He Don’t Play No Trombone

Dec 3, 2020 | Covid-19 Diary, Dead Water

When I went to bed last night the rain was horizontal. I looked out the window and saw a badger running along the street, faster than I knew badgers could run. When I looked out the window this morning (after a solid eight hours) there was snow on the ground. The Pentlands were white in the pale light against darkening grey clouds.

A trip to the shops yielded an unexpected heavy-duty fleece in a sale, reduced from £90 to £30. The cynic in me recognises that the £60 difference is probably their gross margin in normal times, but I wore it tonight while out for my walk and was too warm in it. That makes it a decent winter buy, and a bargain at the price. I’ll need to take it back to have the security tag removed though.

Other than that, I don’t have a lot to say today. I dare say there was some news, but I haven’t gone out of my way to look.

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Music: as we’re in December and lights are already going up, here’s one of my favourite Christmas-themed songs from an old favourite of an album. Tom Waits: Christmas Card From A Hooker In Minneapolis.