30th June 2011

Work in Progress
<<   James Joyce published his novel ‘Finnegans Wake’ in 1939, just months before the outbreak of the 2nd World War. It was serialised in fragments, under the title ‘Work in Progress’, in a variety of literary publications, including ‘transition’ and ‘transatlantic review’. He had begun the book 17 years earlier, a little after the publication of ‘Ulysses’. It was a phenomenal effort, dogged with ill-health, family deaths, the mental health of his daughter Lucia, the usual money problems, the move from Paris to Zurich and the gradual march towards war in Europe. There was also his own doubts about the mood and place of the book in ‘modern’ literature and not least, the sheer complexity of the writing, making it virtually unreadable to anyone other than a commited, inquisitive scholar. It was only then that he announced its final title. Joyce died in 1941, 70 years ago this year. In honour of this anniversary, I am publishing the June edition of ‘Last day of the Month’ in an incomplete form. I hope the reader will stay with me for the duration of the period that it takes to finish. In that way you may see the organic process take place for itself. I can reassure you that it will not take 17 years to complete. I will reveal the question at the bottom of the page by way of an indication of its final draft   >>

It was a hot afternoon, last day of June….

May rolled over and beyond its cusp, coming too late for news of the virginity tests leaking out of Egypt overnight. Probably not the most appropriate adjective really in the circumstances I suppose, but honest enough all the same. It was real, have a look for yourself.

Talk about an Arab Spring eh!

We were chewing through the psychology of the ending of a relationship in the company of D and D. How to hope to be most effective in causing hurt to the other….. what can I kill it with…. what will I be left with…. all to the finishing hubris of the overdue Avon orders.

There had been an explosion earlier in Pembroke Dock and nobody was sure just yet if anyone had been killed. Colin, my father in law has worked there many times, and although I knew he was elsewhere, my heart jumped a little all the same.

I once spent a lovely week in Pembrokeshire, in Haverford West. I have an Uncle and Aunt there, Seamus and Marilyn, as well as my cousins of course Mairead and Rhys. We went to Fishguard and watched the ferry from the beach and to Laugharne and saw Dylan Thomas’ house and read ‘Fern Hill’ to each other, out loud in the sun…. Three killed….  As an interesting aside, the final words of the radio reporter stated…. ‘production has not thought to have been affected’.

Many years later I realised that the Gorky boys came from those parts. I could even guess, that I have seen you in my town…. have you seen me in yours ? Another accident of geography. Ha ha

Question Time came to Wrexham and the whole thing was very low key. Mind you, I barely get information about the elections throgh the door never mind QT. I didn’t see anyone I knew because I was writing this and had it on in the backround. Much like a radio really as is my wont. There seemed to be plenty of talk of Wind Power. Sounds about right in my experience of Politicians.

Janet had finally taken down the last of the birthday cards, setting them to one side ready for loading into another box and forwarding them on into the attic. What a process. Who will read them I wonder. Grand-children, Great Grand-children…. Antiques Roadshow maybe, in a flurry of gasps and whoops as they check out the authenticity.

Billets Doux…. of sorts.

She managed to find the strength for conjuring food for all of us in a Sunday Silence. I tried to convince her for a duvet day but she had appointments and anyway it was Tuesday, Elikas day off.

Ah well.

I watched television later in bed that night. It’s the only time I enjoy a bit of TV. Drifting off to a bit of the Yesterday Channel while watching ‘War Women In the RAF’ or….

I hopped about on the channels and landed on Louis Theroux. I still think by the way, he is related to Paul. He may be you know, but I can’t be bothered checking WIKI to make sure. He was interviewing young American men in prison. They recited their mantras back and to…. to you to me…. to each other….

GABOS

GABOS

GABOS

The weather showed its Janus like face, blowing hot and chilly as the days tumbled towards a hesitant mid-month peak.

The news feels very physical and aggressive. It is like someone blowing pebble dash into my face. It is never ending. Do you feel it like that somedays ? It is hard. Bitter to the taste.

…. Diagio and the drinks industry…. Health Reforms to include doctors and nurses as well as GP’s so as to divide up the dialogue…. and cake…. while we throw the merits of the Austerity Bill about….Sarah Palin and the rise of the E-Mails….Farmaggedon…. Arise Sir Bruce…. QBHL…. Duke of Edinburgh in early retirement shock…. INFLATION…. shopping, fuel, oil, petrol, groceries…. 10,000 midwives…. Air Quality Targets…. fires in Dorset…. drought…. Conservative MP on assault charges…. Melanoma…. IVF…. Phew. I feel like I am being waterboarded….

I was back to work after a prescription of nasal sprays and a stomach full of antibiotics.

As always I had tried to squeeze 8 days work into a 5 day week. Just like we all do.

I had applied for a new CRB. I took myself down to the Council Offices for my interview. There was no room available for a civilised tete a tete and I had to sit on the seats by the lift, having my business poked into like a kid would with a stick….

RB did her best to maintain a litle dignity but it was out of her hands.

I was reminded of an old adage….’not for the likes of us….’

I didn’t mind really, it was a little light relief from reality. I spotted a poster carrying the face of my mother-in-law, an employee herself…. promoting alternative power…. fun…. picture of Maureen was lovely…. as for the CRB, I am expecting no problems. After all, a Drunk and Disorderly and a Cannabis Possession, two of my passions after all…. well…. not bad really is it for someone with a colourful past.

On the long finger…. Audrey – just the box that it came in…. …. …. Syria/Libya…. – Brian Lenehan…. David Kelly…. John Mitchel – Jail Journals…. Sickness absence ????…. Referral to Occupational Health…. Joeys’ News….

Blair as Euro President…….. I can imagine myself waiting on at table…. Would you like beansprouts or cucumber with that Sir….

Birthdays…. Daz and Nia…. Maureen/Eleecia/Elika/Lana…. Tan Y Dre Massive…. Another call from Pete S….

…. …. …. ….

Rivacre Swimming Baths during the time of the long hot summer…. aeroplanes that run on chip fat….

…. …. …. ….

Erica and the visit to the hospital…. Amiodarine trial…. INR…. Warfarin….

Bloomsday arrived. One of my favourite days of the year. James Joyce himself never knew of its importance as it was never celebrated until 1954, by a bunch of drunken literati (fair play to them) and one of Joyces’ cousins, to bring it all a sense of authenticity. I can’t exactly remember when I slipped into Joycean mode. I recall a version of the film of the ‘Ulysses’ playing in the early hours of a BBC2 morning. I think Miles…. played the lead role…. I also recall a film of ‘Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man’…. It was vivid…. Father Dolan…. The pandy bat…. Brothers/Jesuits, it is all the same really…. a fair old clunk of physical violence…. to the best of my knowledge and certainly in my personal experience it was never of a sexual nature…. but then again I never went to prep school….

Russian aircrash…. More murder in Syria…. Fathers Day and a tale of give and take…. Bonsai, like little geishas their roots bursting through the confines of the little pot like bound, trussed babes…. Goshawks…. hackers – SOCA – two music industry corporations…. The Goucho Tests…. www.akinator.mobi…. SAGA – The right to get to get sozzled…. 5livetony…. Solstice…. Trouble up North – Short Strand/short straw…. petrol bombs on the second night and a photographer shot in the leg…. Squatting – houses or Ghandis bowels…. Ken Clarke…. rapists…. sentencing…. legal posturing…. Germaine G…. A Greek vote of confidence….

Jackass…. porsche….

Mais ou sont la nieges dantan…. Francois Villon….

Geoffrey/George/Zippy/Rainbow…. and a Dalek….

Assisted death live on TV….

Not so good at saying goodbye, usually too busy running away….

Recovery or Renaissence

…. gareth ….

Doppler Effect…. Running out of time…. sore back…. tomato plants…. cholea…. Cyril….

Indignant…. the nuance of electronic messages…. the difficulties of disappearing…. Jamie nearly allowed me to talk him into it in Lanzarote…. hard to maintain knowing dialogue…. very often giving no sense of the reality of a conversation….

isolation…. sociopaths chipped from the same block as socialisers…. That old communitarian thing…. Prime movers…. Bog or Bob…. Nightmail and Beards….

…. ….

TV – Women in prison…. no wonder they behave the way that they do…. in chains with their babies in chains…. lying in secure rooms on state beds…. eating state food…. wearing state clothes…. America doesn’t own do ‘state’…. it has nothing to give – only enough to take when it is all added up with i’s dotted and t’s crossed…. Goshawks…. The Scheme…. Colony Collapse Syndrome….

…. ….

Night out in Chester…. all of the girls, well as many as Janet could muster…. all back to our place in time to wake me at 2.30am… me and Shelley ended up sharing a smoke about 6.00am before heading for bed…. little black eyed suzie we used to call her…. A photograph taken, straight into my eyes from over a shoulder, merely months old, a little smile playing around her pink petalled mouth….

PQR Steve…. it’s Mum…. She was upset, I could tell, choking on her words…. I looked it up…. Aortal Aneurysm…. Mmm…. interesting…. Mrs Hannon…. 100 years…. The Buffet…. Peg and the Alzheimers…. waiting on in a never-ending Mass…. Two dead birds… At swim two birds….

ABC Daz…. Oh it was great man…. we ended up staying and we are going back on Wednesday…. buds the size of your kneecap…. club 80 – 90 in benllech…. T25 days….

I drove back on the Old Wrexham Road….  through Marford…. no sign of Vernon…. past where George Borrow met a Beeston man…. Pure Cheshire…. I bumped into Morgan and…. Gorkys days…. Laughing Boy…. Had hoped to see Chloe dancing….

Rory Mc…. Milly and the cross examination…. Peter Falk/Columbo…. American same sex marriages…. Clarence Clemons…. Brian Haw…. Professor Edwards and the Registrar….

I took the day off work and managed to sort out a days leave at short notice…. Thanks T

I drove back a different way as always…. breaking up the relatively short journey of 25 miles or so…. through Huntingdon/Churton (college stuff)/Farndon and Holt…. Dry Sundays…. Acton-Pwll linkroad…. Ronnie P called to see Janet and myself….

Habitat…. Tony ‘baldrick’ Robinson…. Armed Forces day…. Glastonbury…. Cameron – Death of a Friend…. Fathers Day Cd’s…. Wimbledon….

Shami B…. Liberty…. Tony B…. the voice of reason….

Recovery or Renaissance…. The War on Drugs…. somebody you/is/are having a laugh…. Vive la difference

A glint of God from the psychics…. I thought Janet would have known what would come next…. I thought that he would have rang to tell her that it was Tuesday not Monday…. the Power of Suggestion…. Jaibao and the Chinese dollars…. ICC warrant for Gadaffi….

TV again…. Britain a place of peremanence and change…. Khymer Rouge…. chief ideologist on trial…. Greek austerity riots…. tear gas…. spending in good faith….

What next…. Geeks running the schools instead of the teachers…. you think this is easy…. come on up to the front…. Strikes…. Pensions…. Pubic held to ransom….

Heavy thunderstorms still…. power surges…. close…. Kabul…. Hotel Intercontinental…. NATO…. Space station debris…. 250 metres…. emergency measures….

Radio is good for you…. Research from…. Changes to the conditions of Police Bail…. Drama about Bobby Robson and Elsie after Mexico ’86….

Drifting thoughts…. Martello Towers…. InverClyde elections…. Sarkozy…. Murray…. Take That shows….

A little tug in the light as the days draw and dwindle….

Ed Milliband…. Where were you ????????

Another June…. All freshly trapped and foil wrapped in expectation…. filleted with light…. and served with warm wedges of Bobby Golsboro….

It was a hot afternoon,
Last day of June….
And the sun was a demon.

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