WALKING ON THIN ICE

we’re camping at lane foot farm - way i’m limping it should be lame foot.

we’re in the mountains in north england near the scottish border. this area called lake district, has a population of 42,000, yet 12 million people visit every year.

food stores seem unnatural to us here in england. in morocco, fruits and vegetables and most everything else were piled in carts or blankets on the street. here, everything is packed with 4 million variations on each item, and the fruits and veggies are no where near as good as in morocco.

small supermarket here has 5 aisles with 10 rows - 1 entire row is booze, a second soda sugar pop, a 3rd sygar soaked breakfast cereals. have half a row for fruit and vegetables.

word of advic - if your lady love says on no i don’t want anything, i’m not hungry - better order more than you plan on eating because she’s going to eat part of what you order for yourself… and she’ll be happy because since she didn’t order anything, the calories don’t count for her.

sitting in this 2 room tent brings back childhood memories of hanging a blanket over a couple chairs and crawling inside to the darkness of your secret place.

unfortunately our blanket has 4 leaks - been raining 2 days now straight with no sign of dry sky. guess $100 tents aren’t what they used to be. fortunately it’s just in our sitting room - bedroom’s still dry. scottish lady said last month it rained 10 days straight - says in 20 years of camping that’s never occured before. taxi driver said he’s never seen such strange weather. welcome to global warming - even though war profiteer vice-dick cheney and his global worm georgie bush deny it’s happening.

we ate wild raspberries from roadside and pathside bushes these past three days. taste better when free, or stolen. yesterday walked a path through the mountains, stopped for tea and scones at an art gallery. art there had incredible skill and technique, but it was all countryside water colors and animal scuptures with no soul, no spark, no magic - rather like elevator music for the tourists and the those who buy art to match couch color.

the mountain rain makes everything cold, damp, clammy. can ring water out of my socks. my shoes are two liquid pools of unpleasant cold. 8 more nights here. camping in cold wet mountain rain is like living 3 months in a city i want out of.

i’m larger than lady - yet she takes 5/9s of the air mattress and leaves me 4/9s.

found slugs in our bag of carrots - ummmm, slug slime and carrots.

picked up lady’s used menstral pad and said i could sell this on ebay - call it lady’s raspberry crunchy snatch snack.

walking to town we saw a chicken cross the road, almost get hit by a car. i went up to it and asked it why it crossed the road. it didn’t answer, but lady said “to make a chicken pot pie hole.”

i apologize for not answering anyone - internet connections are a 90 minute walk away, cost $6 an hour, and are over before they begin. catch up on everybody and everything in 9 days when we hit london. all my typos, lack of cohesive flow, and lack of fotos are due to having to write these blogs fast in real time.

seize you on the downsize.

putting up our tent, i touched a plant that gave my skin blisters. been pissing on it 4-5 times a day ever since.