Damn, this has been a strange day.
Dry cough and me in this bull-suit. Keep out of Crockery shops for best results.
It started with such virtue. Yours not understanding.
The writer was Russian, you’d never guess.
It’s been a week since a post, that’s what happens to brains befuddled by a head-cold.
A lot has happened though. Last weekend’s fabulous camping escape; crossing the Glyderau; beach day on Fairbourne with a new friend; school things, jarring recollections of the distressing side-salad incident.
I’ll never forget that salad- it was an emotional experience.
Below: the Glyderscape, is this a real place on earth that we visited?
…
Above: Snowdon is in the background
Paris, Je T’aime: utterly charming film, a series of short stories with the obvious backdrop. Some were more french in flavour, some less so.
Overall, they reflected the multinational city in a set of moving, sometimes tragic set pieces. A beautiful film.
New books to tease me while I finish the current one.there are too many here- nice problem to have. Brautigan has a fine voice, it’s a plain melody to listen to while reading.
Approved of by the English department, they want to use them to teach short story analysis. what a great conversation that started- went so far that we want to take kids up Yr Wyddfa in bad weather and take turns reading and thinking romanticism. No it’s nothing to do with boy+girl stuff, this is just as big but ignored by city folk. stop and listen to the quietness and it’s just as loud- it has a big voice.
Tide in. All the photos are in my memory, it was too wet to get the camera out this week. The grass, channels and clay-slip mud banks. What a contrast to those raw frightening but sublime summits of the last few trips.
Am I getting worse?
Third ride this week where the start and finish were in good conditions but the middle- miserable penetrating drizzle.
Packing bags again. See you…
Fugitive Motel :
Lost in a lullaby
Side of the road
Melt in a memory
Slide in a solitude
Not ‘til I can read by the moon
Am I going anywhere
Not ‘til I can read by the moon
Chorus
I blow you a kiss
It should reach you tomorrow
As it flies from the other side of the world
From my room in my fugitive motel
Somewhere in the dust bowl
It flies from the other side of the world
‘I’m tired’ I said
‘You always look tired’ she said
‘I’m admired’ I said
‘You always look tired’ she said
Not ‘til I can read by the moon
Am I going anywhere
Not ‘til I can read by the moon
Curtains stay closed
But everyone knows
You hear through the walls in this place
Cigarette holes for every lost soul
To give up the ghost in this place
Give me strength
Give me wings
[Elbow]
Better start packing again. Cycled slowly to start with- combine harvesters only do 12 mph on a single-track road, no room to pass. But after 6 wheels rolled over along 3 tracks, a perfectly unharmed frog flopped several times to the verge.Lucky damned frog: there go the quick, here are the dead. He was too fast to catch on camera. May your luck contine..
Coen Brothers: Fargo– I’m seeing a pattern now, the landscape is different in this film, but its role is the same. This one is funnier than the last one (No country for Old men).
I’m tired and don’t really know why; well, I do but can’t confide. There is someone out there.
The iPod collection is growing rapidly with generous loans from Peter. The gadget has developed a dominantly melancholic mood; that’s my iPod!
Somebody Loves You
Somebody Loves You
Woke up with a bang
And a bug on your face
It crawled in your mouth
And gave you a taste of
The good life you left behind
But I think you’re gonna be fine
Somebody loves you
And you’re gonna make it through
This nagging malaise
Is more than a phase
It feels like a job
But no boss ever pays you to lay there
And think how you’ll die
While the tears start to well in your eyes
Somebody loves you
And you’re gonna make it through
One more Saturday
All alone through the night
You’ve got to be sure
When you turn out that light
That it’s going to turn on again
You’ve got to be your good friend
Somebody loves you
And you’re gonna make it through
E
Searched & Searched: before going to France, I turned over the house looking for these shoes. Made by Speedo, which I bought for swimming in rivers. My poor feet can’t abide the sharp stones. They would have been brilliant swimming in the ‘frozen lake’ or that time wading under the waterfall in that plungepool. That one was so difficult I wore my hiking boots (poor boots).
the madness is in finding these shoes after the holiday.
20°C, it blows
Back from the Alpine trekking.
Six days:
d1, Pointe d’Angolon
d2, Breche du Dérochoir
d3, Roc d’Enfer
d4, Rest day
d5, Lac des Chambres
d6, End of the World
Micycle 