Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter


Day 340

Yesterday, M and I were shivering upstairs in the house while we were working (this house is odd that way; it’s warmer downstairs than upstairs), so I ordered the two cheapest matching oodies I could find. They arrived today, while I was at acupuncture, so I tried mine on as soon as I got home. They. Are. Warm. Very pleased about that. And the warmth they generate lasts quite a long time after taking them off, too, which is even better. I don’t need to worry about sitting in this cold corner of the room any more. And it means we can keep the heating quite low, too. Nothing skinflintish about that.

I got a nice email today from J about how she’s been reading my blog just about all year. I’m not going to quote it all back to you and myself – let’s just say it meant a lot to me. She was wondering what will happen next year. I still haven’t made my mind up about that, and probably won’t until 31st December. Speaking of which, I haven’t worked on Aggie since Sunday, and she’s desperate for me to get to the end. So much to do. On that note, my acupuncturist told me I’m the only person she knows who can give relatively exact timings for what they do at any given time of the day, a sign, she said, of a man who does too much and doesn’t give himself any leeway. She also asked me if I ever listened to people who told me I did too much and to slow down. I suppose everyone knows what my answer to that was. I do know. And I will start listening.

I’ve now got Not Nul Points 2022 down to 25 tracks. I need to get rid of one of those tracks for it to fit on one CD, and I just can’t make my mind up which one is going to have to go. I’m listening to the entire selection while I’m writing this, and it is, as always, a difficult call to make. Not helped by the fact that I’ve listened to them all so often the last few days that they’re all on the verge of going in the bin. This is what comes of playing so much new music every week. I was saying to A the other day in the car that it would be great to just have the time and inclination to focus on one artist and listen to an entire album for once. It will happen.

I have got a half-written poem in my journal that I started earlier, but never got round to finishing, although I’d originally thought of putting another poem up. It’ll have to wait, or just wither on its vine like many half-started poems of mine do. I had once, and I may have said this before, started a separate journal called The Rewrites in which I’d planned to rewrite a lot of poems from my youth and to complete the innumerable unfinished poems that are sitting in my innumerable journals. Another thing to do.

Anyway, I want to sit in front of the telly and slob for a while. Aggie, meanwhile, dances in my head.

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