Day 292
The door is fixed, after a fashion. M pointed out that not only was the original handle fixture non-standard, the door’s thickness is, too. We knew we were buying a… Continue Reading
Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter
The door is fixed, after a fashion. M pointed out that not only was the original handle fixture non-standard, the door’s thickness is, too. We knew we were buying a… Continue Reading
The saga of the door handle continues. It now appears we have the only non-standard door handle fitting in the UK, if not the world. This means drilling a new… Continue Reading
I made the mistake, last night, after Frozen Planet II, after BBC 2’s Hans Zimmer doco, after Stanely Tucci’s trekking round Umbria In Search Of Italy, after all that, of a) thinking… Continue Reading
Today, I have been resting. Although my mind and body rebel against doing such a thing. I watched the BBC’s wonderful programme about TS Eliot’s The Waste Land. It reminded… Continue Reading
I must be feeling better. I have done a full day’s work, albeit very slowly. I shaved mid-afternoon. I have taken out the recycling and the rubbish, both of which… Continue Reading
Worse still than yesterday. Perhaps I’m expecting too much. It took me 3 hours to deal with 4 or 5 emails this morning. I took to the sofa for the… Continue Reading
Worse. I have slept most of the day. No energy. Weird dreams; of cricket, of babies, of puppies, and villages with streets too narrow to squeeze through.
Places I tried to sleep last night: our bed (unsuccessful), at the dining room table (unsuccessful), on the sofa under two blankets listening to my Aggie playlist (partially successful for… Continue Reading
I’m sitting in the garden in the glorious sun after having stuffed myself full of breakfast cake, a double espresso, lots of water, vitamins and paracetamol. Although I feel dreadful,… Continue Reading