And as usual despite those whom will do one down for an assumed 'rhythm' ....lesser... (she should know she has serious competition - Little Miss Dog Kennel.. even if that's likely more beauty over total sprit-appeal...)
Mine rhythm, is as always, come a sunny day, today....allays off to my fave riverside spot. Not even any mobile phone signal there no point, even the wisest of them all will just assume...
Now, the last of the 'now' pictures, like this second, now...
The sublimest stretch of hidden away byway ever, where the other....stuff..... gets uploaded. As it is the only good signal spot for miles too. Which is in fact the only reason I am here - not here here, nor alive here, just in such an always even more splendid than ever mood.
Even if of course spot the deliberate error in that January the first the gorse really really should not be flowering and even a whiff of natural scent is perceptible.
I mean there are dozens of new 'its' and i didn't even know of this one until only a few weeks ago. But i mean what a way to begin the most glorious (excepting every second ever spent with mine own lass, even the very few seconds over a decade that seemed like hours when so rarely things were a bit hard-work, that lengthening of the moment because it was all you ever actually cared about ever, and every second spent with Katrina's little nippers, as... they did from second number 1, actually change me..) year in history - except those kid-duty years of those seconds, every one i still remember.....just as i do all recall all of about 25000 seconds on a plane four years ago of me talking too much... which any sane woman knows is only when they are rather liked... for the right reasons.
Anyway where was I, oh yes....
I mean what a most glorious (minus codicils) year in history and just as this was being allowed out, the catastrophic gloriousness ("sorry Mister bank my business is buggered") came to pass in six weeks of unstopping torrential rain which provided then every single excuse a person could not even dream up, for basically saying the lot of you are lost and i wish never again to have any part of you, which one assumed would lead to almost instant homelessness... two years ago....
I mean ... it was simply impossible i would get away with that....
Then, to bhe only a few months later every day cycling no hands on the old sit-up-and-beg girlies bike .... on an even more deserted byway - this...
So free it is absurd, in the rent paying dept, too... but free in a far far more real-life way, fait accompli, a gift...
And the pictures i hjave are not really that poignant cos they are so absurdly freedom and sunshine every day...
And then there is the film... taken here Mayish 2020...
Anyway what a memory, and every single reason for knowing 2020 was certainly the most glorious year in history (usual cods..)
And that little footbridge - half a mile yonder from here. My new home not because i was not wanted at the old, but because, well, there are pictures...
Of paradise...
Both in the drives, and so deeply etched into the minds eye, it is the ultimate gift...
But i shall never forget the first time, wandering down to the riverspot, and she was there with her little ones playing in the mud...
I mean Huckleberry Fin meets Secret Garden meets Ring of Bright Water, and not a cynical Lord of The Flies in sight...
except those gathering on my sweaty bicycle seat being it was the warmest sunniest May ever in history... 2020...
But moaners will always be moaners so that is only for me to remember and smile (even today's iteration i mean what a bizarre New Years eve thing to happen...)
Moan: "... no... first time out.... t'wasn't that well presented... nahhhh hyped up bullshit.....all 'first's are overrated....
But on the 100th road testing listen and you have to have the most perfect zen and centred peace ever to really be able to say for absolute certainty "fuckit.... truth... better than any other version released ever.... Jeus what a year .... you even get the best ever this...:
...i mean fuck me..... this is absurd, even Mister Taleb and his third greatest book of this century in two words, Black Swan..... who wouldn't know self-pity if she jumped into the lake and mounted her [i have always assumed she was a she that day at that lake, then] with a large horsewhip and rode her off into the sunset in pain.....
"could not predict this reaction to .... their ...'shock'.... that's sustained throughout ebvery sexcond even the baddies.....no matter what..... and must be rit ...soon as ... the memory of it is real soulfood and i never uyse that silly word.....eeva..."
