Thursday, January 18, 2024

Walking and Writing

I have written a lot of stuff- I'm not sure how much of that is songs though. 

I've walked seven miles today, heard a woodpecker in the distance and saw and heard a massive khaki-coloured troop-carrier helicopter, a reminder of doomy reality. It's hiding in the branches of this sunny photograph.

Further on, a group of misogynists in hi-vis were in the railway yard, loudly mocking women by putting on squeaky voices and roaring with laughter; hi-audio too, you could say. One of them caught sight of me walking past and broke off to say 'Good Morning' in a very polite manner. Once I'd gone round the corner they carried on. How strange to be a dignified interruption of the morning's repartee!

Then a gull tried to nick my cardamom roll when I went into town. It was so chilly that I'd followed the sun into the car park, and was enjoying the feast when the gull landed a few feet away and started to stalk me. It stretched its beak open- that's how I knew it was going to make a play for the cardamom roll. Then it moved round to my side and attacked. Luckily the hood of my duffel coat (I'm so Michael Foot!) got in the way. I didn't give it a second chance. I walked back into the safety of the street to eat the rest of it. Honestly, there are still plenty of fish in the sea for the bloody gulls. I think.

Just now, a group of people were doing a ritual in the graveyard outside the window; I think they may have been re-enactors because some of them didn't look fully committed. I tried to film them but they were over to one side and now they've disappeared behind the yew trees.

I've also seen the first Archimedes Screw of my life, which I'd dismissed as random sploshing by the weir until I wandered off the path. It was pretty impressive, and was spiralling away even though there was no audience to watch it. All that hard work and nobody clapping. Sad.

What a mildly surreal week this has been. Here's an illustration plate from a lovely old dogeared book that was languishing on a wooden shelf in the café. It's an instruction manual for women, Every Woman's Enquire Within, and is full of tips and hints to keep you in your place (the home). I'm thinking of getting it reprinted and handing it out to the misogynists in the railway yard next time I'm here.




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