June 3rd – This afternoon I sat by my river my company a book and a bottle of very cheap red wine.
It was the sort of afternoon that seamlessly flows into evening. The book something light that suited my mood and imagination; not a weighty, worthy tome by any means. The wine a cheap wine that is so improved when served at sun temperature on a warm summer’s day and whose business, other than mine, should it be if I decide to drink a glass or two or a full bottle; my mood and the day will make that decision. The sort of day to be treasured and stored in memory to be rekindled in darker, wintery days of melancholy and sadness.
Some time was spent watching a young trout valiantly but failing to swim upriver but finding the way blocked by the vertical steel wall of the closed winter sluice if only he had turned and swum up the gentle slope of the summer sluice she would have made it with ease. Perhaps she did for it was probably a female trying to return to were she was hatched.
 I am in my mid seventies some say I eat too much, others say alcohol is bad for me and I, and others, should abstain. Who are these cold hearted people who would deprive me of the few remaining pleasures I can enjoy with relish. They continue to build my memories for the winter’s days to come