Disintegrating leather coat problem...

... postponed. Having bought Looby Loo long black boots (I begin to wonder whether the presence of quite so many boots in my wardrobe is the reason for her choosing boots over shoes two winters in a row--or is it in the genes? (under the jeans, unless the jeans is tucked in?)), I succumbed to a cut-price flouncy skirt, in black, almost ankle length, and a vaguely military, close-fitting denim jacket. This will be warmer than the stretchy, vaguely military shirt I use as outdoor wear at present, allowing me to avoid the issue of what to do about my leather jacket that's on its last metaphoric legs or using my suede jacket in the rain (which doesn't do it any good).

What I really need is an exact replica of the current leather jacket, with the same amount of padded lining, and decent-sized pockets, and the correct length to keep buttocks warm, but I'm never going to find that--and certainly not at the £99 I paid for the current one. I think I could do a winter with the denim jacket and resurrected shawl if I can keep the cats off the shawl. Heck, I might actually look as if I've been near a clothes shop in the past few years.

More poetry

Canine puzzlement illuminating loss: Hiding

Another ostensibly.simple verse (do I like my poetry simple? sometimes), with bald statements, almost entirely objective description. It's the action, all those active verbs in the simple present tense vividly conjuring the dog's activities. The lists of actions especially give an urgent energetic feel. The changes in tense are interesting too: the two in the past--finite and not continuous--bookend all but the opening line, containing all that present action.

What's not said, of course, is what the poet feels about the loss. Nor are these feelings transferred to the dog: it's a very doggy dog, no anthropomorphism here. Yet the structure and the present business point up the stillness of absence.

A beaut.

Okay, that's it

No more computer this evening. Off to worship Bob.