where did summer go?


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It is the last day of August and how life has changed of late. Thursday morning, just before 9. But not the usual rush where is my laptop, which shoes today, is it cold outside to leave the house. No, I could sip coffee in bed because I am unemployed. I wrote a letter, using a pen. Then took photos of it and e-mailed it to save time. My washing machine broke. It has been another strange day.


But other than that it has mainly been business as usual. Earlier this week, Monday night, it was down to the Tap and Spile on Spring Bank - an old fashioned Hull pub - to see Emma. And it was wet and dark, but Emma was in good spirits. And although a potential trip to France to gig with Aeria fell through due to unforseen debts (and now my washing machine has broken down too), we had a good chat about doing something similar soon. With plans, and dates set up and cheap tickets booked in advance.


And thanks Emma for standing outside for seemingly three hours waiting for the taxi that you called for us. At least we met this kitten. Den took a picture with my camera, but I don't think he will remember very clearly...


So, at the end of this strange day, what else is there to do other than listen to clunky Icelandic analogue house music just loud enough to be noticed by neighbours who have spend all week hammering in their bathroom? Perhaps time for an early night?


1 Responses to “where did summer go?”

  1. Anonymous Anonymous 

    I think the summer went on holiday because of the crappy weather here...

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about me

Weeks and months turn into years and who knows what surprises a new day will bring? As shelves fill with more songs, dust collects, memories accumulate and we pass through the lives of others, sometimes pausing, sometimes pulling up a chair, sometimes moving on. Thinking that tomorrow is going to be like yesterday. What do we know? I just like words and pictures, so why make excuses for collecting those either? But some things will never change, the sad songs will always be the best ones.

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