September 6th 2018

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“School’s back for the Autumn”, the antithesis of Alice Cooper’s song, although I’m sure he would have approved of the toothy play fighting, on the green next to the bus stop, the kids waited for the bus to take them in, we waited to put them on the bus, the prospect of the first walk back for the full contingent of the ministry for over 6 weeks. And the dogs growled and barked playfully.

A little rain had fallen overnight making the ground slightly wetter than normal, prompting me to reassess my lack of wellington boots once more; I really need to get a pair, but I feel the planets need to be aligned, and if September is going to be for the most point dry, then I think I’ll hold off until October. N said he’s going to wear shorts for another 11 1/2 months. Are we going to permit stockings or tights or leggings underneath the shorts? I imagine we probably will do, its a challenge in itself and one I am truly excited to be a voyeur and bystander in.

With the boss on holiday, we feel a certain sense of lightness and freedom; no angry e-mails or accusatory telephone calls for the next week or so. We are tightly monitored regards meeting up as a disparate group of outlaws and feel as though we are when told that budgets cannot stretch to a few sandwiches and some coffee. Plus we are told there is no time, no time at all for meeting up, no time for supporting each other in these insanely busy times. We have to arrange meetings by text, paranoid our emails are being monitored, that out whatsapp groups are infiltrated by the wrong people. Working here really feels like we are win the French Resistance, like we have to go underground.

Maybe I’m just paranoid, possibly i’ve watched too many conspiracy films.

“There’s flat earther’s all around the globe”

“I’m not paranoid but I know you lot all think I am”

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The sun streamed through the branches and the trees this morning, the photo is obviously enhanced, but when you are out there it is really like that, the woods are alive right now, there’s stuff going on, the junky Muntjacs and Fucked Foxes chewing on the mushrooms, the badgers  burrowing deep to make suitable winter homes, warm away from the harshness of a Shrawley winter.

“From the Junky Muntjac to the Fucked Fox…” etc (see earlier post about the hot tub songs)

I’m betting this year the winter will be a mild one, I have no reason to think so and no facts on which to base this thought, I just thought I’d make some conversation, about the weather, which is what we are best at.

Benny, the dog, is really loving the freedom of the woods and worryingly runs off far into the dense undergrowth, on the trail of a scent of the afore mentioned Stoned tripping Foxes.

In other news, excitingly so, I am going to see Orbital at the O2 in Brizzle in December; a Dad’s gig Christmas outing, last Dad’s gig was Quantic which I may have mentioned was like being stuck in a Giles Peterson DJ booth for slightly too long, far too jazzy. Jizz hands definitely expected. This means I’ve got to brush up on the Orbital band’s new songs, an album came out recently I think, and Ive been there since the start of the whole thing, through the break up, the reunification, the triumph of their return gigs. A sea of 40+ year old heads bobbing up and down to Lush, Chime, Fahrenheit 303, Impact the earth is burning and the like; Where is it all going? a blistering en-core. This time its on a Sunday, so will be an early finish, just enough time to get back home to bed before midnight, it’s a 140 mile round trip, or there about.

They truly are the gods of all things brilliant about electronic music. Please Americans and everyone else turn this up, very loud and have a dance with gay abandon; it’s awesome!!

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