Day 137
There are juvenile thrushes in the trees. They scream continuously and are scaring the older cat who likes to come down to the bottom of the garden to drink out… Continue Reading
Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter
There are juvenile thrushes in the trees. They scream continuously and are scaring the older cat who likes to come down to the bottom of the garden to drink out… Continue Reading
Yesterday was an odd day. I felt totally lethargic for most of it, even wrote a poem about how the greyness seemed to be sucking the life out of me…. Continue Reading
In the end, Ukraine won Eurovision by a wide margin. After the jury votes, it seemed touch and go, but in the end the result was the one we had… Continue Reading
Last night, I went to bed thinking about Aggie and how things might progress from yesterday’s chapter. Interestingly enough, although I have, in the past, dreamed whole long chapters of… Continue Reading
When I got back home late yesterday afternoon, it felt like I’d been away for 30 days not 30 hours. Seriously exhausted, stomach not right, I couldn’t wait until the… Continue Reading
London. Early morning. An aeroplane overhead every couple of minutes. I do remember it being like this, when I did this regularly every other month, being away from home overnight… Continue Reading
Off to London later. It will be my first in-person board meeting for 26 months to the date. It’s difficult to understand where those 26 months have gone, because it… Continue Reading
When I started this, I didn’t realise how difficult it would be to write each day, and to hope it wouldn’t become boring or banal. Maybe it is both already…. Continue Reading
Day job has had to be priority since I got up, so am a bit late with this for a week day. So, in haste… M and I went to… Continue Reading
GT has given me his memory of the Avignon episode, so the reconstruction now runs something like this: I started writing the poem after seeing her, got three verses done,… Continue Reading