Sunday, December 8, 2013


It was a salutary jolt to read my self description, penned less than three years ago, as a writer with few as few possessions as possible.
Now, taking stock, I realise I am surrounded - indeed weighed down by an accumulation of possessions. Whilst still much less than most Westerners, compared to my neighbours, it is a veritable  Aladdin's cave of stuff, stuffed into my wee river cottage.

So, clear out time. And good timing ~ New Year coming up. And Tet.

Computer, yes, iPad likewise. Phone yes. But what about all those leads? That tangle of wires belong to something or other like perhaps an internet thingy? Or is it a modern thingy? Or are they the same thing? Or thingy? And I just know that if I chuck them out, one will be an essential thingy unobtainable in Vietnam. Or even obsolete altogether but essential for .... something or other.

Motorbike, essential. But those spare helmets that are either too heavy or the visor is impossible to see through at night or the strap hurts, but other than that are fine? And those half tins/bottles/jam jars of oil? And the straps, chords, bags, and wee bits of string to tie something or other to the handlebars? then there is the rain trousers, the summer weight, the winter weight, the in-between weight? And four rain capes? Hmmm.

Furniture? too much. Chairs? too many. Rugs? Too many? ~ Nah, can never have too many kilims.

Clothing? Clothing ~ far, far too much. Shoes the same, far far too many pairs for a place like Vietnam. I mean what with riding a motorbike, tramping along unpaved roads, wading through mud, sand and the occasional flood all I really need are the Crocs. Shock horror, I who took taxis in London to preserve my green suede  Manolo's now wear Crocs. Sad sad day.

But some garments are a memory of dancing, and laughter, and journeys, and Hugh.

What to do? What to do? I know, forget about it and keep writing.

Aa' the best.

PS Buddha stays.