The long range forecast foresees heavy rain until five minutes before I go back to my work in August so now would be the time to snap up a last minute holiday, perhaps to Rhodos where I could smell the dry pine in the lost city of Philerimos or hang about the Turkish graveyard in Rhodes Town pretending to be Laurence Durrell. There are two obstacles to this plan:
1. Postcards from the Hedge is not yet ready
2. I have £12.50 till the end of July
Of these obstacles, the second seems by far the greatest.
On a lighter note the Mull Four have returned in high spirits, Theosyphilis Neill's near legendary drinking status further enhanced in the process.
I shall return to this journal presently: I am currently reworking a poem of mine I found in the washing machine.