Friday 14th September 2018 - Autumn is Coming

[Retrospectively written - copied from handwritten diary]

The gradual descent into Winter seems tangible.

Today, even sitting in the garden, in full sun, requires a second layer of top clothing to ensure comfort, particularly when the breeze is blowing in from the North or East.

Small birds, tits and robins mostly, are frequenting the feeders again, to the annoyance of the pigeons who have held a virtual monopoly on the easy pickings since the start of Summer. The number of visitors has swollen noticeably, no doubt helped by a good crop of returning fledglings from the Spring matings.

The days are shortening quickly now as the Autumn Equinox approaches so post-dinner sojourns outdoors have ended.

Leaves and fruits drop from trees who've seen it all before, as they draw in their energy and rest beneath bark blankets.

Some welcome and embrace the new season; the jam makers, the game hunters, the football and rugby enthusiasts and the Christmas fanatics. I curse the faint light, the biting cold, the interminable wind and the spiteful precipitation. At least the beach will empty of holidaymakers now, traffic will move freely and there are those hot, slow-cooked dinners to look forward to.

Hoodie's on and I've moved to the garden to write. Dark clouds are rolling across what was a clear sky earlier and it's decidedly chilly. Stormy weather is forecast for the weekend and I fear we've lost the sun for a few days now.

I quite look forward to Fridays, the last day of the working week for most, even though I'm not 'employed' currently and may never be again. They do, I suppose, provide respite from the creditor 'phone calls and there are none on Sunday so my heart can tick with a more natural rhythm and the throat knots and stomach churns will abate somewhat.

As I consider the past week, I feel that matrimonial relations have improved slightly and I've returned to writing after a hiatus. Blog posts have been added retrospectively and links to these no-holds-barred musings have been posted on Twitter, where I'm active again in the #sixwordstory camp. There are more entries to copy to the blog and I'm chastising myself for committing yet more words to paper here but it just feels more natural and personal to use pen and paper.

In other productivity news, Wednesday's woodwork was missed through migraine but a brief willow weaving session garnered another bullrush for the garden.

Just added another couple of days' diary to the blog and was pleased to note that I only had one week left to transcribe. Unfortunately, it appears to be the most fertile week to date. Ah well ! Onwards and upwards.

Been pondering my synopsis that citizenship ought to be an option rather than an obligation. I've done some brainstorming and mind-mapping and it's fraught lwith issues and contradictions. I'm not sure if this is due to the limitations of intellect, a lifetime of indoctrination into the norms of the system or it's just an unworkable idea. I will return to this and write a blog post in due course (I think!). I should maybe research Engels and Marx and see how long it took them to write Das Kapital for reassurance, maybe.

I guess a forum to discuss 'ideas' of any nature would be useful. Maybe one exists already. If it doesn't I already have a name for a collaborative thought site: "THINGK TANGK".

Friday 12th January 2018 - Garden Musings

The feeders by and on the crab-apple in the back garden are well attended these days. Birds were rarely seen in our first years here but it's been 13 now so I guess familiarity and the maturing of the gardens hereabouts has facilitated this welcome development. That and the courage borne from tacit acceptance of the human interlopers in their environment.

Dianne provides them with a veritable feast of assorted nuts, seeds, fat balls & kitchen leftovers. Tits, Robins, Chaffinch, Sparrows, Wren, Magpie, Rook & the obligatory throngs of chattering Starlings are all regulars; Wagtails less so; Pigeons more so. A particularly plump pair, with the air of cargo planes, seem to have taken up permanent residence, appearing without fanfare at first light before fading away at dusk.They perch all day on a convenient branch to gorge, without having to move more than a neck muscle or beak, while looking upon the feverish activity of the tits with bemusement. Our bewilderment is in their ability to achieve flight.

These days the tree is festooned with and much of the garden embellished by assorted solar lighting which radiates all night during the summer to turn the back yard into a fairy grotto but flickers weakly into life for the briefest of moments during the English winter before fading into the blackness.

I worked somewhat yesterday in the daze that persists in the aftermath of a migraine and so the day wasn't completely wasted. The diary was left aside since no clear thought would enter my head -  it seemed the harder I tried to force an idea into the conscious the thicker the walls became, so I eventually had to accept my fate. Maybe this is what writer's block is. Must stop trying and just let it happen naturally. If inspiration visits there's always a device to capture it on before it escapes, or pen and paper on the desk.

For completeness..........

The first of the utility bills has arrived, so palpitations and dark thoughts - not today, though, as Dianne is excited to receive guests this afternoon and I've almost made it to another weekend, so Della may visit.

More regrets - I'll never draw anything worth hanging on a wall, take a great photograph, write anything readable, failed the family and myself etc. etc.