the bus back.

Boxing off one house to move to Ruby's with Archie tomorrow, but just come to BAE for a espresso. No book and not prevaricating - mum want some dog food for Lola so I with head there after this, pick up Archie and his kibble then head back to 42.

The dryness of everything: there is no pasture or its heavenly bounty in August, this year. Some dark clouds pass by but are unaffected by it. The new East Leeds Orbital Road is open amongst these grey skies. All the way to Leeds to feel nothing and for there to be no mail of any consequence. The mounds of rubbish pile higher and higher in Leeds and it seems not to bother any of the folks wrapped up in their lives. I left as soon as I was capable. The hopelessness of it...

***

Archie is a sweet boy. I introduced him to Lola's bed last night, in mum's front room, and he was there asleep this morning at 6. The chance to sleep in, until 6, staying on 42 without the interruptions of North Street, and from today Ruby's home on Chestnut Avenue where no sounds of the main road ever enter my subconscious. It feels like a task completed. I've to return on Thursday to clean up while I await the Gross's return from Bulgaria who think they will be back around 7.

Hopped off the bus in Wetherby, needing the toilet, and picked up some chips and curry sauce from The Frying Pan, then took Archie out for half an hour up to the old A1 and a chance for him to clear his bladder and boweos for another day. Quite peaceful.