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widdershins


wid•der•shins |ˌwɪdəʃɪnz| (also with•er•shins) adverb chiefly Scottish in a direction contrary to the sun\’s course, considered as unlucky; counterclockwise. ORIGIN early 16th cent.: from Middle Low German weddersins, from Middle High German widersinnes, from wider ‘against’ + sin ‘direction’ ; the second element was associated with Scots sin [sun.]

A wind…

howled in from the south or north this morning – up or down, I am undecided. Buffeting the kitchen window in sudden sheets of rain which drained away in minutes. I could hear it whistling through the cracks left open to allow in some air even as the kettle sputtered and boiled. A witchy sound; blowing hot and cold.

All day long the skies have been bruised and pewter. Autumn is just around the corner.

I have been on the caffeine again of late. Yesterday was all but dry.

Still. I imbibed a little cider. Just enough to whet the whistle. It did not do it for me, though, and I left the bottle pretty much alone and opted instead for tap water. It was alright. Toxic though it may have been, I miss the dull metallic tang which comes solely from a domestic supply routed through archaic plumbing; its slow percolation through countless submerged yards of unfit lead. I pottered aimlessly around our flat and eventually poured a bath. All the while I listened to that wind. It reminded me, not unkindly, that there is doubtless worse to come.

What is wrong with architects round here ? They all start out with misguided preconceptions, prejudices or inherited vices. Shutters would be nice. Yesterday morning I rose early and strode out to deliver some thank you letters to the mailbox down the street. As close as I dare get to doing the same in person. Today I slept in until 10 or so. It seemed like the safe thing to do. I lay for a while and listened to Rosa move things around. Put breakfast cereal in china bowls for the kids. No hangover behind my eyes. No twitching in the body\’s extremeties.

Actually, I have not gotten drunk for quite some time. Well. Not in the habitual sense. Maybe I am losing it. Don\’t speak too soon kid, the wind warned me: there is a gale brewing.

DONOVAN: CATCH THE WIND [ECHO & STRINGS] from \”Catch The Wind b/w Why Do You Treat Me Like You Do ?\” 45 (PYE) 1965 (UK)

BOB DYLAN: IDIOT WIND from \”Blood On The Tracks\” LP (Columbia) 1975 (US)

#19651975

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