It’s Sunday. I’ve spent all day – and it was a crisp, bright and sunny day – lounging around reading Mike Arram’s ‘The Green Side.’ Finally, I put down my eReader; I was going to go for a walk. I looked out and to my chagrin the day had gone.
So, this is what I would have seen had I gone for a trot.
You can pick who you live with, but, unless you’re very rich, you can’t pick your neighbours. I rent a small semi-detached bungalow. It’s pretty close to the bottom of a hill in Sussex in an area prone to flooding.
The place next door was empty for ages – which was nice as the cats could retire to snooze under a beautiful weeping willow (now so heavily pruned it’s cringing with embarrassment – but that’s another story).
The chap who eventually bought it decided he needs off road parking. So this is what he’s now doing.
I was going to put up another bleak picture of the beach but I thought it was too cheerless and, well, bleak. So here’s a cheery flag to look at.
The Rainbow flag means a lot more than just being a bright, cheerful, colourful and uplifting image. People all over the world – people just like you and me – are being tortured and sometimes murdered because of their sexuality. Why? And who cares about other peoples sexuality?
Here’s a poem I wrote a while ago.
What I do with my cock is my business
It’s consensual, it’s my choice, it’s my private affair
You read your scripture; I don’t poke your eyes out
Leave me alone – you don’t like me, think I care?
The tenets you follow are the same for us all
Be good to your neighbour, don’t covet or kill
So get on with your life and leave me to mine
We all have blood; to live with, not spill.
Went for a walk on the beach. It was bleak, but the conversation I had with Mick was light, frothy and cheerful. We haven’t been for a walk in an age and I didn’t realise how much I missed it. So I took this on my phones camera. It’s apt, I think; certainly more so than a wide shot or a picture of the carpet cleaning in the studio.
It snows so rarely over here that when it does the country grinds to a halt. The end of 2010 was a shock to all, especially those trying to fly off on their Christmas holidays. Birds didn’t fare well, either, as you can see from the hump of snow covering the bird table.
Now, in January, I’m missing it. It was an adventure and those are rare too.