3rd december

Ok. Dawn tumbled clumsily out of the bed of night at around the same time I did. It lingered for a moment to get its bearings before resignedly cloaking itself with the dismal shroud of morning’s grey cloth. In the meantime, I dressed myself in my shorts and t-shirt and considered I had done a far better job. What’s all this cloud stuff about, I ask you. I washed in the bowl of literary self-indulgence as the sun poked its bashful head through the blanket of cloud, decided it was far too early for an appearance and summarily disappeared under the covers.

I wipe myself with the towel of bookish excess, leave the weather to its disappointing machinations, dip a couple of long words in my coffee and do aforementioned roll call. I imaginarily get out my imaginary daily imaginary register and called out the names:

“Pay attention everyone please. Ok. Negra?”

“Woof,” comes he response from Negra. I tick her off on the register as present.

“Lizard in my boot?”

“Slither.” I’ll take that as a ‘present’. I tick off lizard as being present.

“Bat in my cupboard?”

“Nocturnal sir, probably sleeping,” comes the reply from ‘Spider in my boxers’.

“Ah yes, thank you, Spider.” I tick Bat off anyway. “Spider in my boxers?” There is no answer. “Spider, I know you’re here. I just spoke to you!”

“Yes, sir. Sorry sir. Just trying to put my trousers on. not easy when you have eight legs.”

I tick him off too. “Beetle in my coffee?”

“Drowned, sir.”

“Very true. Thank you, spider.” I put a solemn cross next to ‘beetle in my coffee’, lamenting the passing of a worthy adversary, fighting down the lump in my throat. “Schoolboy on a horse?”

“Half term, sir”

“Ok.” A cross there, then. “I must speak to his mother. Dawn?”

“Stumbling around outside.”

“Ah yes. That’s fine.” I give Dawn an extravagant tick. “Sunshine?”

“Still in bed, I think.”

“I see.” I make a mental note to chastise sunshine. “Crocodile with big teeth?” No response. “Crocodile?” When I looked, lizard, Negra and the spider had all disappeared, as I too would have done if there had been a reply of ‘present’ from crocodile. In fact, I think I would have leapt so high I would have landed on the solar panel that is proving so elusive!

Obviously, the above roll call did not take place in actuality, but it would have gone something like the above if it had. It far beats Tom Hanks in ‘Castaway’ when all he had to speak to was a football called Wilson.

Actually, maybe I should invent a head too. Or an ‘ead! Let’s work through the possibilities here.

I could have coconut ‘ead! Coconut ‘ead would be a real ‘ard nut! Milky white skin and funny ‘aircut.

I could have pineapple ‘ead! Kinda sweet, bad complexion.

There used to be a footballer called Jason lee who used to play for Grimsby. He was a Forest player before that and he had a kind of dreadlocked ponytail haircut and the fans started to get onto him. His haircut gained him notoriety, especially with ‘Skinner and Badiels’ of the world. He inherited his very own theme tune.

“He’s gotta pi – neapple on ‘is ‘ead! He’s gotta pi – neapple on ‘is ‘ead”, they would sing. It affected his career quite badly in the end. So badly, in fact, that he ended up shaving it off and coming to Grimsby. Now that is dire!

Sunbathed all morning on the balcony.

I had previously found some big planter-shaped planter pots in the tool shed so I decide its time to utilise them. I dredge up my management protocols from some long since discarded box in the corner of my cobwebbed mind.

Everything has to have a procedure. It’s procedure to have one. This is part of the procedure for laying down procedures.

This is the procedure for my planters:

1. Take planters from tool shed into garden.

2. Find soil to fill up planters with and fill planters with said soil.

3. Realise there is no room for plants in soil-replete planters so tip some soil out.

4. Realise there are no suitable plants within reach or view and review whole procedure.

5. Head off into rain forest to find suitable plants.

6. Return having realised oversight.

7. Get trowel and plastic bag

8. With trowel and plastic bag, head off into rain forest to find suitable plants.

9. Find suitable plants.

10. Dig them up and place in bag with as much soil as possible to retain root structure.

11. Return to site of planters with bag of plants.

12. Place plants in planters, firming soil

13. Water plants in planters.

This is the risk assessment:

1. Don’t hurt yourself.

I have four of these planter things. I put two in the kitchen and the other two on the balcony. It adds a bit of ambience, don’t you know.

The steps leading down from the side of the house to the footbridge across the swamp have eroded over the years, become overgrown and are very muddy so I got out a spade and redefined them. They are still muddy and footing is still treacherous but at least they are all useable now. They really need some gravel sprinkling on them to give some purchase. There is also a gully outside the house that is about two feet deep and one foot wide. Everyone has to step over or jump over this gulley to get to the footbridge or to Over’s house, or for Over to get to the tool shed which he gravitates to from time to time. Caused by erosion, the gulley is probably a couple of feet wide and fifteen feet long, and runs down the side of the house because that is where the water is thrown off the roof – there is no gutter. It is permanently slippery. I find a couple of spare gavilán planks that are not too shabby and place them across the gulley, setting them into the soil so they won’t slide way.

Feeling DIY flushed with meaningful intentions; I find some bright green paint and try to paint some of the balcony rails and beams. I do not have a brush so I try it with a sponge - it doesn't really work. Ho hum, at least I feel like I have done something today.

I find a couple of orange-shaped oranges on the ground outside that had prematurely fallen from one of the orange trees. They were greenish still – about the same colour as the paint, curiously enough. I ate the one that was the orangiest and it was a little tart, but edible. I will leave the other one in the sun and see if it ripens.

I once worked on a kibbutz in Israel for a while and they had an orange grove next to the football pitch. The oranges from those trees were so juicy and sweet. They were heavenly. So much so that we were each eating seven or eight of them every day until the flesh on the palms of our hands achieved a distinctly orange shade…delightful.

I sit on the balcony-shaped balcony for ages this evening – so long that I notice the stars moving around. It’s the first time I can honestly say I’ve seen the stars moving. Once when I was in the Sinai desert, I spent some time with an Egyptian guy who had a big fixed telescope out in the desert. There is no heat haze in the desert at night time, nor is there any smog or street lights to clog up the atmosphere and it is possible to see things in great detail. I could see the rings of Saturn quite clearly and the close up of the moon was impressive. I could almost have sworn that I saw a corner shop…

Makes you realise your small significance in the cosmos – maybe there is indeed some Superbeing watching us and the ball they threw at Yucatan was a stray, or maybe even a deliberate act of vandalism from a wayward God child, or it won a prize or something for hitting a planet.

Bagatelle with planets…