I am now a

Sunflower. Now that I've forgotten what I answered the first time I took the fun quiz again. The questions seem to assume women will answer. What, aren't men gardeners too?

Silence

Chaos

     Mmm . . . any books here I'd disown or be ashamed for having on my shelves? Some I've lugged around for nearly forty years . . .

     I did a quick dust but no rearranging . . . I mean organizing. Choking from the smoke  of a prescribed burn gone a bit wild; I think I've been spending too much time in my own company lately . . . I missed all the sensational news about gunmen going berserk . . .

Chalked up fifty-nine so . . .

today is the first day of my sixtieth year . . .

Lazy day

There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them. - Joseph Brodsky


I'd better get on and do some more reading then. I'm two thirds of the way through re-reading Lanark 

Hooray for podcasts et cetera . . .

   I have a dirty secret to confess. I listen to BBC Radio 4 that bastion of middle-brow England. It gets worse: I listen to The Archers. But this morning I was really happy because Roger McGough is back with a new series of listeners' requests for Poetry Please. I also listened to Melvyn Bragg and guests discussing Thomas Aquinus on In Our Time. 

   For a dose of nostalgia I browse BBC 7 and find some of the programmes I heard when I was young: Beyond Our Ken, Round the Horne, The Clitheroe Kid, The Goon Show, Journey into Space, The Navy Lark,  ITMA (It's That Man Again, Jimmy Handley) and a few more I don't recall at the moment.

    Oh frabjous joy, calloo callay, I found the code that makes indents display. And now I've made a nonsense of that (almost) couplet by editing previous posts . . .

Day two

    Just a personal note: played hammered dulcimer much of the day. Guitar class in the evening. I felt like myself today . . . whoever that is . . . I play some more with this tomorrow. And tomorrow I may have something to say . . .

Seeking

    Doing this on the wing . . . a scramble to think of a title for these musings . . . Hello I am here. Where is "here"? Is it where you are now, the physical location? Is it where you are in the space/time continuum? A life stretches time; time as memory. What of the future?

    I started this to record a forthcoming visit to England to attend my niece's wedding . . . and see old friends and do some bell-ringing.