Epiphany

Everyday repeats. Get what repeats correct.

To get this day correct.

The sun shines and the gulls bask in the late afternoon glow.

And I drank beer.

***

Mike from Bad Vilbel in Germany, the guy who stayed with me before COVID and who made a film about Jenny the Arabian mare in Fechenheim, sent me a greeting card with two images of Jenny on it and wished me to keep my spirit. He's a good man. A genuine man who I'd really like to visit soon. We have a Camino to walk along.

***

I don't want to waste my 50th birthday. Really it doesn't mean anything at all reaching half a century? I guess in centuries gone by it was some real achievement when the life expectancy could be as low as 25 years of age?

Achievement? That's silly. Is becoming a Gerontion, with absent teeth, sore bones, arthritis in knuckles and losing eyesight, as well as losing my hair and going grey, an achievement?

***

What is my current purpose? This is possibly the most nonsensical question I can ask myself. I am still staring blankly at a tall and wide, and unassailable, obstacle: my perception of reality.

***

It's raining without and I can hear a wind creeping along the guttering of the back extension: this might not be a long dog walking morning if it remains so? Lola is not a fan of wet weather. I think no dog is, but some have fur which keeps them warm and dry: that little girl prefers to snuggle on days like today.

Yesterday I delivered Lola and a single LFT, which Jason and Katherine gave me, to my sister and told her I'd pick Lola up at nine from Greenacres Court to take Lola for some fun.

But we're in the crippling grip of winter. The water table is high and everything is dank, damp, dirty and distressing. It's time to make breakfast...