Walking upon East Hill ...

This morning we climbed up East Hill - we walked for a while upon the wind blown grass - the old year was drawing to a close - tonight, zombie nurses, pirates and top gun pilots would carouse in Swanage - 

I lagged behind the others - there they were, small precious figures under the sky, each one with their own thoughts, tender birds flying inside their heads - 

11.30

December 31 2014

East Hill

Corfe

Cappuccinos in Harry's Sports Bar ...

 

I've just put down my cappuccino - Harry's Sports Bar is almost empty - Sophie, Anne and Tessa have been playing badminton - I'm lolling in a leather armchair - the blank flat screen TVs are like late Rothkos - 

In the gym, one of the Darrens reassured a paunchy dad - you'll be alright when  you get some sugar he said - perhaps a banana -

I'd gazed at myself in a mirror - why, I thought, was my hair so startingly white?

Richard told me that he was now going to the gym - late last night he sent me WhatsApp pictures from The Golden Eagle - there was the blazing fire - there was the pump badge of Rosey Nosey - I sent in return a picture of Harry Palmer being iconic in The Ipcress File - 

I thought of all the dark places we sometimes walk in - 

There'd been talk of such things whilst we walked along the beach at Studland - the pale sun was low in the sky - the calm sea was like the pelt of some vast animal - 

Sophie asked when Richard and I first met - I remembered him opening the boot of his MG Magnette, lifting out a crate of Gales Ales - 

Later, in the party, he would very slowly dance -   

12.00

December 30 2914

Harry's Spirts Bar

Purbeck Spirts Centre

Warehsm

Richard puts a monkey on a nag ...

I'm now sitting in Earthlights, with the shards of a breakfast roll on the plate before me - Richard is placing bets, whispering quirky names into his mobile - 

The screen of Richard's opened notebook is showing a race - it's a long one he says - I could be staring into a palantir - I can see tiny remote beautiful horses, jumping fences, fragile dolls perched upon their saddles - one of Richard's horses comes in second - 

The glass windows of Earthlights are all steamed up - a dainty girl quivers behind the counter - across the road, an anoraked dad pushes a buggy past The Mulberry Gallery - 

Richard challenges me to have breakfast with him in the Salvation Army Cafe on Albert Road - 

12.55

December 27 2014

Earthlights Cafe 

Swanage 

Playing bar billiards ...

We walked under an icy blue black sky to The Henty Arms - each side of the 

dark road were silent bungalows - TVs shone in warm lounges - our long shadows danced before us - a freezing wind chilled my ears - remote stars cast their ancient light - 

I felt tipsy after the bumpers of Freixenet - Matthew and Joe sported splendid beards - 

We'd driven to Ferring to see Sally and Richard - the drive from Havant had taken just over half an hour - 

A hot tub steamed on the patio - whilst we were playing bar billiards, Anne, Sally, Sophie and Tessa lolled in the scalding water - 

Do you know bar billiards? Richard had asked me - 

I'd played bar billiards very badly years before - I'd called my team The Crocs - once again I toppled pegs, wiping out my score - Joe and Matthew scored over six hundred before the bar went down - 

Rugby was being screened on the pub TV - a sinewy woman asked me not to impede her view - a man sat with his dog by his side watching us play - 

We're no good Richard grinned - 

18.00

December 27 2014

The Henty Arms

Ferring

My mum listens to The Moody Blues ...

I bought my dad a CD by The Moody Blues - I thought the music would remind him of his younger summers - 

After lunch today, I put the CD on - my dad came in with his milky coffee - my mum was resting on the sofa - listening to the opening track, I remembered being seventeen, reading Steppenwolf in the sixth form common room, dancing at a party to I heard it on the grape vine - 

Now my mum was listening to Tuesday Afternoon - she smiled, moving her hands to the music - 

Earlier, she'd held my hands - my hands are like my mum's now she said - 

14.00

December 27 2014

Staunton Road

Havant 

Watching Casablanca at my mum and dad's ...

We watched Casablanca at my mum and dad's this afternoon - Sam played As Time Goes By - a searchlight beam swept over the doorway of Rick's Cafe Americain - Captain Renault smiled his foxy smile - Rick smoked a bitter cigarette - Ilsa's words were washed away by rain - 

My dad glanced up from the letters page of The Portsmouth Evening News - the silver plane was taking off for Lisbon - Ilsa had gazed sorrowfully into Rick's eyes - we'll always have Paris Rick said - 

My dad had seen the film soon after it was made, queueing up with his friends outside a Babylonian temple of a cinema in North End - they all wore jackets with wide lapels and ties like emerald lizards curled around their necks -  

Earlier, we'd had a Boxing Day Lunch at The Rusty Cutter - 

The waitress asked me if I wanted ultimate chips - 

17.45

December 26 2014

Staunton Road 

Havant 

Christmas Morning at Studland ...

This morning we opened our presents listening to salsa - Sophie told me that the dress code for George the Poet would be urban - I looked at a map of the Moscow Metro - 

We'd watched Skyfall last night - Bond and M spoke tersely to each other - a crazed former agent sought vengeance - I dreamily watched a crippled helicopter plunge earthwards - I'd grown old with Bond, I thought - I remembered the thrill I'd felt watching Goldfinger, how I'd treasured my dreams of Honey Ryder - 

During an ad break, I went outside - I looked at the crescent moon, white as bone in the night sky - I looked for angels amongst the stars - 

After breakfast, we drove to Studland - Christmas families were walking along the beach - a glowing girl emerged from the silky sea - labradors chased tennis balls - the sky was a pale blue - gentle waves washed shells onto the sand -  

12.00

25 December 2014

Middle Beach 

Studland 

Christmas Eve Morning in Wareham ...

I woke this morning to a flawless sky - for a few moments I recalled my sultry dreams - then joy filled my soul - I felt like Scrooge, opening his bedroom window - on such days, withered souls became young and green - I felt as I felt when waking to the voice of the muezzin - 

I parked the red Peugeot before the Walls  - I walked through gentle Wareham as though I were Damiel - I found the keffiyeh I thought I had lost - each house in West Street was filled with forgiving ghosts - I was dazzled by poignant sunlight - 

The church tower rose to heaven - the bright river ran to the sea - Paul was cutting hair with his shining scissors - there was the Black Bear, where the Camera Club meet - Golden Glory brimmed in pint glasses - the bearded men in Ponds were warmed by their venerable stove - 

Inside The Salt Pig, the voices of Christmas visitors reminded me of Shoreditch - smoked hams hung from the low ceiling - I gave up my seat for a friend of the Crossword Gang - I sipped my cappuccino standing up - 

I saw that the Wareham Whalers would be singing in The Anglebury - I resolved to have a toasted teacake there, to sit where Lawrence had sat, casting his blue eyed shadow upon the lime washed walls - 

This afternoon, Sophie would be coming down to see us - she and Tessa would shine like angels - 

11.00

December 24 2014

Outside The Salt Pig 

North Street

Wareham

Remembering when I read The Hobbit for the first time ...

Last night I saw The Battle of The Five Armies at The Rex - I went with Tessa and Aaron - Aaron wore a long black coat with many zips - walking down West Street, I imagined that I was a character in a Ray Bradbury short story - a slender witch might be casting spells in the attic of number 37 - a life might be foretold in a beautiful tattoo - 

Queuing for our tickets in the foyer of the cinema, I remembered when I first read The Hobbit - I found it by chance in Miles Bookshop - I was thirteen years old, skinny and aching for wonders - 

I read the book from cover to cover - I treasured every word - in my dreams I heard the voice of the dragon - I wore a mithril shirt - I was on a quest in a beautiful terrifying world - waking, I longed to dream again - 

19.30

December 22 2014

The foyer of The Rex

Wareham

Wrapping Christmas presents, Marianne Faithfull sings Callooh callay ...

Yesterday evening, we finished wrapping the Christmas presents - 

Earlier, whilst making the fire, I'd listened to some spare jazz - I'd placed lichened apple logs upon a nest of pine cones - white ash powdered my finger tips - the wind sighed in the chimney - 

We drank a bumper each of Hopping Hare - 

Anne said even a shirt looks interesting and special when you've wrapped it up - 

I remembered then all my boyhood awakenings on Christmas Day - I'd reach out with slender arms for my pillow case of stocking presents - 

My new watch would say five thirty in the morning - Gosport would still be a dark mysterious kingdom - 

I'd tear off the gaudy paper covering a Letts Diary or a yellow Arrow paperback - I'd savour the anticipation of going downstairs - 

The joy of a present for me was that second of wonderful hesitation before I removed its wrapping - 

Presents, I thought, were just like bright promises - 

Callooh callay! sang Marianne Faithfull - 

I sat before the hissing flames, taking comfort in that golden voice - 

21.00

December 21 2014

The Old School House

Isle of Purbeck

Dorset

At the hand car wash ...

I'm sitting in the waiting room of the Sandford Hand Car Wash - perky Christmas pop is playing on the radio - there's a small Christmas tree placed upon a table of magazines - 

Outside, amiable Serbs are jet washing white vans - the red Peugeot is next in line - 

This is the first time I've ever made use of a hand car wash - 

Sophie had told me that in Lewisham, dreadlocked dudes would wax Mikey's customized Golf - 

In Boscombe, I'd seen shaven headed bravos cleaning windscreens - 

I'd felt nervous, watching the scouring jets of water, hearing new words, dodging mud filigreed Isuzu Troopers - 

But now, here I am, watching the Serbs - 

Noddy Holder is singing Well here it is, Merry Christmas, everybody's having fun - 

One of the Serbs turns down the radio - 

It is good he says - at Christmas, everyone wants a clean car - 

I accept the gift of an air freshener for the Peugeot -

12.30

December 21 2014

Sandford

near Wareham