WILLIE NELSON ON WAKING

Woke disturbed for the first time in a week or so. The waking dream was of my trying to speak to one of the sisters at the hospital and being greeted by Chris on the phone with impatience. So many months of precisely that. What a pain it has been – official help has been inefficient and minimal. Very often patronising and generic.

Now I am sitting in my living room with steamrollers and caterpillars  rumbling the house and street for a purpose known only to Council.

I don’t think I can even get the Pony and get out of here. They have dug up right to my front door. Near enough.

I was expecting a Bello Call this morning as well and that hasn’t come.

Today is not at all going as I would like. I can hang out the washing and chill. Things will change again. They surely will.

HANDS OFF AGAIN, LYNNE.

Hands off. Feels a bit like Bob Earle’s huddle in his basement wondering whether or not to leave his wife.

Give me a sign – says he to God.

I did, Bob – says God.

Something less would have sufficed, God.

Nothing less did, Bob.

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I am a a little bit of a loss today. I can’t get out. Its really noisy at home. My head is busy and I am at a loose end.  I do not like this much. Perhaps I will not start the next part of my day with Country Music. I listened to Willie Nelson on waking so now I have Andrew H’s “tear in the glass eye. “

 Turns out my Girl is sick with one of the migraines she suffers from. Poor wee lass.

The Council seems to be at Lunch and all is quiet on the Southern Front.

In the end , you just have to laugh. I shall have party pies for lunch. Then I shall go to bed on a hot electric blanket and read a Harry Dresden book.

Let the Workers Work !

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