There is more information coming, higgledy, piggledy.

When I come to sort this lot out, I may put it into more accessible order – who knows?  I do as I like as far as I like – this is what I am practising these days.

This is for real, you know.

It’s not tit-for-tat.

It’s not you-do-for-me and then I-do-for-you.

It’s not some posh networking.

Let’s get real, I could say, but I used that word back there.

Let’s tell-it-like-it-is, I could say, but I’ve never understood what that phrase means, and the first time I heard it, a guy who later gave me some huge trouble used it – along with a high-five which – I didn’t know what that was – it was a new-out expression – oh, come on –

I’d say – how-?-can-you-get (lost the word there) – but it was new-out then – one of those cool-things.  ‘Cool’ is all right in its own circumstances, but I – if I’m honest – I’m not so keen on ‘cool’ – very much because I feel the heat, in fact, more often than not –

Here I am.

It is quarter past eight or thereabouts, in the morning – I’m not looking at my watch on this occasion – the exact time no longer always signifies in particular – 

I get sick, sometimes, of using the same old words, don’t you?

But they fit with where I am now – and I suppose, without me having noticed it, this has turned into one of those early-morning (just got up) free-flows of writing, which are useful – they empty your mind, and show you where you are – words splash on to the page – unexpected ones, sometimes – it’s almost like taking a cold bath, except that I never take those.


A splash of hot tears – that is more like it.

Indulgence hardly comes into this.

Necessity is the King – and now I know for definite where I am.


I’m pretty much not sure what to write next, so disrupted do I feel.

The insomnia, yes – but that was a three-pronged point of culmination.  I had a cold.  It was a worse cold than I’d had for some time.  Colds were doing the rounds.  It was a knock-out one where I’d go for a ‘little lie-down’ and – bang – I’d be away, sleeping for hours.  And then again – I’d go and lie down and – bang –

My lack of consciousness over this was weird – I didn’t seem to learn from past – recent – experience.  It was as though the cold itself took over – if I’d been out in the street I’d have dropped down –

No.  I exaggerate.

But it was a strong cold.

And I couldn’t eat!

I ‘made myself’ eat, but the spoonful of cauliflower cheese in the middle of a vast plate – it looked alien, as though it could never belong to me, never become a part of me.

Oh – all this only lasted in its ferocity for a few days – but it did put me out – and then there was a long recovery of a few weeks where a sore breathing tube extended its distress to my chest from which . . .

Sorry.  (Got to apologise.)  You probably feel sick with all this detail.

Maybe that was why, with all that sleeping over two or three days – yes, that, I see, saved to the other extreme – insomnia, full blown, for three nights running –

I’m making this up as I go along but I think it sounds plausible – maybe that was it.

I’m in the process of filling in my old pond in the garden.

There is a lack of soil but the two pot-ponds are almost in, and I have discovered, at the other end, a lined sunken bit that was going to be, I remember now, my bog garden.

That didn’t exactly work out all those years ago – which reminds me – I did have a candleabra-whatsit-whatsit there – looks like I’ve lost it.

You can’t harbour them all.

Anyway – there was compacted soil in that dread spot, which I have dug out, and put in some of the old-pond space.

I have many and varied pebbles from a (nearby) sands, which should not have been taken, but there was the cat then, and the fish in the water, and something of a barrier had to be made between the two – but I am getting into my history too much – that is already written – somewhere.  I need large coffers – no, that’s not quite it – chests – to keep my writing pages in – yes – I have it all on paper as well as on USB sticks and on the computer-proper – no, it’s a desktop –