Sunday, 15 August 2010

Sunday 15th August, 6.56pm

Not at all certain how I missed two more days; but I did get to see the magnificent Glen Clova, so all is not lost.

Thursday, 12 August 2010

Thursday 12th August, 11.37pm

Today has been a day of sunshine, old friends, dogs in the burn, laughter, and one quite unexpected compliment.

Wednesday 11th August, 7.48pm

I am trying very hard not to turn into a weather bore; I fear I am failing.

Tuesday, 10 August 2010

Tuesday 10th August, 9.19pm

Today I thought mildly about horticulture, American politics, public debt, the sheer loveliness of Timothy West, Islamaphobia, and the best way to cook a chicken breast.

Monday, 9 August 2010

Monday 9th August, 1.29pm

I have lost ten days because I had to go to a funeral and I left my computer behind; in some obscure way, the missing days make me wonder if this entire project has been rendered meaningless.

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

Wednesday 28th July, 6.46pm

I do not understand why people with no taste open hotels; someone should make them go into dental hygiene or metallurgy or any job where aesthetics do not matter.

Tuesday, 27 July 2010

Tuesday 27th July, 7.28pm

Today I wrote 1992 words and thought about Shelley; there was faltering sun and a taunting suspicion of heat before the clouds rolled back in.

Monday, 26 July 2010

Sunday, 25 July 2010

Sunday 25th July, 8.26pm

The dogs swam in the burn; the sun shone weakly; it was a low, quiet kind of day.

Saturday, 24 July 2010

Saturday, 24th July, 5.55pm

This morning, at nine-thirty, a good old man died.

Saturday 24th July, 5.51pm

I suddenly realise that I quite forgot to do yesterday's sentence; I feel obscurely guilty and uncertain how to make good the omission.

Thursday, 22 July 2010

Thursday 22nd July, 9.19pm.

Today, I became first appalled, then fascinated, and finally delighted by the extraordinary story of Shirley Sherrod; they really chose the wrong woman when they went after her.

Wednesday, 21 July 2010

Wednesday 21st July, 9.37pm

There is a black sky, and relentless, drumbeat rain; it is like being in a short story by Somerset Maugham.

Tuesday, 20 July 2010

Monday, 19 July 2010

Sunday, 18 July 2010

Friday, 16 July 2010

Friday, 16th July, 2010. 3.29pm.

Last night, my mind was filled with dazzling sentences; today, not a single one remains.

Thursday, 15 July 2010