Phone

For who it may concern ... I am having problems with my mobile phone at the moment 

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Cold

 It hasn’t gotten much over freezing all day.

The neolithic burial mound on top of Gop Hill is dusted with snow and stands out in relief against the blue sky.

On and around it are the black spots that are the village children and their squeals of delight as they snowball and sledge can be heard down at the cottage, where I have lit the stove early.

Trendy Carol tottered past on the ice wearing a faux fur number

I dozed in the armchair after an icy walk.

But I didn’t dream of Mr Hemingway again,

Which was a shame .

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Karl

Karl has moved. For twelve years he stood upon the black marble plinth of the fireplace in our dining room but now he's in an alcove in the front room - standing upon a cabinet that an old friend called Colin Tohill made for us twenty five years ago.

Above Karl there's Fred Fox in his frame. I painted that picture myself after several trial attempts. I am rather happy with it and each day he reminds me that I should get painting again. I have a particular project in mind and have even purchased the required canvas. It's way past time to get cracking but procrastination has its delicious attractions.

We visited Goa on the west coast of India in 2008 and that is where we spotted Karl in the midst of a veritable army of carved elephants.  Here's what I wrote about him in September of that year:-

Karl the Mahogany Elephant. He stands about eleven inches tall. He's smooth and chunky. He has little white tusks and little white toenails and two beady little glass eyes. He stands on the polished black granite hearth, frozen in mid-stride. He is a souvenir of Goa. We bought him from a Kashmiri trader after numerous visits and discussions. On the last day of our Indian holiday we released him from captivity, wrapped him in Hindi newspapers and squeezed him into my hand luggage. Every carved elephant is a little different. Karl is named after a Brummie* we met at the Lui Beach Hotel in Candolim. He cost just under twenty quid.

*Brummie - resident of Birmingham, England

Karl is watching me as I type this blogpost. He is not trumpeting or surging across the room in a frenzied attack. He is just there, quiet as can be and still as a rock. He is as lovely now as he was that day we carried him back to the Lui Beach Hotel on the last day of our lovely holiday in Goa - almost thirteen years ago.

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