Well, nearly. We ran into a blizzard north of Church End, east of the Gallows Green Road (love the place names up-county – Bacon End and Butcher’s Pasture are in the same area). It slicked a small, winding country lane already made treacherous by packed sheet ice. And then we hit a pothole and that was it, we were planing. Up over the kerb and headed for a low wall with a deep ditch behind it. Luckily, mounting the kerb gave us the traction we needed to pull round with a foot to spare. That was fun. Drove on, to find a car buried in a ditch at the next junction.
Oh, and the back of the kitchen flooded the other day. I’m starting to get the sense that 2009 wants to finish me off before it dies of old age. A calendrical unit yelling "I’m taking you with me, you bastard!" from its vanishing final paper bunker marked December, every spent day a room deleted from the structure until 2009 is finally huddled in one small box marked 31 and screaming obscenities in stark terror.
All of which was probably an episode of Grant’s DOOM PATROL.
This is the new issue of COILHOUSE. Delighted to see Kristamas Klousch on the cover. It goes on sale on the 22nd. This will be the link you need.
So, having lost even more time to trying to staunch an apparently endless flow of meltwater through my windows, I have to now write DO ANYTHING #026 and FREAKANGELS 0082, because Paul’s just caught up to me. And then I’m calling it Done for the year. I’ve really got nothing left in me this year. Not intending to do anything more than scribble in a notebook and write the occasional piece here until Jan 5.
(FREAKANGELS will be on a skip week this week, because Xmas Day falls on Friday. If we had any sense, we’d skip New Year’s Day too.)
Fuck you, 2009.