At the End of the Day

So anyway, there I was at 06:30 hrs, wide awake and ready for action. First on my to-do list was the opening chapter of the next novel. Second was the destruction of neoliberal capitalism via the medium of blogging. But just before that – briefly – it was important to clear away last night’s dishes. And put the week’s washing in the machine.

Oh, and while I was about it, persuade the new printer to talk to the old router and agree on my wifi configuration plus IP address.

And of course, open my emails to see if there was anything urgent. Like, for example, the debate with about why the camera chargers they sent me don’t work. Or the latest demand from the HMRC relating to a tax year when I was resident in France.

Immediately prior to getting that vital Chapter 1 first sentence dead right, it occurred to me that I should look at how the Shanghai Composite was doing, and then having seen it plunge again to wonder how the other markets were reacting. Chances are the blog that resulted was 95% read by those who are quite happy for neoliberal bourse bollocks to continue, and the last thing they want is its destruction.

I was just opening Microsoft Word (and fitting the Dongle into D-Drive for secure backup non-cloud saving) when I received a text to say that the satellite internet system I’d ordered was in progress and moving forward, going forward. This prompted me to walk outside and double-check there were no trees in the way of the parabola coordinates, but on doing so I remembered that the old wild rose at the back of the restored barn needed attention. So I collected clippers; gloves and a vicious Stihl saw to have at it.

Sweaty and tired an hour later, the novelist manqué glanced at his watch and saw the time was 11 am, and so it was time to zip down to the pharmacy and put in my new prescription. And, on the way, dump the rubbish in the poubelle while recycling the glass and plastic containers taking up an overcrowded corner of the kitchen.

On the way back, I stopped off in the village to buy an avocado and some bread, engage a neighbour in conversation, and frequent the butcher’s Friday stall for a morsel of weekend meat. I thought of pork, and this set me to thinking about pork swords and hogs’ mouths, so by the time I got back to the ranch a minor satire about fracking and David Cameron was half-formed. It insisted on being written and posted, so who was I to refuse?

The internet failed again as I was tagging the post, so I made a cup of hot chocolate and wandered out into the by now pleasantly warm Autumn sunshine. Hearing the pool filter switch itself on, I was reminded that the system hadn’t been backwashed or rinsed for a few days, so I attended to that. From there it was but a short walk to the lounger and the desire to, you know, just rest those weary eyes for a few minutes. It was impossible to settle, and after a few minutes I recognised the jiffly feeling as hunger.

Three slices of toast and some fig jam later, I reconnected the internet which had, as usual, sorted itself out. I posted the Cameron piss-take, and then heard the local church bells ringing out the noon toll. It was obviously time for a beer, which – let’s face it – I richly deserved.

There are few things nicer than sipping beer by the pool while watching a cloud-flecked spectacular rural view stretching all the way to the horizon, but the downside of doing this is that one notices the grass around the pool needs cutting. Forty minutes and another beer later, I was developing seriously leaden eyelids, and so retired to the hammock.

When I awoke two hours later, there was a fully-fledged Chapter 1 opening sentence in my brain, but my eyesight noticed that the Ash hedge was in severe need of re-twining and chopping. After that, I felt the need for a restoring chicken pie and more beer. These were duly prepared and consumed respectively.

Now I’m sitting here typing this, and still the novel hasn’t been started. As Margaret Thatcher knew only too well, property ownership is the biggest single obstacle on Earth in the way of revolution. Well, that and beer. And blogging.

12 thoughts on “At the End of the Day

  1. Isn’t the standard equipment of the writer a moleskin notebook that has a little pencil attached to it? The little one that would fit in a gentleman’s back pocket.

    Those moments of inspiration are all too fleeting, and are all but impossible to recall later (and it’s not the lack of meds affecting my memory either).


  2. How about ‘A gentleman in possession of a fortune is in need of a servant’? Or ‘It was the worst of times, it was the best…’ Or ‘There is a tide in the affairs of man which taken at the flood….’ Or ‘I wandered lonely as a …..’ Or ‘Bon Dieu, j’en ai marre! Je vais boire un whisky…’ which I believe was Hemingway – or was it Sartre?


  3. Your day JW sounds like a day at work for the majority, not productive just playing around on smartphones underemployed on the minimum wage. Was only ever possible when the level of support in the economy by the population is tiny compared to the vast numbers stated by the banksters.

    If the real support for the economy for a single citizen was so high the population could effect the economy poisitively but it would contradict the planned beneficial management of banksters so now impossible.

    Ergo the future, 100% of the population undermeployed on the minimum wage paid for by government borrowing provided it is < 2% and we have growth to cover the interest on the debt YOY then minimum wage serfdom here we come.


  4. Exactly why I stick to writing Short Stories rather than novels JW…..even if, through procrastination, some take up to six months to finish, at least I get to find out what happens to all my characters in the end…..novels are too risky, I might peg out first….and think how frustrating that would be, not knowing what becomes of them all, at yer last gasp :)


  5. You purchase “things” because you believe you need them to accomplish some other goals or because you believe that the mere possession of these objects will bring happiness. Then you discover that the possession of objects means you have to care for them. which means work. Speaking for myself I purchased tools because I believed the possession of tools would enable me to accomplish ,more work more efficiently. and that more tools would enable me to do work for others that would result in remuneration. Then I discovered that tools meant finding more places to store them and as the tools got more and more complicated, spending more and more time and money on their repair and maintenance. Presently I have lots of Tools that are either under repair or are needing more repair Including one backhoe, and two cranes which are inoperative awaiting repairs, and a tracked loader operating but still needing some repair and two forklifts both undergoing repair and one house that needs extensive repairs and one new shop building under construction and and two shop buildings that need repair,two airplanes that to earn their keep need frequent repairs, and a large variety of machine tools in various states of repair, and one man of 66 years (me) who is fairly worn out and could use a few repairs also. Add to that three sons, one who has begun to understand the mechanics of all this ownership mania( having spent considerable time repairing his own stuff) and two others who regard this old man ( me) as mainly some sort of employment institution, or money tree. My daughter has distanced herself( she thought) from all this mania by marrying a wonderful man only to discover that he all along had a secret mania of his own to spend much of his little free time giving life to old Jeeps. the Jeeps rewarded all his attention by continually finding new ways to break down requiring yet more repairs. .To be fair my other two sons are now discovering that the joys of ownership are tempered by the facts that things always break, and thus require time and money to fix. I am hoping that all three of mys sins will discover, as cave men did eons ago that collaborative cooperation in getting sufficient quantities of all our machines up to at least functional condition, is the best way to proceed without thinking about immediate repayment for the work but looking at this in terms of future enjoyment of the other things, money and transportation and recreation, that these machines can give them. I am also hoping they realize the need for this before I collapse completely.


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