Bredonborough Rising to a beeping
10.47
Bredonborough.
Rising to a beeping fire alarm: fortunately, only a dying battery or smoke alarm.
Morning reading…
Taking breakfast up for the Minx and WillyFred, and into the Cellar for e-fury.
The non-industrial dispute, King Crimson, travel plans, The Thomas de Hartmann Project, plus.
Interesting to reflect: it is now rare that a day brings with it a piece of grief, carrying angst and animosity, to be immediately addressed. Surprising, from today’s viewpoint, to acknowledge the everyday level of various forms of antagonism, deception and resentment which has characterised my daily (mostly professional) life for, well, at least since 1970. Something changed around March 2012. Perhaps partly an outcome of retiring from the life of the working player, partly being an OAP: being nasty to an old person is to reveal ourselves as graceless. Perhaps having paid enough dues, dealt with enough not-quite-proper chaps, engaged with persons holding fantastical and unreal perceptions of themselves and their aspirations, going further than I am able to go on an ongoing basis for decades, I am now able to say: this is something I can embrace; and this is something which may be for you, but not for me.
Simply put, my life is closer to Paradise than I might reasonably hope for. The danger with Paradise: we fall asleep in the wonderfulness of it all. At that point, time to bring out The Pointed Stick.
12.25 Preparing lunch for the Minx, who has just set off for her meetings and show tonight in Brighton…
A good-looking Autumn day…
18.12 An afternoon computing, an evening computing ahead.
22.10 WillyFred is awaiting adoration.
