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

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