Remember Rain and Records, wait till tomorrow.
That’s when the good bit comes, I can’t believe that I had more on Q than for R, I can barely think of any words beginning with R; that marks me out as a remarkably foolish chap.
The one thing which sticks in my mind as a young child was the rain. We lived in a small cottage in a twee Leicestershire village; Foxton. Look it up, its famous. Anyway I remember rain often at Mum and Dads house. I’m sure it didn’t rain all the time, or indeed any more than it rains now. But, I do recall spending a lot of time looking out of the window at the plants when it rained. I remember the way the leaves were buffeted to and fro, matt side, shiny side, the rain lubricating the glistlenation of the leaves. The big leaves of the big shrub Dad planted the week before showing the top, underside, top, underside over and over. My cat Pilgrim was also there, sat next to me at the back window in the lounge, keeping an eye on things.
I know this letter is probably tenuous and not what you wanted BUT… it’s my blog and I can do what I want; not quite all killer no filler; there’s probably a little. I liked to spend all my money on records, vinyl, buying these made me feel in control . Its making a come back, vinyl, but I really don’t think it went away. Its a medium through which sound travels.
The bed is the medium through which I plan to guard. Tomorrow will be a good one, its all planned out.