Perous Secret Diary - Keep Out: September 14, 2006

garnier

i watched half of 'jarhead' on my laptop before giving in to sleep last night/this morning.
i stayed in london alone...

drove over to west london this morning and met georgina for breakfast.

then we went shopping in shepherds bush market.
georgina was amused at how uncomfortable i was being there.
it's like nowhere else.
i declined the 'under the counter' schnide nike tracksuits.
but got some 'so wrong they're right' t-shirts and a very fine 'pride of africa' tri-colour jacket.

drove back into london central and struggled for hours in 'country' style shops.
learning about and trying on plus fours, plus twos, breeches etc...
i will NOT look like chris eubank...i refuse to.

had lunch a SH.

and drove back to our farm(house) in kent.
it took as long to go from parliment sqaure to the blackwall tunnel as it did to go from the blackwall tunnel to home.

i'm becomming increasingly upset about 'delays' in life: waiting for things to happen: automated answer machines, computers, moron shop assistants, debit card refferals etc...people going    s    l      o          w.

i feel like i'm on speed and things isn't keeping up.
this was compounded further today by those 'random' security checks on my debit card which made every purchase REALLY painful.

i swear kate bush has got a track on her last album about a washing machine...
i love her.

i love a lot of people...

anyway...i'm home.
it feels GREAT to be back.

mick and ginger have cleared the orchard of the apple and pear windfalls in my absence.
(10 wheelbarrow loads apparently).
next year we'll be on the fruit collecting better.

mick and ginger were at the 'dog and donkey' by the time i got back, but the guy that runs it was upstairs ill in bed.
i called out 'hello?'
and a frail voice from upstairs (that sounded just like reg's) said ' i'm not open: i had a fall and i can't get downstairs. i've been in hospital for 7 weeks.'
'do you need anything?' i said.
'ur...no...but thankyou for asking...come back in a fortnight or so'.
it was very strange speaking to a frail voice from upstairs.
it really could have been reg.

mick and ginger were poking around the grounds outside, finding morris minors etc rusted through and with trees growing through them.
weird place.
smelly house.
a lot like reg's lock-up.


this picture is one picture: not two pictures next to each other...