Dancing with a hoe: February 2021

Saturday 27 February 2021

Trouble, You Can't Fool Me — Ry Cooder

Sunshine returns to the world beyond windows...

Something to crow about...

It's happening again.

We'll give the wheel another spin...

This bed is covered by winter salad,"mache", naturalised from a sowing three years ago. I am preparing the bed for early peas.

Raised bed rising.

Budding nectarine blossom.

Things may never be perfect, but we are garaunteed a job for life if we are dedicated to improving our circumstance and relieve from unecessary suffering. We dig it...

Saturday 20 February 2021

All Spit and Wind...2...I. WAZIR

Signs of Spring...

Untroubled by a few days of snow.

Chef the rooster stands guard.

In spite of the cold, the colour is coming back to the garden's cheeks. Siberian Wallflowers making an early start.

Cornus is surviving the north easterly winds , promising much delicious fruit.

I can't remember the name of this, a handsome evergreen,Flowering through the cold season.

Daffodils, right on time.

Monday 1 February 2021

Emma Grace...Someone would like to hear from his daughter. Pink Street, Lisbon, and fans of Pinky's Bar please forward.

I know she could read and write, ahead of the school curriculum, predating use of computers. "Sail before steam", sez I. I hear Portugal is upping it's restrictions due to a sudden surge in CoVid19 numbers. Hardly best news for the hospitality industry. Folk who have become hooked by opportunity in the urban huddle, in service to the gravy train of tourism. An honest clue as to how well or how badly you are coping with the current crisis would be appreciated. Whilst the Lockdown/curfew,regulations nail you down, trust in putting pen to paper. It's a useful life skill, worth practicing and preserving.

Hi Emma. So what stops you making civil contact? Do you know? Secretive behaviour has caused you to fabricate much fear and loathing in your own mind. What's to fear, my Emma and what's to hate. You aren't living in Orphan Alley, you have family. Both parents care about you. Here's your chance to put on your big girl pants and start to relate to the parent you were cultivated and encouraged to ignore.

I am sure the Portugese postal service would appreciate your patronage. It would make a little good sense of the time spent locked down. A few well thought out lines a day would soon mount up. Where's the harm? I still maintain a state of Grace in our tiny domain. A place where you too might find some peace of mind and a little happiness. We are not long enough in this world to afford wasting time by nurturing well preserved lies.

My physical health has not been the best, fairly scary at times. Much of my concerns are being rectified. There are more health problems in the world than CoVid 19 . We will solve our own. It appears that my physical condition forbids me Masking up, or taking the jab. I'm grateful for that. I have loving care at home and a life supporting garden environment. It isn't all painless progress,the good however greatly outweighs the bad. Life for the most part is good. The mortgage will be paid in four months, we may be expanding our home base once this part is paid for. We have some interesting challenges ahead. The "effing sad old twat of a dad" as once you memorialised in a letter exists only as a figment of your mind, a conjured fictional character. I'll admit to having a natural reaction to sad occasion, there's more to your father than that. Circumstances change, I am not living in a circular rut.Lessons get learned and I move on. Building on hard won real life experience.

Refering to your father as being a mere "sperm donation" memorialised in another letter is not something you need be proud of.It may have gained you favour with your mother, attitudes need exposing if they are to be rectified. The worste /best?? is yet to come Emma G. Discussion of your mother's reportage of false allegations. If you people are habituated to such lies then everyone you may come into contact with would need warning; if discreet communication isn't forthcoming soon I give you my firm undertaking , I will make much of the subject where it will probably hurt most. Not your inebriated emotional life but in your newly founded business.The cleaning enterprise may have to have it's nose rubbed in the mess you helped to dump on me. The stigma of Pink street amongst the paying clientelle would only compound your inability to thrive as a business. You are running out of time daughter. You will find lots of information about narcissistic condition on my blog. Where do you place yourself . I tolerated your mothers condition for the whole of my marriage. She's beyond help. That may also be said about her two children. I could see the direction my "family" was going long before I seperated. Your mum was reluctant to take on board the need to prevent her children from adopting malignant practice in denial of the obvious reality. I was lucky to escape. The threesome ring is a malignant narcissistic personality disorder. The empath in your family was never appreciated for the good I did.My withdrawal of service was the only civilised course of action open to me. There is a huge paper trail of letters and documentary evidence that would corroborate and verify all my careful writing.

You will recieve via your email a copy of a letter to Toby. A request for verifiable proof of biological paternity. If he wont cooperate I will pursue the matter through the courts.Share it if you wish with your mother. There is a letter for your mother also which due to not having her email address I must trust Toby to deliver. I would send you a copy if he is uncooperative.

I will leave it at that for now. There's more,but it will have to wait. Anticipating a time when we might share some smiles together,(I can dream), I close with distant unrequited paternal Love. Dad

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."