Diary June 9

Missed the market this morning then felt bad when I remembered I'd arranged to lend a 19th century book on Welsh harp music to John Molineux who plays the dulcimer; I found his number and address on the internet and gave him a call, as there was no reply I took it directly to his house which isn't far from here hoping he'd be in by the time I arrived, which he was. He told me he'd show it to an Irish harpist who's just moved into the area at Botmeur. I'm not materialist, not much point the amount of stuff I've had stolen and more especially since the fire, but I've had bad experiences of lending, invaluable to me, books & music, so I ask not to lend on. I meant to drive straight back but I got to walking some country lanes in the Plouie backwoods; Wordsworth's most famous poem came to mind as I was wandering all alone, asking myself why, there must be an unmarried girl out there somewhere who's met me and got a good impression, I've been by myself for far too many years now, anyway there were butterflys flitting & fluttering everywhere, every so often they'd stop near me, I haven't got the right material to get close enough to take photos but I had a go. Food entered my mind and I thought of tomorrow's breakfast of which there's nothing left in the cupboard, I looked at my watch - 5.10pm, shop shuts at 5.30 and I've already missed it 3 times this week, got there in time, bought cereal, bread, tea and allowed myself 2 luxuries - ham & yoghurt.