January 2, 2025

Looked in my journals to see that twenty years ago I was in Cork, for a joyful freezing New Year. Twenty years ago toay I had the following conversation:

*

In one bar I fell in with the three members of a band which was opening for another band in the bar next door a little later in the night. I don’t remember the name of the band, but I remember the scruffy beauty of their faces. They knew Fergal from McGarrigles in Sligo, so we had something mutual to talk about for a while. They used their own system of notation, with the words of the songs written in pencil on sheets of paper, with some sort of mnemonics based on the thickness of the stroke with which the words were written, by which the band members were trying to cement the tunes into their heads. All systems created to make up for not being able to read music seem more complicated to me than simply reading music. The inevitable happened:

“Has anyone said you look like Elton John? In his younger days?”

“What makes you think I’m not Elton John?”

“Because you’re having a pint in this pub with the likes of us.”

*

Sweetboi has been missing for three days. The carcasses I put in their usual places go uneaten, until consumed by whatever hunts my garden at night. Such a handsome boy is likely to have many friends and protectors, or perhaps he’s stoked enough to fly south. 

The Falls of the Wyona does in fact appear on Kirkus Review’s “Best Indie” reviews of 2024. Can’t imagine how anybody would see it. I searched online for a good ten minutes. 

“Spem in Alium” on Pandora. 

The new owners of Grace Plaza are clearing out the trees on the east-facing hill. This spells the beginning of the end for me, as the roots of those trees are all that keeps the steep bank from collapsing. I wont have the money to fight them.