Dancing with a hoe: Incoming...

Friday, 21 August 2020

Incoming...

Spuds, Nectarines, Peaches, Green and Red Grapes, and a Melon. A gift from Marie Teresse's potager.

A sack more melons, a surprise from neighbour Yvonne. Merci Beaucoup...

the first of the Aubergines from the tunnel,a few apples and some early "mutant" peppers and tomatoes. Pears and some beanseeds. A couple more corn cobs for the chickens. 100% "Biologic".
I have just sown some early garlic amongst my maincrop carrots, using it as a deterent against carrot fly. Maincrop Garlic will be sown from October till late November.

The first nectarine from our own little tree. Birch leaves are turning golden. The red hazel is now green . Sign of an early Autumn? Preparing to be overwhelmed by Pears,Figs and Tomatoes.Six pumpkins growing fast. A fresh flush of flowers on the runner beans, cache crop coming up.

I'm off out, to see what else is up.

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About Izmusic

"My melodies are songs without words, none vocal narrative. Folk have rushed by for years and barely glimpsed the tune. A few hang around and listen for a while, but the street has many distractions. My back is no longer against the wall,this is the first chance I've had in eleven years to unravel my tunes, at present encrypted into a whole tangle of technique excercises. You've missed some wondrous epic sessions sad that most often I was the only person,mortal at least, to hear them.
Eight hours a day playing in the icy chill of city streets through several winters alters the character of your technique to some how transcend the harsh discomforts and "make some good of the day".
MUSIC IZ A MIGHTY MAGIC! The first cathartic offerings were created hastily in a frantic effort to master the production.It's all past time , I make music for the moment the occassion, a kind of relativity fix. A divine conspiracy, a benign heresy. The line of least probability may offer opportunity of greater possibility.
Enjoy my primitive efforts. Plain song busking,"strictly kitchen ". The music of the heart bridges the ambiguity of fumbling words,overcomes cultural barriers. Music like God is personal none vocal meaning in the voice of the unspeakable word. The "You know what I mean nostalgia " space ,whether we've done the daring deed or not, where the mind might put on clean socks and start afresh. Familiar phrasing from our collective vocal tradition triggers epic vision, emotional empathy, mathematical poetry, sympathetic reveries create lifelines to the greater mind. In all styles, in all languages the flute and drum resist the restrictive dogmatic control of state or temple."