshadowed by fears my car will go into another skid - one I can't control.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Saturday January Fourteenth
This morning’s cold weather makes the sky more blue or perhaps the clearness in the air makes it possible to see further.
Thursday’s Stone
This mug of tea, this pen, this writing book serve as markers to remind me of the day’s purpose.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Oh yes it is - January Eleventh
This morning at the ‘Walk to school’ stamping table I’m joined, or should that be ambushed, by two pantomime players – the principal boy and the Dame (who is really Mabel’s dad). Fortunately the head teacher doesn’t see them and there’s no sign of her although the Dame offers to pretend to be her if the Ofsted inspectors turn up today.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Seagulls - January tenth
Six seagulls lined up on top of the street light being raucous. I imagine the conversation.
'Shove up Bert I've hardly got room for me feet.'
'Awright Missus keep your feathers on'.
'Shove up Bert I've hardly got room for me feet.'
'Awright Missus keep your feathers on'.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Hungary - Monday Ninth January
I walk into work with John, an academic colleague who spends most of the year working with Roma families. With a shudder he tells me of the return of forced labour to Hungary with people having to go into the forests to work.
How thin the veneer of civilisation is, how thin.
How thin the veneer of civilisation is, how thin.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Sunday Eighth
Blackbirds call through the deepening dusk that feels mild as a March lamb. Sky flushed pink with the sunset.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Practice
You're playing that as if you're trying to get it perfect instead of learning it - my guitar teacher's delight
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Golden Apples - Jan fifth
On the edge of the industrial estate a tree still draped with yellow apples, despite the gales, like a late Christmas decoration.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Look up
A magpie - no wait - a black and white woodpecker tapping its way up the bark of the Poplar tree - how red its feet are. This morning's gift for looking up from my screen.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
3rd Jan
The rain running down the window pane looks so inviting to my parched office plants that I’m tempted to open the double glazed window to let the weather in.
Monday, January 2, 2012
January Second
Chocolate cornflake cakes - the simplest form of baking but you are rapt with concentration.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
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