Do you remember the time you had to do that thing. That was exactly what you had to do. It was an empty day. An organised day. A simple day. There was what to do and that was all. For a long time now there has been a space that has been a long time ago. There has been this space and finally it filled with boxes. The boxes were not mine but that bwas long ago the space they filled for a long time. Interminable. Ad then it ended. All the boxes went away. Jane came and collected all her boxes. That was all she was doing. To come down and collect. And only leave one box behind.
Mother was walking the dog, and the dog was barking at the river. She says she looked in the river and after seeing how high the level was, she saw a white plastic bucket chair floating. And on the top edge of it a red balloon with a black face painted on it had got caught. She saw a white chair , but she thought she saw a body. White and bloated with a swollen black face, she got quite ba shock. The river was running high. Rhubarb is cheaper this week than last. And finally the chair floated off down the river faster than she could walk because the river was high. And the dog barked at it too. And so it must have been later she was walking along the river and she sawe a white chair stranded by the bank, and the dog hardly even barked at it, so it can't have been as frightening by then.
I suppose because AIDS is relevant now because it is here. The problems for people being informed are mostly because of sex. It always does seem to get in the way. Yet at the moment the greatest number of new infections with HIV are as a result of intra-venous drug abuse. Dirty equipment, shared needles. A very small quantity of blood is enough if it is injected straight into the bloodstream. It is theoretically possible to pick up the virus from soliva, but it occurs there very weakly and in a semi-dormant state. It is estimated that it would take one and a half litres of saliva to risk infecting somebody.
The age of the hippy is gone. We now have the age of the yuppie. Now it has been popularised the real yuppies have moved on. What is left are the nothing people who want to be seen to be yuppies. The followers. The not very people. Nothing. They have followed on. Eroded the path and worn away the traces. Tread out the lines. Those who stop at traffic lights and immediately pick up their mobile telephones. Who sit in the trains with them. A man sits in a dirty seat in a non-smoking comopartment. He gets out his telephone and pretends to be selling on the stock market. A train is delayed forty minutes in the middle of nowhere. A man telephones his wife to tell her where he is, and to come and collect him. He opens the door and jumps out.
I went to collect Bob in the car. Travelling in a car is a strange thing. Speaking is not the same thing. It is less than communication. It does not involve. It is cold and empty. The club door oopens and closes again and again for the cold wind. To entice the cold wind in. It opens and closes. Angela is followed here by her employer. Then the telephone rings later to see if she is here. It is Angela's employers. She lodges with them. And she will probably lose her job because she has come out to a gay nightclub and they did not know. She will probably lose her job and her room. All her posessions may be on the path waiting for her. To follow. But to follow. John went up to London with Stuart to stay with a friend. They walked across Hampstead Heath. He said that half way across the heath all the furtive men jumped out of the bushes. He said he could have laughed out loud uit was so funny. And he walked ion but Stuart chose to stay. Just recounting it made me laugh. And then I drove Bob home. travelling in a car is really not the same at all in talking to someone. When he is back in his home he is different and I am different. Dianne and Sally have been waiting there. They are in no hurry to leave. Wine and consider it well. Bob is at last able to talk freely to Dianne and I occupy Sally's attention to make sure they are left to reassure each other. Perhaps things are lkess accidental than they seem. Context changes everything. Noticeably sometimes sometimes not. Talking for a long time can help by many ways. Thinking of it initially in th old interventionalist way of breaking down old outgrown barriers. But perhaps that is not as good as seeing it as using time to build new platforms out of the less stable opinions. Building new bases. Setting up more advanced advance posts. Validating new positions. Working through the change. It seems that now the clocks go forward again hours ago. So now it is officiallt six thuirty a.m. and time to go to bed. Sometimes talking for a long time takes a long time. But then you get what you have. It is pale light and very beautiful and gentle. Thrushes are singing into the breaking dawn.
So Sunday sleeps and meets Abutilon people almost by accident. And so finally I end up making less than conventional nest boxes. And Jane wants to know why they are not as conventional. But I can see that they would be more comfortable.
To see Barry is no surprise. A man with trousers too short. Move it around until it is right. miove it all around. It is peculiarly productive in a strange sort of way. A yellowish cotton mat printed with pale grey was seen as yellow by me and grey by Barry so he places it with his blue-grey furniture. It offends me to see it but Barry still sees it all as grey. The watering needs doing and the late Hostas are coming up erratically.
The drill bits I borrowed are cheap and they bend easily. Cas pays an unsteady visit because I am so tired. So Pete pays a visit for information. Rumours are spreading and hiding the facts and adding nothing. Speaking to mother somehow she manages to spread words of tea and chocolate cake. Dead floating bnodies or not. joking because it isn't. Joking about a nervous breakdown because it isn't a joke. No time placed so carefully it can be overlooked safely. Rely upon it. strange to be so long ago to talk to her. The orchid is flowering again.
Vietnamese pot bellied piglets make good pets. They are black and hairy. Who needs a dog when you can have a pig to bark at floating chairs.