Wednesday bleeds across this blank screen with a more than heavy sigh...the week has been crazy, Goblins in pink laced hob nailed boots have given me a good kicking most nights after all these years i should be used to the tiny mites yet they always shock running amok in the crazy streets of my mind...with dreams so far fetched not even Godzilla in lace panties and stockings would surprise me...
However tomorrow is big money time Valentines Day driven by the red engine of gate crashing tills in supermarkets red roses on the march no doubt grown and tended by folk with holes in their shorts and bare feet and paid a mere few pennies for their efforts...Some one i once luved many years ago said they posted a card to me...it never arrived i remember haunting the post box it was sent from and the letter box on the front door where i once lived,each year hence it still irks the mind...i recall an old crone saying on her door step one year that she never received any and would dearly luv one..it did pass my mind to shove one in the post the following year alas her husband passed away and she moved further down the village to be near the shops and people....soon after....life sometimes is a spank the Elephant road..Sometimes being a postie gets under ones skin and you can walk down a from a front door quite disquiet of some of the secrets whispered across the threshold...
Have been wallowing in Sam Lee's..rendition of Lovely Molly recorded at the BBC folk awards 2016...it sprang from my i-pod thsi morning whilst hanging back the wardrobe doors after the week's fight with the paint brush..think i am going to pull on my walking boots next week some warped heat is coming our way most unusal for the Manchester Basin perhap the promised sunshine from OZ...is going to shock me...therefore watch this space....Take care all and make the best of the day tomorrow...what ever mood craps at you when the day dawns...So Goeth...
However tomorrow is big money time Valentines Day driven by the red engine of gate crashing tills in supermarkets red roses on the march no doubt grown and tended by folk with holes in their shorts and bare feet and paid a mere few pennies for their efforts...Some one i once luved many years ago said they posted a card to me...it never arrived i remember haunting the post box it was sent from and the letter box on the front door where i once lived,each year hence it still irks the mind...i recall an old crone saying on her door step one year that she never received any and would dearly luv one..it did pass my mind to shove one in the post the following year alas her husband passed away and she moved further down the village to be near the shops and people....soon after....life sometimes is a spank the Elephant road..Sometimes being a postie gets under ones skin and you can walk down a from a front door quite disquiet of some of the secrets whispered across the threshold...
Have been wallowing in Sam Lee's..rendition of Lovely Molly recorded at the BBC folk awards 2016...it sprang from my i-pod thsi morning whilst hanging back the wardrobe doors after the week's fight with the paint brush..think i am going to pull on my walking boots next week some warped heat is coming our way most unusal for the Manchester Basin perhap the promised sunshine from OZ...is going to shock me...therefore watch this space....Take care all and make the best of the day tomorrow...what ever mood craps at you when the day dawns...So Goeth...
