Charismatic Megafauna

Called round to Tricky’s last night to help with the ‘Charity Gig’ web site. Jak cooked up some tuna steaks and new potatoes. Jamie turned up so we divvied the two portions of fish into three and he joined us. I didn’t get the site finished as there was more to do than first seemed. Most of it is up there though, and it’s not looking too bad. The Eight Bells is hosting it this year, and me and Sparky are doing a couple of poetry slots. I have also been press-ganged into putting in some time on the B-B-Q by the pub landlord. Not only out there annoying the public but probably poisoning them as well! You are all, whoever you may be, welcome to come along. There should be some good music, food and fab people; if the weather turns out to be good it will be an added bonus.

I got back to the cut and dropped in for a couple of glasses of wine with Caliope on his boat. Em checked in, she had just got back from a lightening visit to Barcelona. I had been looking after her cats while she was away. All that consisted of was putting a fresh bowl of water down for them and making sure their food hadn’t gone off in the heat. Blossom and Billy, cute little killers! The ‘green corridor’ within which runs the canal is a refuge, a wile natural habitat for may of our fines birds, insects, reptiles, fish, flower and fauna (Charismatic Megafauna?), and none of this is safe with the likes of Blossom and Billy. No insect too small, no bird too tall. It is their sport but the kill count gets disturbingly high at times. Multiply that by every pet moggy in the country and you get the begings of the UK’s contribution to the EU’s Death Mountain. But they are nice little things, those two, and they know no better, it’s in their genes. Em had bought back a pack of incense from Spain for me as a thank you. A timely gift.

As I was opening the door on the boat my phone bleeped. It was a text from Special: “What is the smallest country…” I remembered she had said she was going to a quiz night at her local pub. I guess that was her ‘phone a friend’ life wasted. One of the Banshee's new friends also sent me a badly spelt and constructed text. It didn’t make much sense and what sense it did make was utter bollocks. I deleted it and wiped it from my mind, checked the string of garlic I’d hung over the door (just in case), and entered my sanctuary. I had a bit of trouble sleeping, lots on my mind: there was the leaking calorifier that still needed attention; a new problem with the toilet tank, it’s getting near time to make a pump-out trip, I haven’t seen or heard from Keefy for a while so I will probably do that trip solo; the Screaming Banshee tried to get into my thoughts but I managed to block that; shirts needed ironing; water tank needs filling; another visit to London coming up; washing; sorting out my new poetry book, artwork etc.; the date with Special; Special; Special; Special ……Zzzzzzzzzzzzz.