Mary writes a letter

The Pilchards.
23,Sweetnames Avenue
Near Nottingham.
Dear Jane

Hope you are keeping well in this unusually cold spring weather.

Stan has had flu.It made him so bad tempered and waspish
that I took up the Duraglit polish and got him to polish all the brass,
except the front door knob, as that doesn’t come off.
Mind you,it made the bedroom smell odd… a mistake,perhaps…
so I sprinkled lavender oil around.
He seems to get thinner and I seem to get fatter.
So our average w eight remains constant.
What a relief.I’d like to be weighed as a married woman.
Can you believe this..
I’ve got chilblains! It’s those dratted blood vessels of mine.
Still,I polished some old plum colored leather and wear them in the house.
We seem to be doing polishing frequently here.. boots,furniture,apples.
How is your new book “Nonsense:A.N.Whitehead and Lewis Carroll” coming on?
Hope it’s progressing….to a nonsensical ending.
I’ve got a new book of poetry coming out in April
[from Polar bears publishers]
It’s called,”An unpolished performance.”
My fourth book on Wittgenstein‘s cats is almost finished.
And the publishers can’t wait for the photographs…I’ll get a friend to do those for me!!
It gives me a change from all that polishing.
I’ve begun to talk to myself out loud…. in the street.
Just seeing if I can still do my old Lancashire accent.
I suppose it might  worry people but no one has said anything as yet.They may be afraid.
“That which is unsaid can,nevertheless,still be heard.
Stan is still involved romantically with Anne, our next door neighbor.
I can’t blame him as chilblains and Wittgenstein not very romantic.
When I think of how we used to be,it makes me smile and feel sadness too.
I wonder if I can find someone new for a romance,myself… someone with Asperger’s syndrome
possibly…as I’ve just been diagnosed.It’s quite common in mathematicians.It may be an
advantage in concentrating a lot
I need a boyfriend with weak eyes as my clothes are all full of moth holes
and I’m damned if I’m going to buy new ones.
I can’t see well enough to darn but I’ve sewn the holes up neatly thus
giving a strange pleated effect to my clothes.
On my merino wool knitted trousers, one hole was right on the ass.
It looks now as if I’ve been shot in the rear…
but I can’t see it.So it does not exist.
Sometimes in the past I would iron on those motifs like
I think it would look odd having a butterfly just there…. or indeed
anything else like wild rose.
I could make a little sign saying
“Keep clear,from my rear.This is a hole where a moth scored a goal.”
Still,not many people are going to look there now I hope….
I seem to have stopped knitting but am still drawing.
Meantime I’ve just ironed some of my winter clothes as it’s still chilly..
and am planning to iron all my pink and blue knickers now
as I believe it kills any germs left when you wash at 30 deg.I got those colours in case I should
change sex or is it gender?
I wonder if I should iron the sheets?
Could I do it while they are on the bed?
I don’t wash them much as it wears them out and me too.
I am going to take up baking again because Stan is getting so thin.
I fancy a Russian cheesecake as it had a lot of protein in it.
I have a genuine Russian cookbook and also am waiting for a delivery of a
Jewish cookery book as I have lost it fell down onto my head last week
.God only knows where that came from.
but I believe there were good cheesecakes as Jewish cooking has much in
common with Russian,perhaps because once many Jews lived in Russia.I just
made friends with one here….he is charming and like me he hates golf.
I have got almost all the Penguin cookery books ever printed but mislaid a
In fact it’s quite hard to get into the kitchen
with all these books on the shelves.And a little food.
I was comforted to read that the parent’s of John Burra,the artist,
had books piled every where in their large house….
and he was very untidy too.
So all I need is  talent and practice and I’ll be an artist.
After all,anyone can be untidy but not everyone will practice their Art.
I’d like to practice the arts of love.
They say you should love your neighbor as yourself,
but personally I prefer the neighbor or even the milkman to myself.
Meanwhile I’m happy with Emile our cat
and my 500 photos of Wittgenstein.
I shall make Stan a lemon sponge pudding.
That is the love he wants…Food.
“If music be the food of love I’ll cohabit with a pure white dove.
And while he coos and sings for me.
I’ll try not to :fall out of the tree,
Get stung by a bee,
Make more  enemies
Let my thought free,
Hurt my knee.
Let moths frighten me.
Well,time for some tea.
Now Jane, please write to me soon.
I love to see your so strangely beautiful handwriting
and to hear about Whitehead and Cambridge and all the weird dons.
I hope it’s not too damp and cold there near that river.
Keep warm and make a note of any intriguing happenings to relate to me.
And anything beautiful you can see or hear.I hope Edward is writing
regularly..where is he doing his research now… did you say Stanford?
Maybe you should install Skype..then again,perhaps not as you would have to
wash your hair too much… and comb it too…perhaps we could wear wigs.
Do write soon,Love always,Mary.

It’s louder than winks to a London bus


A house divided against itself cannot land on the runway

A louse has not a hope here

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single  rucksack and a re boot

A leopard cannot change its dots apres Monet.

A little knowledge is a dangerous thing

A little of what you fancy gives you twins

A man who is his own lawyer has a tool for his client

A kiss is as good as a smile

A new broom sweeps  a black mass under the bed

A nod’s as good as a wink to a kind fool

A penny read is a penny learned

A person is known by the company he runs

A  stricture   yells a   thousand swear words

A place for everything and everything in  the fried plaice

A poor jerk in Japan  once played the fool

A problem shared is a problem spread

A prophet  does not fraternize with his own hands

A rising tide lifts  up all rubbish

A soft  chancer turneth away from the bath

A stitch in time saves rhymes.

A swarm in May is worth a load of  neighs a swarm in June is worth a silver  tune; but a swarm in July is not worth an eye

A fling of beauty is a sin forever

A  nude volunteer is worth twenty dressed men

A watched snake never uncoils

A woman is  more than any man, but a good cigar is a  joke

A woman’s place is in the foam

A woman’s work is not entirely fun

A word  of advice is enough for a sentence to be passed

Absence makes the heart grow  longer and the lungs go yonder

Absolute power disrupts absolute power.

Actions’re  esteemed louder than winks

Adversity makes strange bedfellows keep warm

After a storm comes a calm nothingness.

All good things come to he who  irradiates

All good things must come  round the  bend

All is grist that dumbs  my new will.

 Bad publicity may be good  advertising

All roads lead to Joan

All that glisters is not told

All the world loves  to bother me

All things come to those in state

All bling will pass but my blog will never end.I wrote it on a  Mobius strip of paper,you see

All work and no play makes Jack a neurotic obsessive just like me

All you   read  about is love so who records the hate?

All’s fair , he loves  to annoy justly

All’s for the best in the best of all possible swirls



“The genius of a composer is found in the notes of his music; but analyzing the notes will not reveal his genius. The poet’s greatness is contained in his words; yet the study of his words will not disclose his inspiration. God reveals himself in creation; but scrutinize creation as minutely as you wish, you will not find God, any more than you will find the soul through careful examination of your body.”
Anthony de Mello, Awakening: Conversatio

Cynosure,what does it mean? This is from the oxford dictionary and you can click below


Line breaks: cyno|sure

Pronunciation: /ˈsʌɪnəʃʊə/ /ˈsɪnəʃʊə/ /ˈsʌɪnəzjʊə/ /ˈsɪnəzjʊə/

Definition of cynosure in English:



A person or thing that is the centre of attention or admiration:Kirk was the cynosure of all eyes


Late 16th century: from French, or from Latin cynosura, from Greek kunosoura ‘dog’s tail’ (also ‘Ursa Minor’), from kuōn, kun- ‘dog’ +oura ‘tail’. The term originally denoted the constellation Ursa Minor, or the pole star which it contains, long used as a guide by navigators.

“Unforgettable Senior Moments” Huffington Post

“At age 4 success is…not peeing your pants.
At age 12 success is…having friends.
At age 17 success is…having a driver’s license.
At age 20 success is…having sex.
At age 35 success is…having money.
At age 50 success is…having money.
At age 65 success is…having sex.
At age 70 success is…having a driver’s license.
At age 75 success is…having friends.
At age 80 success is….not peeing your pants.”
I think my score is  zero!


Love thinking about you.

Love,thinking about you.

Love thinking,about you……

Thinking about you,love.

Thinking love about you.

You, thinking about love.

You thinking about love?

You love thinking about….

You about,thinking love?

About you,love,thinking.

About thinking,love you.,Love Thinking

Love, Thinking


Come love,stop thinking.

How come there’s love about?

Think about it

I love you like

 I love you like I'd love a black walnut.
You're so rare I can't eat you.
I'll put you in my pocket
and take you with me
when I go in town
I'll feel your crinkles and your wrinkles,
But nobody will know.

I love you like I'd love a comice pear.
I'll put you in a golden bowl.
I'll let the sun shine on you,
Till you are ripe.
I'll put you in my bag,
Take you to a meadow of buttercups
And devour you.
And nobody will know.

I love you like I'd love a flower.
I'll give you my best vase.
I'll stand it in the window.
Then I'll look at you all day
With my peripheral and my central vision,
Till your pattern is embedded in my brain.
I'll sleep well and dream of you all night.
When I'll wake up ,I'll remember everything

Absquatulate, the limericks

Absquatulate is a new word to me.

It’s Latin like,esse= to be

Non cogitate sum

The cat bit my thumb….

Then absconded to new territory.


Perambulators are essential  today

For  picking  up babes from their play.

They should have three wheelers

In  second hand   dealers,

Or maybe just look on e bay

Sans humor


He absquatulated  to a foreign country and ended up  on a mountain where God did not give him the ten commandments despite his demands.That’s the thing about God.He is very obstinate I find.He is the opposite of a computer.He is in no need of updates, though we are.Is death an update?

He once absconded from Maidstone Jail  because he wanted to perambulate down the King’s Road.However the police caught him and he is onstage now in Gone with the Wind in Reading Jail

I did not absquatulate  from Washington because I didn’t know the word.Besides I’ve never even been there.I can’t prove it logically so take my word and memorize it immediately.

ABSQUATULATE:from the Oxford dictionary

absquatulateLine breaks: ab|squatu|late

Pronunciation: /əbˈskwɒtʃʊleɪt/ /əbˈskwɒtjʊleɪt/

Definition of absquatulate in English:


[NO OBJECT, WITH ADVERBIAL] humorous, chiefly North American

Leave abruptly:some overthrown dictator who had absquatulated to the USA


Pronunciation: /əbskwɒtjʊˈleɪʃ(ə)n/



Mid 19th century: blend (simulating a Latin form) of abscond, squattle ‘squat down’, and perambulate.

Definition of absquatulate in:

Dress politely


Always dress politely

Speak in a good design.

Listen with  both eyes wide open.

Never take off your hat in bed especially when married.

Change your habits once a day.

Charge the linen for its own laundry.

Boil an egg in the toaster and toast the bread by sunlight.

Always wear a watch in the shower.

Don’t change sex twice.

Make up your mind creatively.

Treat people with tact unless you are a doctor.Then use force.

Never give advice verbally.

Learn how to wink

Drink tea from the cat’s bowl  if possible.

Let the cat sleep with your partner now and then.

Try not to wound other people.. if you didn’t know there are any then seek advice from yourself now.

I am not you.

I wear my heart displayed upon my face.

I wear my heart displayed upon my face.
Attentive readers find their meaning there..
Where feelings thought too deep to be embraced
Can shine demurely where they do not scare.

As Freud observed we're never quite disguised
Betrayal is our body's real motif.
The message comes conspicuous from the eyes.
Bright sparkles or your tears of blackest grief.

The answer to a question seemly leaps
So Yes or No is visibly revealed.
The blush that spreads so fast across the cheeks
Both bold and shy unable to conceal.

Your face tells me you lied when Love you cried.
Depart from me,for liars I can't abide.


Even my cold blood.

When of the world of doctors,I am sick.
When diagnosis is not any aid
When from the choices given, I cannot pick
Although I feel my deepest debts were paid.

Then off from thinking I must take my mind
To gaze upon the beauty of the woods
And feel the sun not fiery, even kind
It warms and heartens even my cold blood.

The trees are calm for they have grown deep roots
Though storms may strike their trunks and branches too
breaking off new tender green tipped shoots
They sway and take it without much to do.

Strength needs flexibility and give;
With no such, the brittle shall not live.

Words rise up

  Words rise up like geese at dawn,
When ,in  pale sun, new day is born.
The words approach,  and pause in line;

The choice I make is mine.

Words  spelled here by sense and sound,
In clause and sentence weave around.
Which eager  words shall I now use

And which  shall I refuse?

 The fire  lights up inside my heart,
And now my writing hand can start
I sit down at my desk and say
This is the way I spend my day
With words  I dance and play.

Geese fly by

 It’s Autumn weather, geese fly by;
Autumn rust,red,gold,so gay;

Drystone walls edging fields,

Apples gathered,holly berries

Flash so brightly

Look like flowers

Sun shines sideways,shadows long

Of trees appear,I dwell among,

Woods of gentle beeches sing

Swaying with the sideward wind.

See their roots, all intertwined.

Feel their geometry in the mind.

Look up now into the sky,

See the V formation high.

Geese fly home at end of day.

My heart is moved by patterned dance

In this peace and great silence

My mind widens like the sky

And in this moment I would die,

So I would stay with this still vision

Of geese set out on autumn mission.

Snails in rain pools slither near

My feet upon the terrace here

And look,upon their whorled backs

All the sense of life is packed.
 Yet so easily Life’s destroyed,

When blind foot steps into the void

In the dark

Fifty more maths classes banned from TV

I chose to study mathematics at A level because I has no imagination and thought complex numbers were men with   problems.And they were just an invention and did not  really exist like ellipses and infinity do.Then I made a fatal error by passing the exams.Thus it was I entered into a place of learning.I was severely disappointed as none of the staff seemed to be yearning for  the mystical experience of discovering a new mathematical truth but were only interested in proving ones made by others.Proof had to be logical….. but logic was never defined.Is that logical?

Thus it happened that after an extremely hard algebraic number  of years I turned a corner and realised it was symbols not signs I was looking for.Symbolic Logic has nothing to do with symbols in that sense.It’s not as interesting as Chess which I only played once.Playing Chess ruined my marriage, as my husband informed me after 44 years that my winning our only match  infuriated him to the nth degree.My suggestion that we get divorced and split  our money was hampered by him dying the following week.He also informed me I was  too intelligent and spoke too fast.Too fast for what?On the whole I find it’s better not to speak to a boyfriend  for as long as possible,.Men like mystery.So they claim.

I got married because I am afraid of upsetting a man but then I ended up doing that.I tried very hard but as I said I have no imagination and no small talk so maybe being a sheep farmer might have been wiser.My husband said he never wanted to see me again and then asked me to wash 7 pairs of pyjamas and  his 4 cashmere sweaters because “they smelled funny” It was no  joke as well as cooking him several meals and writing 14 sonnets changing the sheets and telling him  humorous stories in the middle of the night.I suppose in the dark he couldn’t see me,I never thought of that before! A pity I ever bought “A survey of modern algebra” by Birkhoff and McLane.I didn’t buy it,it was a prize!!

Inchoate but I never did know it


If your  vocabulary includes   words like “inchoate”

You’re well spoken,though you don’t know  it.

For it’s  neither Hebrew  nor Greek,

It’s Latin you speak.

That’s alright for us proles and  the poets.


Though Hebrew  is older I think

As are nonverbal cues such as winks.

Do baboons sigh and grumble

As one start to mumble:

I think your new fur should be pink.


Aramaic is hardly spoken today…

So where did it vanish away?

Imagine if our tongue

Was silent thus  half wrong.

Aramaic ‘s  still useful for prayer.

Painted  3   My books and home 010