ag. becoming more difficult to break the silence, sorry. not indicative of mood or anything, that's fine, if thinly-spread and brittle. self-reflection just isn't a habit i feel much predisposed to indulge right now, too busy - mostly - to care what people think of me (i include myself in this).
xmas was ok, if frustratingly unproductive. i'll write it up better later, maybe, probably not. edited highlights include secretly voice-recording family with voice-recorder present (unfortunately, questionable quality of said gadget rendered entire record a passable analogue of souls tormented in hell, backwards - 'specially the festive meal). also: adoption of my mother's 1940s hat, mostly an immature provocation. went for country walk. fucking cold. read beckett aloud after meals, thinking a lot about form. pinter and churchill (my favourite) next.
there was a scary time when i feared i wd be snowed in somerset, but human ingenuity saved the day. i have semi-retired from friendster, which feels good (to paraphrase): "i'm sick of all this signifying. txxx wxxx dx uxxxx i cxx wxxx mxxxxxx cxxxxxxxx."