Suddenly August which stretched ahead, sans work, as a month of pure hedonism, is already a quarter over...time is so stealthy, sneaking up and overtaking us just when we think we have lots of it. Where does time go? Sure, I have been doing a lot of the things I love, like swimming and baking cakes and going out to eat in splendid gardens with my Mum and assorted family members and friends. I have been playing with my fotos and cooking meals and reading books, I did my yoga and went out to yodel and sing. Booking my travel arrangements to go to Scotland was already like anticipating the trip, going on the overnight train from London to Fort William, waking up to see Loch Lomond and having my breakfast on the train watching it stretch by... But - I also had to spend hours in a police station while an apprentice policeman painstakingly wrote up how my bike was stolen, and I have been doing my tax and hassling employers to pay me and I spent time shopping and taking bottles to the bottle bank and filling in forms for renting a holiday place. Someone drove into the back of my car and fled, and now I have to go to the police again, to find out who it was. Action replay. All this is where time goes, instead of lingering lovingly and waiting to be needed. There is not enough of it to read poems or to go for long car journeys through the Alps. Unless you MAKE it, of course, at the expense of all that petty shit. And take a break from it all.