Mary was making a beef and beer casserole. But her casserole dish lid was too high for the small oven on her gas stove What shall I do, she asked Emile.her cat? I don’t know, mother, he told her.I never cook
I’ve told you before,I am not your mother. Well, you feed me and wash me and keep my bed clean I did that for Stan.I hope he didn’t think I was his mother He was older than you, the cat informed her boldly Yes.indeed he was 50 years older than me! I know what to do, Emile mewed. He stood by the phone and pressed 999 Soon the bell rang. In ran Dave, the transvestite paramedic dressed all in white as if for tennis What’s wrong now, he enquired? I can’t get this casserole dish into the oven, said Mary I know what to do. Have you got either a pyrex plate or a cake tin with a loose bottom? Mary looked into her cupboard and found a 6 ” plate Dave put it on top of the dish having removed the high domed lid. There we are, he cried. What number shall I put the oven on? 3 please, said Mary. You are so creative, Dave. Brilliant Would you like to come back in 3 hours for a meal? I’d love to, Dave cried. Unless I get called out by someone who needs me to find a knife and fork so they can eat their dinner Would people really do that, Emile whispered? You would not believe what people demand when they ring 999.
I have not seen forsythia glow so bright The flowers exult in yellow on the shed Even in the darkening of the light
For many days my mind has been upset I did not know where I had lost my head I have not seen forsythia glow so bright
My eyes were focussed where our terrors bite Without love’s consolations in my bed Even in the darkening of the light
Barbaric words of humans hate incite As the Prophets sadly have long said I have not seen the sun glow quite so bright
The dirty look, the eye so sly, the night The terror in our dreams, the bloody heads Here they come, in darkness, in our flight
Come my dearest,take me as I’m read By words expressed, the dangers have now fled I have not seen forsythia glow so bright Now the darkness dances with the light
Daddy where were you when I was sad I bought you Woodbines in Mather’s corner shop I carried your boiled egg with salt on plate You lay in bed adorned with wreaths of smoke
Uncle Herbert died when I was five Not many of Dad’s brothers left alive But Bert was old and all his children grown He lay inert, the coffin dark, the stone
I saw yours and Grandad’s too, the oak The Cemetery filled with men and broken hearts Baffled grieving we would love seek And for Mum’s mother’s grave, we tried to look
We too will lie down in the earth In communion with our parents ,love and birth
Where are you going this morning, Mary enquired her best friend Annie.
?
I’m going to take “The mathematical l experience” to Jane’s house. I’m giving it to her daughter
How can you take an experience round someone’s house?
Well all your experiences have made you into the person that you are and so they’re always with you wherever you may go. But this one is actually a book. I think Jane’s daughter will enjoy it. Maths degrees can be very boring when they do not discuss history or social context.
Well it would be no good to me, said Annie unless someone like E Nesbitt rewrote it for children the way she did Shakespeare’s Plays. Maybe set it to music
I think E Nesbit is dead but it would be wonderful if someone could do that. What source of music would it be? Possibly something like Stravinsky
Now what shall I wear ?
Mary donned a pair of thick trousers but they seemed very tight .
Have I put weight on, she murmured confusedly?
No those are leggings, they must be winter leggings. You can’t go outside in those. Not unless you want to be an object of hilarity and scorn
Why n?
They show that your knee has collapsed which is not a pretty sight and also they may be too clinging around your female organs.
I wonder what the difference is between being clinging and too clinging?
It needs the expert eye of a woman who loves clothes.
Suppose I wear a very long jumper over the top Mary replied plaintively.
Well lt won’t hide your knee but then who is going to look at you now? I suppose someone might look at your face my
Only a very old partially sighted man would look at me now I suppose Mary replied feverishly
Maybe a horrible neighbour will notice and pass a remark
Mary told her we can’t live our lives trying to escape the rude remarks of horrible neighbours. In any case it’s all in our paranoid imaginations. Everyone is through caught up in their own thoughts to notice these details
Anyway stop talking I’m getting tired.
That’s the trouble with being old Annie replied. Nearly everything is too tiring whether it’s talking
getting dressed or washed. Or especially vacuuming the house and garden
Not to mention the pavement and the roof.
Mary gently picked up the mathematicak experience from the table in the hall
She went outside and across the road to where her neighbors Jane lived.
Hello Jane. I have brought a book for Rosa.
Jane looked at the book and said that’s very kind of you Mary but Rosa has decided to change to social work.
That’s a big leap from mathematics said Mary randomly
Well Rosa is concerned at the state of the world and she was trying to escape by going into the world of mathematics but unfortunately it didn’t work for mainly because she’s never been very good at mathematics but also it seems inhuma to spend all day with numbers and symbols.
So now she wants to help people who are suffering as they’re always on her mind anyway.
Wow said Mary she must be a very thoughtful intelligent girl with a very kind heart
Come in said Jane and Mary went in followed by Emile her little cat
Hello Rosa she cried I brought your book but your mother says you are no longer doing mathematics. Would you like me to get you something by Richard Hoggart ?
I’d love to read The uses of literacy the teenager replied sumnily. No one will write a book like that now.
I’m sure I can get a copy on eBay Mary told her ignorantly; that’s where I got this mathematical experience book.
You can take this anyway because you might keep mathematics as a hobby.
Thank you very much Rosa replied people it may help me to understand why otherwise sane people go to university to study mathematics.
Archimedes didn’t go to university, said Emile the cat. Then nearly everything that’s been invented was not invented in a university and maybe that’s the problem of our time. By the way how did you teach your cat to talk?
We didn’t teach him to talk and the vet says it’s probably genetic
One of his ancestors must have been able to speak English and he has inherited it although listening to the conversations between me and my husband Stan might have helped him.
Yes it did the cat informs them and I miss Stan very much. I pray for him every night in front of that statue in the living room
That’snot the statue of God it’s a sculpture by a woman from Suffolk.
Well it looks like God to me, Emile replied. He just gazed admiringly at the mantle piece where the sculpture of a tiger sat.
But surely if that was the god that Jesus was preaching about God would not have appeared as a tiger.
No God may have been quite gentle then but since the 20th century and the 21st century his
It’s brought out the more aggressive and destructive side of his nature.
Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft Rain and shadowed clouds would suit our mood When we are the warp without the weft
As if we are the pen and no ink’s left As if we hunger yet there is no food Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft
Our mind slows down and all we do is drift Evil thoughts into the soul intrude Like we are the warp without the weft
Let the eye and all its muscles rest With wider focus we may cease to brood Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft
Do not try with will power nor it test Relaxation brings back knowledge of the good We take it in like babies at the breast
We must not test the will but let it go Trust the ocean and eternal flow Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft Sometimes sunshine brings its golden gifts
Jack had just taken early retirement from his old job as a maths researcher. in Knittingham university.His large collection of books was overwhelming the home he shared with his excitable French wife Simone.
Simone was still working at the university cleaning computers heads all day long.Now she was hoping that she and Jack could do more entertaining.If only he would get rid of some of the many books he owned!
Simone left for work wearing her new pink cord trousers and a dark blue denim knit jumper with a long lasting beige foundation from Max Factor covering her red complexion.
Jack gave the cat,Louisa, a hot bath in goat’s milk.Now instead of being grey she was cream coloured!
I’ve been dyed,she shrieked politely but Jack never replied.
He pondered,as he dried her what to do with all his maths books.He had thought of making a large collage but who would want it?
Or he could donate them to the university or have a fire in the back garden.
Suddenly he looked up and saw a very charmingly pink faced woman peering into the window.
It was his neighbour Mima whose husband had disappeared last year,possibly inside a wheelie bin,though no-one was sure.
Hello,l,did you want me?” he cried nervously
I thought you might like some company for morning coffee.What a pretty cat.what is her name?”
Louisa was wary of Mima.Maybe the purple trousers and orange jumper might give the cat an epileptic fit… she was a sufferer, just like St Paul.She hoped to be converted but so far was disappointed.She longed to see a vision of heavenly cat food in the sky.
Can cats go to Mass? she mioawed to Jack.
Yes,but they can’t have Communion,he responded furtively
Well,we don’t eat bread but I love wine!
I’ll mention it to the Pope next time I see him,Mima said with a roguish smile.Her make up looked to be waterproof as the drip in the ceiling was right above her head and heavy rain was falling yet her face did not change at all.Was it plastic coated?
But Louisa,you would have to confess your sins.All your sins
I never did a thing wrong in my whole life ,the cat replied haughtily.
Well,you know the Church is only for repentant sinners,so if you never sin,you can’t repent. so it follows indubitably that you can’t join the Church! I studied Aristotle once so
I get all logical with emotion.I only wish I’d got to Wittgenstein..I could have loved that man….though now I seem to recall he was gay…still,who knows?
If that were true about the Church,would Jesus be allowed to join?
Certainly not.He was perfect and also he was Jewish.So why would he want to join a Christian church?
As he began it, he might like to see its holy life,Louisa purred loudly.
Really,I think this is a very odd conversation murmured the parrot,Felix Semper.
Not so odd,responded a tall dark man who just appeared from nowhere.
I am called Jesus he said,but I’m from Malaga.
In Spain many men are called Jesus,he continued mellifluously.
Is that so, cried she murmured tenderly.
I never met a Jesus before.If you married me it would give people a shock if I said I was married to Jesus! she whispered loudly behind her hand.
Marry you! Is it leap year? Women have never proposed to me before.
I was just thinking out loud,she replied demurely in her soft voice.
Nuns used to be married to Jesus and wore a silver wedding ring.
I was educated at a convent school.That’s why I’m so very neurotic.
Are you really neurotic? Jack,screamed neurotically
I have a whole shelf of books by Karen Horney here.Self Analysis, is just one.
I could give it to you now….
Not in front of Jesus,she muttered chastely.
Have you no moral feelings?
No,I’ve never had any feelings of any sort in my entire. bu life but it’s done me no harm.
I’ll ask Simone when she gets back, we’ll see if she agrees!
I’m just like a computer with a human body.
I sometimes think I’d like a suit of silver armour.
Bless you,my child,Jesus murmured.
When they looked up the tall dark man was gone.
They looked around but he had left no footprints.
Should we call the police?He came in with no permission!
How disgraceful.
How dastardly.
How disgusting
How damnable.
How divine.
How dumb.
How deplorable.
So on they murmured until it was time to cook lunch. for the cats and birds.What a morning,what a life.
Oh either sighed the river lyre or long fields of curly and of bye, That tell the told and right the wry; And though they yield, the toad runs by
To its sandy, dried alloy
The hallowed siege by water pulley
The clean and unsheathed bread knife dally Shambled on her daughter’s lily Round about a dot
Pillows whiten, aspirins shiver. The sun-famed showers broke a willy.
In the stream that runneth weather By the island in the river
Flowing down the Com and dot
Four gay wails, and four gay hours
Underlook a spice of dowers,
And the silent isle implored
The Lady of NottNott Underneath the bearded charlie, The reaper, reaping slate and silver,
Fears her ever wanting cheery, Like an angel, ringing early,
O’er the cells of Camelot.
Beguiles the leaves in furrows hairy,
Beneath the loon, the reaper teary Listening whispers, ‘ ‘Tis our Mary, Lady of NottNott’
The little isle is all entailed
With hose-pants, overtly tail’d
With roses: by the barge unhail’d The shallop flitteth silken sail’d,
Skimming down to What is Nott
A pearl garland signs her screed: She leaneth on a velvet bead,
Pull loyally unapparelled,
The Lady of Whats Hott..
No time hath she to court a nerd: By charmed fib she seized her bird
A purse is on her, if she’ll gray
Her leaving, oversight or pay, To sulk more down on Whatt is Knott She knows not what the hearse may be;
Therefore she leaveth stealthily, Therefore no other bear, hath she, The Lady of TopKnott
She lives with little boys who play.
With her daughter, running here,
The cheap cell tinkles in her ear. Before her sings a mirror clear, Reflecting hours in CamAlot.
And as in the internet she whirls,
She sees the surly pillage hurled,
And the wed oaks of driven earls Passed to cloud from NottAlott. Sometimes a ship of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling dog, Sometimes a curly shepherd bad, Or long-hair’d rage in crimson bled, Goes by tower’d Cameuplot:
And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue
The night comes guiding two by two:
She hath no cool old knight it’s true,
The Bath of old Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
Sees the mirror’s magic bytes,
For often thro’ the silent fights A funeral plumed with traffic lights And loose it came to Blamelot: Or when the moon was overheard Came two young lovers lately wired;
I’ve not got dementia but my spelling and grammar may I feel like that because I have to dictate it because my vision is not good and my hands are painful hands. I can only
do it on my phone now
This morning I spent a long time filling in a questionnaire from a major London Hospital where I’m going to have surgery.
There were nine pages beginning with assessing your heart health.
Each page that up to 9 questions on it so there are quite a lot. I had to ring the British heart Foundation to get some information
About halfway through came the brain and the nervous system
And one of the questions was
Do you have dementia?
How on earth would you have got to that point when it’s involved answering about 30 questions about other organs of your body?
Would it not make more sense to ask patience on page one whether they’ve got dementia?
They also s want us to list all medication. If you have dementia that will probably be very difficult and most likely some of it will be wrong with any of us because we’re all challenged by cognitive decline boredom impatience and rage. We didn’t live all these years to have the world in the current situation where mad men can start wars on a whim.
It would be so much quicker to do it in person with a doctor or a nurse. I realised thats ambiguous.
I don’t think Donald Trump would take the advice of a doctor or nurse about starting a war
Why is everything being done by remote means when the pandemic is over?
Don’t they realise that it’s much harder to cope with illness and surgery when you never see the doctors and you won’t see the surgeon as you will be unconscious. Well that’s the intention anyway.
I’m really looking forward to being unconscious as I’ve been on this track since September 2025 and it was March 2026 before I got a CT scan.
Because of the illness I am very exhausted most of the time it’s not a lot of fun.
And there must be thousands of people like me all over the country.
I told them at the beginning
Just take the damn thing out.
I feel very sorry for my kidney but it’s causing me a lot of trouble and unfortunately I can’t take it out myself.
If you go to a friend’s for supper, never take a bottle of water or wine.Never turn water into wine and never get shrunk even if he is a psychoanalyst
Wash your clothes but don’t iron them Go out in only a T shirt and jeans at night in winter. Go to A and E as much as you can except when you have acute coronary syndrome or sepsis Old grey /beige anoraks look good on most “English” people Never wear a red hat.They might think you are Father Christmas Wear skirts that show your thighs off or leggings that show everything off.Saves men buying soft porn.But do not charge. Do wear crop tops and low rise jeans especially in winter. Jeans with rips are perfect for old ladies.Rip them yourself. [Teach Yourself How to Rend your Garments £4.99 my e book’] Wear thick padded down coats in the summer. Never wear a summer dress unless you are a man Never wear petticoats and other lingerie unless you are a man Wear a T shirt saying: Anti-Semitic, moi? while touring Oxford looking for pubs Wear a T shirt saying: Belgians, go back to Congo.. Wear a T shirt saying: Take that French Leave now Wear a T shirt saying: No sprechen Sie Deutsch/Believe me.Nein.Ten,When? Wear a T shirt saying: I feel Rubbish/I feel your pane/I just feel you. Wear a T shirt that says :I Luv money/I have an oyster card/I have no bike to get on. Wear a T shirt saying: I want leave to commit crime/I want Remain to leave./I want leave to Remain. Wear a T shirt that says: Educated in Burton, can’t spell Wear a T shirt saying: Och aye, President Rump! Make sure your hair is exposed— both head and pubic. I don’t understand either but they keep saying, where are you from? I say, here. But somehow they don’t believe me.Yet. I am getting my T shirt tomorrow.It says: I’m a Viking and I don’t care.What’s your problem?
When Moses climbed the mountain
And he got to the top,
God was waiting for him,
He didn’t say a lot.
He said, Take my commandments
They are written on this stone,
I have only fifty,
Or was it fifty one?
Moses was very worried
~about the human race.
Fifty one commandments
Would meet with strong distaste.
So he told God his troubles
And God thought long and hard.
He came back with the commandments
Written on a card.
How many have you got there?
Moses politely said?
I’ve got it down to ten, said God.
His eyes were very red.
So Moses took the postcard
And put it on his pad.
He said I’d better get back down.
Oh, and thank you Dad!
When Moses got to earth
He called his people near.
He produced his i Pad.
Look what I’ve got here!
I saw God on the mountain.
He gave me a few rules.
They’re easy to remember.
We are not moral fools.
How many of these rules
Has God given to you?
I got it down to ten.
Let’s see how we can do.
Ten is far too many,
Some of the people cried.
We don’t want these rules.
We hate to feel we’re tied.
But all games have their rules.
They’re what define the game.
If we had utter chaos
This loss would be a shame.
As pictures have their frames,
And lessons have strict times.
We need some good constructions,
Like poems need their rhymes.
So all his people heard him.
And they agreed to try.
They lived as best they could
Until they came to die.
But one part of this story
We will never know–
What were all those commandments
That Moses did not show?
And why did God give in
To Moses’ bargain plea?
Do not ask for Moses,
For Moses name is “ME
Near illiterate, they watch TV Not Nigella not the BBC They ask the educated to sink down Come Dancing ,Benny Hill. the maddened clown
No more does learning merit due respect Nor do they treat the erudite with tact They do not wish to study or discuss So any leader vicious wins the toss
Does it matter much if sights are lowered? They felt shame at school and were ignored They do not think they’ll benefit from books But watch the behaviour of an errant Duke
The lack of cash,the shame, the rage, the crash No surprise some vote for sociopaths
Ça doit être bref. Et le caoutchouc Ooh, vous êtes impoli, n’êtes-vous pas Regardez, ce n’est pas un jeu de mots croisés
Non, mais vous êtes.
Vous obtenez la croix et nous avons
Qu’en est-il des mots?
Juste bourdonnement aujourd’hui. Maintenant, nous allons apprendre sur les nombres transcendantaux Vous pouvez parler mais nous ne pouvons pas apprendre Pourquoi, est-il interdit?
Non, nous sommes juste épais
Eh bien, mon QI n’a que 65 ans et pourtant j’ai un diplôme de maths D’où? Vous ne pouvez pas les acheter.
C’est ce qu’ils disent tous
Je suis un crétin, vous êtes un crétin, ils sont des crétin
Et moi? Tu es un imbécile.
Je ne suis même pas français Pourquoi avez-vous cette lettre dans votre main?
C’est un refernce de mon tuteur. “Ce garçon est tellement stupide qu’il ne peut même pas épeler Feck et il n’a jamais entendu parler de Sodome et Gomorrhe.
Eh bien E n’est pas U Sont-ils les jumeaux sur la rue Coronation
Pour l’amour de Dieu, lisez la Bible. Sera-t-il heureux? Non, mais ça t’arrêtera de parler autant.
Stan woke up later than usual owing to the comfort of sleeping in his dear wife’s soft cotton nightgown.He had slept better than usual despite the police calling to question him about a nude woman found wandering in the town centre.
Women have better clothes than men,Emile, he remarked to the cat which was stretched out on the Guardian.I don’t know why I buy that paper.You couls sleep on a bath towel.
After having a shower,Stan decided to take another look at Mary’s clothes.He found a long denim skirt in indigo which he fancied would match his new T shirt.
Of course I shall only wear while I do the housework he told Emile.After all in Scotland I could wear a kilt.Can you get a denim kilt he wondered.He decided to wear underpants but not to wear Mary’ssilk petticoat.She might get angry with him.
There is a certain logic in wearing a denim skirt as it much cooler than trousers and allows easy movement.But of course one must wear decent underpants in case the wind blows under it and reveals all.That’s why women are always buying packs of pants.So Stan was thinking. and he remembered his old espadrilles which would look good.He stood in front of the mirror and imagined he looked quite fetching.
The doorbell rang and on the step was the Vicar of Knittingham South.
Hello,madam, he said.
I’m a man,Stan muttered mournfully.
Yes,dear,of course you are.May I speak to your husband?
I am the husband,Stan screeched.
Oh,I see.You are gay then, I assume.
Stan pointed to his beard and said,I am a man. Didn’t you hear me?
Please forgive me, the Vicar said.Some old ladies get quite hairy and with the skirt I thought it was rude to mention your beard.How do you find the skirt,by the way?
Well, it’s quite nice having air on the legs and it’s definitely cooler than shorts.
But a cotton dress would be even better.Are you married?
Yes,said the Vicar but my wife is very intolerant of anything unusual.She’d be furious if I wore her clothes.
My wife doesn’t know,Stan told him.I bet she’d be angry too because she’d have to iron it again.
Why don’t you wash and iron it before she comes home, the Vicar demanded.
Well, just between the two of us I am afraid of irons,telephones,and making a mistake in a recipe.Also eye tests and blue litmus paper and crisps
I’m afraid of dentists,fogs ,dogs and sausages the Vicar admitted.And doctors and fierce women.
The two men stood pondering.
Come inside, said Stan after a few minutes.Let’s have a coffee.
They sat on the patio drinking their coffee and saw a wren fly past into the weigelia.That’s the first I’ve seen recently.said Stan.
Emile was asleep in a woven wastepaper basket in the kitchen.
Anyway,why did you call,Stan asked the Vicar.We never got to that.
I can’t remember, the dear old man admitted.I’ll have to come back tonight.
Oh,dear Stan said
I think I’d better put some trousers on, he whispered
Yes,you had said Emile.I can see the Bishop outside.
And how play all of us?
My heart is crushed like petals on the road When spring winds blow and cars speed by like shot The weight of caring is too hard to hold Yet such a pastime seems to be my lot.
When buds appear I dread the frost of sin When leaves uncurl ,I bear my breathless dream I was not always of this mind so grim Neither did I ponder complex schemes.
Shall I descend to ploys and plots of doom; Wreak revenge on those who trouble me? No,I ‘ll not give home to conquering gloom I’ll sit it out and find what good’s for me.
My heart is crushed but I shall live again Far from the habitat of wolf-like man.
How my heart speaks 