Following on from yesterday would mean a couple of paragraphs about keeping track of progress. No. Work reached a point where I couldn't go much further without replies to emails, so work turned into an early walk round the point. Then the day went, suddenly, from the weekend's sunshine to cloud and, not sure how to describe this, the tension of an abrupt weather change. Not cloud exactly; more a grey sky, undifferentiated into clouds, after a habitual blue sky. Did the birds stop singing? Don't think so, but there was a clear change of mood in the eclipse of blue sky by grey.
Travel erases memory, or perhaps I mean that place determines memory. Commuting, years ago, from country to city: country thoughts overlaid entirely by city thoughts at that end of the journey; vice-versa. Pointless to take an errand, or indeed a shopping list, from one to the other because it would slip down the mind in the course of the journey. Pleasant walk around Truro yesterday afternoon, reflecting on the knowledge that there was something I had wanted to do when I got to Truro, that had completely slipped my mind. There are whole philosophies built around the idea that acceptance of the human condition is a good thing; not useful when you get home to find that you've forgotten to buy milk for the tea.
Commuting. Would there be a market for paperwork, or screen-saving programmes, designed to enable people to look busy on trains and planes and in departure lounges? Columns of figures for them to add up, instead of doing the crossword, and bundles of fictitious memos designed to look tantalisingly interesting to the people on either side? Years ago there was The Complete Revenge Kit (I shall Google it after this; maybe it still exists) which consisted of official-looking but made-up letters to be sent to enemies, giving notice that (to take one example) construction work on the nuclear waste dump on their street would start tomorow.
Ring this number (my number) with any enquiry. My fictitious memos would be the props of a more interesting life, in the same way that a certain genre of spy novel is all about office politics given the added lustre that it's Cold War office politics. Consoling to an office politician on his/her train, but not really the route to a meaningful life.
This is turning into work-avoidance. Time to stop. [Note: sunny after a cloudy start; more than the usual variety of birds, silent behind that; cool air.] Next thing on the list: transcribe 1,000 words. So here we go.
Travel erases memory, or perhaps I mean that place determines memory. Commuting, years ago, from country to city: country thoughts overlaid entirely by city thoughts at that end of the journey; vice-versa. Pointless to take an errand, or indeed a shopping list, from one to the other because it would slip down the mind in the course of the journey. Pleasant walk around Truro yesterday afternoon, reflecting on the knowledge that there was something I had wanted to do when I got to Truro, that had completely slipped my mind. There are whole philosophies built around the idea that acceptance of the human condition is a good thing; not useful when you get home to find that you've forgotten to buy milk for the tea.
Commuting. Would there be a market for paperwork, or screen-saving programmes, designed to enable people to look busy on trains and planes and in departure lounges? Columns of figures for them to add up, instead of doing the crossword, and bundles of fictitious memos designed to look tantalisingly interesting to the people on either side? Years ago there was The Complete Revenge Kit (I shall Google it after this; maybe it still exists) which consisted of official-looking but made-up letters to be sent to enemies, giving notice that (to take one example) construction work on the nuclear waste dump on their street would start tomorow.
Ring this number (my number) with any enquiry. My fictitious memos would be the props of a more interesting life, in the same way that a certain genre of spy novel is all about office politics given the added lustre that it's Cold War office politics. Consoling to an office politician on his/her train, but not really the route to a meaningful life.
This is turning into work-avoidance. Time to stop. [Note: sunny after a cloudy start; more than the usual variety of birds, silent behind that; cool air.] Next thing on the list: transcribe 1,000 words. So here we go.