Sunday, 28 August 2016

Ed astra

A long, lurid journey into the night.

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=1120468571331252&id=100001043583366

The time is wrong. Or right. Or wrong. Who knows or cares. - This is turning into a very difficult time. Difficult. Jacob's mother is trying to take him out of the school .She's just being bloody-minded but might do a lot of harm to Jacob. The fact that she gets legal aid means that she can go to court for free but I'm legally obliged to take a lawyer which will probably cost another 1000 euros. She has also appealed against the joint custody ruling. That's going to cost about 1500 Euros. I'm pretty much buggered and there's not a lot I can do.

Cycling by the river near the house
I have to confess to a radical time-lag. It's now the end of August and about 6 or 7 months since my last sentence. So here are some pictures which are much more eloquent.

Mid August 2016
He has been teaching me how to play basketball. A very good teacher he is too!

...And two weeks later..

The holidays are now coming to an end but, of course, I have no grounds for complaint. Long, languorous days and the sun are a balm for all wounds. 

Syrup died but her passing away was relatively peaceful. Gilty aged overnight as a result, changes in the merely physiological which will test our equanimity too. 

"This physical body is not me, but that which I use. These emotions are not me, but that which I control. These mental images are not me, but that which I create."
Today's poem:

Destitute

I walked the walk,
I planned the route.
You baulked the talk
You spurned my suit.
I'm destitute.

Love from afar
A bitter fruit
To raise the bar
Would be astute
I'm destitute.

Within us all
Resides a brute
Whose house will fall
Just like the fruit.
I'm destitute.

It's in your head
Your peace, your caste.
Your home your bread;
Your wealth is vast.
You're home at last.