Winter had come very early to Knittingham yet owing to the late summer and wet autumn,many trees still had their leaves,,,,,,,,,,,some were even green.Stan and Mary were sitting in their mock Tudor cottage style kitchen eating muffins and honey with Earl grey tea in mugs.
Wow,it’s so cold,Mary remarked.
Now,Mary I have told you before that Wow is not a word I expect to hear from such a highly educated person as yourself….why waste your learning?All those years climbing over wallsOxford and dating clever doctors from Harvard…

Bollocks,Mary answered in a tone not unlike the late Rose Nordloch,philosopher extraordinaire who was famed for her obscene talk.
I am thinking of buying some woollen vests,she continued loudly.
Good grief!
What is it, my darling Stan said nosily.
Mary was looking at a catalogue of ladies clothing. and lingerie which had come in the postThey are £39 each,she said wonderingly.If I get three it will be nearly £120 plus postage.Just imagine,I may be unable to afford wool vests

Can’t you just buy one and wear it all winter like the Tudors did?her loving yet irascible husband replied

I think it would get smelly,my dear,even if I wore my anti -perspirant,Mary answered benignly.We should get wool vests from the Government to save us from going to A and E with double pneumonia,she continued softly…Shall we mention it at the Labour Party meeting? I can get it on the agenda

No,no,Stan cried,I want your lingerie to be a secret…

A woollen vest is hardly lingerie,she retorted.. sounding like a character from Barbara Pym‘s novels

Everything a lady wears under her dress in lingerie he murmured gently….bras,knickers,pantaloons,petticoats,vests,corsets,suspender belts.stockings,tights,trouser liners,lace,fine silk,short underskirts,long underskirts……..nighties

But some lingerie is more sensual…Stan said wistfully,recalling the brown silk underwear Mary used to wear before feminism made most lingerie a No,No! Anyway,Mary said,we are too old for sex….we are too stiff and we are too shy now as well

But not too old to have a few fantasies,Stan thought… and woollen vests did not feature in his… he preferred lace and silk with a hint of perfume…. maybe a little embroidery….a dying art

Emile came in and asked for a vest too and some underpants… suppose I wet them? he miaowed in a panic

Well,you can’t have a nappy,Emile.Stan informed him.

I have no desire for such things,Emile mioawed angrily…where is my food?

Oh, yes… it’s in the fridge,said Stan.He took a large goldfish out of the fridge
Where did you get that from? Mary asked fearfully
Oh,that tom cat down the road knocked a fish tank over and he gave Emile one
.But they are pets!She shrieked…. ring 999 now and ask for an ambulance

Dave the bisexual paramedic strode in looking merry.

It’s Frank,the gold fish,said Mary fearfully……………i he dead
He is not quite dead,Dave answered….get a bowl of rain water.He put Frank into the bowl and Frank began to swim…

Well, that’s a bloody miracle,Mary screamed. almost frightening Stan to death!

Just call him Lazy Lazarus.Dave quipped…he was in suspended animation.. fish are very clever.Would you like me to clean out the kitchen or fetch in some coal for the scuttle? he asked the old dears,

Thanks but not today,Dave.We were just discussing vests.Do you wear one?

Oh,yes.he said, and I wear a short petticoat too….I’dd love a silk one as I am a transexual too,so I believe

Very wise,Mary informed him.Underwear keeps us warm.

And it makes me hot,thought Dave…. but he said nothing.He kept his sex life almost a secret even from himself

Vests,thought Mary.

To buy or not to buy

That is my question

The water ripples in the early sun

The full dark river hurries to the sea

As powerful as s tiger on the run

As secretive as an en-cloistered nun

As poisonous as a snake out having fun

As other as a stranger is to me

As heavy as a heart when love won’t come

For the honeymoon we enjoyed the marriage bed too much to get off

The menu was homemade bones with gem for afternoon tea. And for dinner it was lamb drops on a bed of tomatoes and scullions.

When we came back to breakfast the next morning they were staring drilled bacon with eggs of the tide. As you can imagine we were very hungry but we could not co- ruminate well.

Co-rumination is quintessential in any marital situation. Please phone me for more information or email me at the following addresses one only per lesson

cellocat@strungup.org

primenumber8@cuboid.rum

marrymother@electricbill.com

If you are still a virgin after a week in this hotel please inform the manager immediately and he will try to recharge. Guests must be married but not necessarily to each other.

Funerals on request

Dear blister, thank you very much for your litter which I look forward to weekly.

I don’t have a lot of flood news this week as my teeth have been withering me a pain in the sack. My dentist is a young conman

Would you like one?

Is it earth thinking her boots gone?

She is very dutiful I’m taking the pill 3 times today

What do you think of purple incredibility?

Is it a circular tangent or cormorant?

Do you remember that one follow doesn’t make a career?

Take good bare of yourself and send one to me as soon as possible

By the way do you know what a tautology is?

If you find out anything interesting don’t let me know. I am averse to smacks

Goodbye for an hour (I did not say that)

Kathryn 

https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-android-motorola&sxsrf=APwXEdc-fCeofDSPkuk9mudQ3nHEiXtnOw:1679917544167&q=What+is+hostility&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi6hePDhPz9AhXGVMAKHcTZB78Q1QJ6BAg7EAE&biw=412&bih=764&dpr=1.75

Mary woke up as she heard a strange noise.Except it was not as she had overslept.
She put her head out of the window where a young man was standing by the wall
You can leave their parcel here, she cried in her muffled shriek
I have come to collect one, he responded
But they are not at home, she informed him.They have emigrated
No wonder, the man said.I’d like to escape from Dominic Cummings
Has he captured you?
He damages my soul and God is angry
Let’s leave God to one side.I know how you feel, I think
Thank you very much.God will remember
Mary sat in bed and wondered where Stan was.Suddenly she realised he was dead.
Emile came in purring loudly
Emile, is Stan really dead?
I think so although sometimes I think I see him in the kitchen with his Robert Carrier cookbook
Tears came into Mary’s eyes remembering all the meals Stan cooked
He would be horrified if he saw her eat a frozen shepherd’s pie or macaroni cheese straight from a tin
At least I still use Earl Grey Tea, she thought intelligently
Mary drank tea from a large blue mug; in fact it was half a pint of tea. She looked at her phone to see if any emails from her friends were there but none of her friends had written to her which could hardly be surprising as they had all written to her the day before
She saw a letter from British Gas offering her help during the lockdown but she didn’t use gas anymore. if they had been more compassionate when she was having trouble with her boiler she might still be using it but she had decided that gas was a bad thing; it made her think about horrible things like Sylvia Plath and the Holocaust
On the other hand electricity has also been used to harm people and kill them in the United States ;what was the answer?
The best thing is to get up at once. she said and read The Guardian the Times, Independent newspaper The Telegraph and the London Review of Books.By the time she has read all of those who would go back to bed?
Only a sex addict and has she had no husband that was impossible
After all, who prefers a plastic vibrator to a loving man or woman?Mary decided 4 Weetabix and some milk would make a very nice breakfast
Where is my breakfast, called Emile louder?
Oh dear I am very sorry , would you like some kippers for your breakfast
Thank you, Mother
How many times do I have to tell you that I am not your mother; I am human and you are a cat
But you are my mother in a metaphorical sense :you look after me, you feed me, you bath me
On the other hand I sleep on your bed and if I was your son you would not want me to sleep on your bed would you since I’m 18 years old?
No, it might look like incest Mary replied humorously but would an 18-year old youth be attracted to an older lady
Don’t ask me, he said, I am just a cat
I would not know my own mother if I met her and if she was willing I might even mate with her without knowing that she was my mother. God is very kind to animals in some ways but on the other hand why does he let people hunt and kill for fun?
Well he would not tell Job nor his so-called comforters so I don’t know whether he’s going to tell me; if he did tell me I might not be able to understand
Why not, said the cat?
When we don’t know what language God speaks how can we talk to him?
Only by paying attention in the Silence in the middle of a wood or a cathedral as long as it was not full of tourists and and dogs
Are dogs allowed to go inside a cathedral?
I don’t know said Mary I have never thought about it before but I would imagine they are banned because they might start Barking at the wrong moment
I could go to church, Emile cried
Do you want to go to church , Mary asked him
If there is nothing else to do, I will go to church, he mewed
That is not the right attitude, she told him, God is more important than anything else at all
How do you know God is not here in the house
Yes he is; he is everywhere but we can’t see him except in the eye of a child or or the smile of an old man when he is going to die peacefully in the arms of his wife
And what about the wife? the cat pondered<Shall I have to hold you in my arms so that I can see God in your smile as you pass away
Oh dear me said Mary. I never thought of that I am too big to go into your arms. I can go on a diet and save money by only eating half a tin of Heinz macaroni cheese for my supper and half a tin of vegetable soup for my lunch
It is impossible, the cat told her, because even if I eat a lot my legs will never go any longer and as mathematician you should be able to see that you would have to become as small as a tiny baby before I could put my arms around you
The end of a wonderful dream,sighed Mary
I’ll have to ask somebody else Dr Patel maybe if I can die in his arms|
It is like the ultimate act of love to allow someone to die in your arms but one can’t do it too often as it is too emotionally and spiritually demanding
I agree, mother, the cat told her and now I’m going outside to try and catch you some frogs from the pond next door, goodbye.

https://www.gingersoftware.com/english-online/spelling-book/confusing-words/inquiry-enquiry

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2023/mar/27/excellent-evidence-that-this-works-how-mind-experts-protect-their-brains?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

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

I dream at nights of my old friends
My husband and his loving hands
I dream of all the cats we had
Alfred who slept on the bed
He laid his head upon my foot
As I wrote a poem of love
Jimmy who was small and black
She bit my hand if I got up
I did not wish to wet the bed
She did not understand a word I said
The last night here she gazed at me
I think she knew she would not be
Lucky was the nervous one
Black and white , apartheid none
He liked my husband’s shoulder dear
He draped himself and lost all fear
Now the cats have all gone off
I am frightened by my cough
My husband comes to me at night
Fortunately he cannot bite
He touches me with tenderness
Smiles and wished me,God Bless.
When I waken I feel lost
So I have to wear a watch
I seem to have no solid self
I feel nervous of those elves
I don’t mind an angel fierce

He could rub my aching feet
I will have no other man
They are frightened of women
They don’t like to lose at Chess
They don’t like to wash my dress
They will brush my winter coat
Never ask me what I wrote
I do not wish to anger men
They might shout and bawl again
I think maybe I will turn gay
Ask a lady, what to say?
They may not understand my needs
Killing flowers to help the weeds
Talking all the weary night
On the whole they’re parasites
Also they may menstruate
I can’t give them seeds to take
So they will leave and get a man
This is where it all began
Eve and Adam,God and man
Cain and Abel, apple flan
Noah and his Ark so fine
I wish I had one in the rain
I wonder when the world will end?
I am old so be my friend

Let me paint my house with color soft.

Still as snowflakes lying in a drift

Let me paint my house in colours mute

That lovers die I cannot now refute.

As stark as ghosts are in an empty lift.

The end of life is startling it is swift.

Death came here and touched his unkissed lips

I am lonely are the lights go out.

I am frightened I won’t know the route

Now my heart is bleeding it is ripped

Lie beside me lover in the moss

Paint my face with colours still and soft

I see you in the mist and I am lost.

What we pay is more than any cost.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/learn/glossary-terms/rondeau

I saw my level path turn steep and dark
I saw a tunnel black without a light
I hesitated wondering how to stop
But seemed intent on death,on sudden flight.

No human being held out their warm hand
They left me all alone in anguished pain
Yet how should I in that state right decide
What was best for me, what made a claim?

The golden warmth like clouds from rising sun
Wrapped me all around till we were one
There was no speech ,no person and no blame
No demand, no order, love remained.

Beyond despair I found this unknown care.
A sheet of tears ran down my poor face bare.

Your face that was familiar fadee away

Where the dreams go when we are awake?

For every smile for every glance we pay

The heart aches with a numbness cold and grey

Before the day begins the day must break

The face that was familiar fades away

What would it take for atheists to pray?

The death of God is news but is it to fake=?

For every smile for every glance we pay

on the River lea ice skaters play.

As the night falls all the world looks bleak

His face that was familiar fades away

I took him to the river what to say?

We cannot die with pride we must die meek

For every smile for every glance to pay

The force of nature of god’s violence reeks

Why are you silent now, will no one speak

Sweet face that was familiar fades away

For one more smile for one more glance we pay

You cannot practise dying, though we want to do it well
We don’t want to appear foolish when we might be in hell
We can practise smiling and opening the door
Unless like me you’re crippled and you’re feeling very low
You can practise music, you can practise Art
You can practise hiding in the burrows of the heart
Then you get to go on stage and do it all for real
Dying ain’t for dummies but allow yourself to feel
You can practise for your wedding, your baptism and your fall
In the hall of mirrors where God lives off the wall
You can practise speaking, you can do it many ways
Then you must stop practising, and say the words today
In the little spaces in between the sounds
Let yourself be emptied, you are on Holy Ground

The natural state of being is the mess
The dust builds up and turns into new soil
Tidiness won’t reproduce  love’s bliss

I am fighting my own corner.you can guess
As piles of books around me will all  fall
The natural state of being is undressed

I get my  best ideas sent express
Just like electric kettles  quickly  boil
But speed itself won’t reproduce  nor kiss

Excessive  chaos  causes me distress
My eyes are on the ceiling,will they roll?
The natural state of being is Degas

The  police came when some burglars made ingress
My bedroom looked intriguing, full of coal.
A  holy fire will reproduce   and bless

In Eden  if the snake had been  controlled
The apple would be poisoned for us all
The natural state of being is the mess
Too much,too tense, won’t reproduce nor bless

I am a kettle made of stainless steel
I am a saint, for tea is brewed to heal
And, unlike kettles on an old coal fire,
I am not dirty nor do I perspire.

My mirrored sides reflect you as you cook.
Look at me and read me like a book
I’m full of love and hotter than a man
Oh, dear lady, love me while you can.

Superior mother, yet inhuman I;
Even electric kettles sometimes lie.
I shall never punish you, my dear
For perfect love like mine shall wield no fear.

All I ask is that you polish me.
For, in between your hands, I yearn to be.

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/mar/18/richard-milward-man-eating-typewriter-polari?CMP=Share_AndroidApp_Other

D

• 
• On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-other wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs hhad bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself.Now what will I wear.Stan thought over-anxiously..He had OCD now and then.
• People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense.
• The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few colored shirts and one light teal colored jacket.
• He chose a coral colored shirt and looked in the mirror..
• I look wonderful, he thought very humbly.
• Why has God kept me so youthful?
• Surely not so I can seduce more women?
• We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us.
• More haste,less speed,he conjectured.
• Or is it, More paste,guests feed?
• He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush
• He looked again at his image.
• His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter.
• His dark hair looked very full for his age.
• His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner, Weissmann#s.
• And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown.
• His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham.
• As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile
• who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo!
• 
• Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely.
• I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long,
• If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop.
• Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.At least I don’t wear make up! Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume?
• Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.More taste less greed.
• What does that mean?asked Stan.
• If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less.
• Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop.
• No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered.
• I want to go high,high.
• I want to reach the sky.
• what will I do when my love is away
• Will I be happy on my own?
• Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song
• I’ll try not to sing out of tune!
• My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you?
• I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast.
• Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready
• At the bus stop there stood Anne their neighbour.
• Hi,Stan,where are you going.
• I’m buying sewing needles for Mary.
• I can lend her some,she shrieked.
• Well,she has to use special ones nowadays.
• Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?.
• Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal.
• Who is normal?
• Let’s just assume we will recognize it when we see it,he whispered warningly.
• This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt.
• I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone?
• Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them.
• Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis,
• Anne shouted in a fury.
• No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded.
• Very true,she replied, As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it.
• This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse?
• A goat would be o.k.Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung..
• Over the page to Fly.Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick uncannily.Where she bought it was a mystery.
• At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out,
• You both look very merry!
• Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warningly.
• Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated.
• Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe?
• Why? she murmured.
• I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully.
• Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested.
• Your wish is my command he muttered,
• I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s one elsewhere.
• He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again.
• Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus.
• As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back
• But we want to go into town,every one howled.
• There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver.
• Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here.
• Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver.
• He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss.
• Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress.
• Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth?
• I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time.
• Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea.
• Hello! said Mary. Did you get my needles,Stan?
• I’m so sorry,Mary.I ‘ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town.
• And where is my supper.
• In the womb of time
• I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast. But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well.
• So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were weary and soon ,despite the tea, they were all fast asleep.
• Like  you.
•  

Buying Mary’s needles

• 
• On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-other wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs hhad bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself.Now what will I wear.Stan thought over-anxiously..He had OCD now and then.
• People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense.
• The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few colored shirts and one light teal colored jacket.
• He chose a coral colored shirt and looked in the mirror..
• I look wonderful, he thought very humbly.
• Why has God kept me so youthful?
• Surely not so I can seduce more women?
• We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us.
• More haste,less speed,he conjectured.
• Or is it, More paste,guests feed?
• He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush
• He looked again at his image.
• His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter.
• His dark hair looked very full for his age.
• His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner, Weissmann#s.
• And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown.
• His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham.
• As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile
• who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo!
• 
• Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely.
• I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long,
• If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop.
• Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.At least I don’t wear make up! Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume?
• Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.More taste less greed.
• What does that mean?asked Stan.
• If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less.
• Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop.
• No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered.
• I want to go high,high.
• I want to reach the sky.
• what will I do when my love is away
• Will I be happy on my own?
• Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song
• I’ll try not to sing out of tune!
• My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you?
• I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast.
• Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready
• At the bus stop there stood Anne their neighbour.
• Hi,Stan,where are you going.
• I’m buying sewing needles for Mary.
• I can lend her some,she shrieked.
• Well,she has to use special ones nowadays.
• Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?.
• Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal.
• Who is normal?
• Let’s just assume we will recognize it when we see it,he whispered warningly.
• This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt.
• I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone?
• Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them.
• Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis,
• Anne shouted in a fury.
• No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded.
• Very true,she replied, As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it.
• This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse?
• A goat would be o.k.Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung..
• Over the page to Fly.Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick uncannily.Where she bought it was a mystery.
• At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out,
• You both look very merry!
• Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warningly.
• Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated.
• Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe?
• Why? she murmured.
• I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully.
• Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested.
• Your wish is my command he muttered,
• I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s one elsewhere.
• He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again.
• Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus.
• As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back
• But we want to go into town,every one howled.
• There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver.
• Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here.
• Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver.
• He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss.
• Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress.
• Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth?
• I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time.
• Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea.
• Hello! said Mary. Did you get my needles,Stan?
• I’m so sorry,Mary.I ‘ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town.
• And where is my supper.
• In the womb of time
• I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast. But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well.
• So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were weary and soon ,despite the tea, they were all fast asleep.
• Like  you.
•  

Buying Mary’s needles

• 
• On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-other wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs hhad bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself.Now what will I wear.Stan thought over-anxiously..He had OCD now and then.
• People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense.
• The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few colored shirts and one light teal colored jacket.
• He chose a coral colored shirt and looked in the mirror..
• I look wonderful, he thought very humbly.
• Why has God kept me so youthful?
• Surely not so I can seduce more women?
• We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us.
• More haste,less speed,he conjectured.
• Or is it, More paste,guests feed?
• He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush
• He looked again at his image.
• His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter.
• His dark hair looked very full for his age.
• His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner, Weissmann#s.
• And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown.
• His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham.
• As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile
• who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo!
• 
• Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely.
• I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long,
• If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop.
• Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.At least I don’t wear make up! Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume?
• Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.More taste less greed.
• What does that mean?asked Stan.
• If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less.
• Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop.
• No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered.
• I want to go high,high.
• I want to reach the sky.
• what will I do when my love is away
• Will I be happy on my own?
• Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song
• I’ll try not to sing out of tune!
• My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you?
• I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast.
• Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready
• At the bus stop there stood Anne their neighbour.
• Hi,Stan,where are you going.
• I’m buying sewing needles for Mary.
• I can lend her some,she shrieked.
• Well,she has to use special ones nowadays.
• Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?.
• Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal.
• Who is normal?
• Let’s just assume we will recognize it when we see it,he whispered warningly.
• This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt.
• I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone?
• Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them.
• Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis,
• Anne shouted in a fury.
• No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded.
• Very true,she replied, As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it.
• This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse?
• A goat would be o.k.Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung..
• Over the page to Fly.Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick uncannily.Where she bought it was a mystery.
• At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out,
• You both look very merry!
• Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warningly.
• Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated.
• Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe?
• Why? she murmured.
• I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully.
• Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested.
• Your wish is my command he muttered,
• I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s one elsewhere.
• He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again.
• Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus.
• As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back
• But we want to go into town,every one howled.
• There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver.
• Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here.
• Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver.
• He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss.
• Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress.
• Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth?
• I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time.
• Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea.
• Hello! said Mary. Did you get my needles,Stan?
• I’m so sorry,Mary.I ‘ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town.
• And where is my supper.
• In the womb of time
• I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast. But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well.
• So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were weary and soon ,despite the tea, they were all fast asleep.
• Like  you.
•  

Buying Mary’s needles

• 
• On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-other wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs hhad bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself.Now what will I wear.Stan thought over-anxiously..He had OCD now and then.
• People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense.
• The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few colored shirts and one light teal colored jacket.
• He chose a coral colored shirt and looked in the mirror..
• I look wonderful, he thought very humbly.
• Why has God kept me so youthful?
• Surely not so I can seduce more women?
• We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us.
• More haste,less speed,he conjectured.
• Or is it, More paste,guests feed?
• He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush
• He looked again at his image.
• His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter.
• His dark hair looked very full for his age.
• His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner, Weissmann#s.
• And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown.
• His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham.
• As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile
• who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo!
• 
• Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely.
• I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long,
• If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop.
• Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.At least I don’t wear make up! Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume?
• Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.More taste less greed.
• What does that mean?asked Stan.
• If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less.
• Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop.
• No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered.
• I want to go high,high.
• I want to reach the sky.
• what will I do when my love is away
• Will I be happy on my own?
• Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song
• I’ll try not to sing out of tune!
• My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you?
• I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast.
• Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready
• At the bus stop there stood Anne their neighbour.
• Hi,Stan,where are you going.
• I’m buying sewing needles for Mary.
• I can lend her some,she shrieked.
• Well,she has to use special ones nowadays.
• Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?.
• Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal.
• Who is normal?
• Let’s just assume we will recognize it when we see it,he whispered warningly.
• This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt.
• I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone?
• Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them.
• Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis,
• Anne shouted in a fury.
• No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded.
• Very true,she replied, As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it.
• This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse?
• A goat would be o.k.Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung..
• Over the page to Fly.Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick uncannily.Where she bought it was a mystery.
• At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out,
• You both look very merry!
• Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warningly.
• Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated.
• Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe?
• Why? she murmured.
• I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully.
• Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested.
• Your wish is my command he muttered,
• I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s one elsewhere.
• He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again.
• Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus.
• As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back
• But we want to go into town,every one howled.
• There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver.
• Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here.
• Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver.
• He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss.
• Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress.
• Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth?
• I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time.
• Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea.
• Hello! said Mary. Did you get my needles,Stan?
• I’m so sorry,Mary.I ‘ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town.
• And where is my supper.
• In the womb of time
• I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast. But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well.
• So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were weary and soon ,despite the tea, they were all fast asleep.
• Like  you.
•  

Mary goes to the clinic and meets David Cameron

Mary was sitting down feeling quite lonely in the waiting room outside the doctor’s office when she saw Emile hiding under a chair..
What are you doing,she whispered.I’m glad of your company though.
I jumped into your cab, the cheeky cat informed her proudly
I want to be there when he examines you in case he makes vulgar remarks
Don’t worry,she answered,they always have a chaperone nowadays.
Just then a pretty young black nurse took Mary into a room and said to her
Take off your underpants!
I don’t wear underpants,said Mary,but I can go home and get my husband’s if you want me to.
We use underpants as a generic term,the nurse informed her in a kindly yet menacing voice.
Wow,they are so intelligent nowadays,I don’t think I knew what generic meant till recently Mary told herself stupidly
I have no underpants,Emile meowed. crossly
No and I am not making you any.I have quite enough washing to do already.Mary responded like a mother.
It’s not fair, said Emile.All my friends have underpants and T shirts too.
Soon the doctor came in and looked nervously at Mary and then at her female parts.
Mary was used to this but all of a sudden she got a nasty pain
Ow,ow,ow,she shrieked,what is that?
It’s ok,said the nurse,just older ladies are not used to this sort of thing.
I’ll have you know many older ladies are very used to it but not when they are unaroused.Besides men’s organs are kinder than metal or plastic if the lady is willing.Can’t you put more lubricant on the damned thing
The doctor tried to remove the speculum but was clearly somewhat agitated.
Ouch,cried Mary.Ouch.
Thank goodness I didn’t know it would hurt.Do you think we should be shown a romantic mildly arousing film in the waiting room to make it easier?
We can’t do that,said the nurse.We might be accused of running a brothel.Still ,we could use more money in here.
But the doctor is not paying me,said Mary.I am paying him, in a sense,as a taxpayer.And you too,dear.
You are too clever for me,said the nurse sharply as she admired Mary’s tan leather handbag from TKMaxx stuffed with set squares and cameras
I shall bring a vibrator next time,Mary told her,though she had never even seen a vibrator except in a picture.Still.she had to say something.And why should she not benefit from modern science?Boots sell them,she seemed to recall…
You can’t bring a vibrator in here or the doctor will be angry ,as he might be accused of misconduct if you enjoyed yourself, the nurse whispered, though why should you not enjoy it,she said in a puzzled tone ;as if she had never thought like this before.
I thought it was only misconduct if the doctor enjoyed himself,Mary cried loudly.
He has seen so many ladies, it is just like seeing into a mouth for him,said the nurse churlishly thus taking away Mary’s pride in her unique anatomy.
I expect one gets used to anything in time,Mary murmured,but I hope he will not need to do that again to me.
No, you seem ok,the doctor said,but I seem to imagine I can see a cat under the table.What is he doing?
I am just keeping an eye on you,mewed Emile.I live with Mary.
No animals are allowed in here ,the doctor shouted in a paranoid manner.
A bit late now,meowed the cat.Are you sending for the cat police?
Dr.Grey picked up a very large speculum and threatened to strike Emile with it
Now then,said the nurse, he might scratch my legs.Leave him alone.He’s just protecting her.And I had just sterilised that.
Fat lot of good Emile was,Mary thought to herself.
The doctor approached Mary and told her she would be seeing a consultant soon… in the meantime should she do anything to prepare… she asked.
Well, do try to relax if you can, he told her gently.It is trying for ladies of riper years to attend hospitals but we only want to help you.
I’ll have to help myself,Mary thought wryly, laughing inside, as she got down off the table and put on her red and purple knickers or “underpants” as they are now referred to by health professionals
.Thank God,that is over,she whispered to Emile.Let’s run out and get a cab.
She hobbled to the door and phoned the taxi firm with her mobile.I just want to get home she told the driver.
Don’t we all, he said in an Eton accent.Surely it’s not David Cameron in disguise canvassing patients?Thank God he’s not conducting pelvic exams on them!That would lose him the election whether he was any good or not… in my view,but then what do I know about the British electorate?It might be the key to our future as a nation.Think about it!No,stop!

The avenue of life was made too straight
Vienna with its harshly cut off trees
No one ever had to navigate.

We saw the gravestone in the day or night
But we did not see what life we might have seized
The avenue of life was made too straight

Life is more like sailing or birds flight
Where we move according to the breeze
We deeply wish to feel and navigate.

Life is more like dance than soldiers fight
All the soldiers surreal. a clean machine
The path to God  could never be so  right

Oh,  diurnal owl,  his wants  are slant
From  Tyne to Tees we sleep his cruel dreams
He’s known by his will to navigate.

Yet God created hawk and owl and scene
No straight line will  any bird  demean
The avenue of life is not so straight
We in danger learn to navigate.

 

The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke
The way the back leant curving into space
The dance and danger both are thus evoked

Like a play, a drama, fire and smoke
A dance performed so swiftly and with grace
The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke

The heavy bull is pounding,is provoked.
A threat, a man,  intrudes into his space
The dance and danger both are still evoked

See, the  matador throws out his cloak
A   dash of black, and here we see his face
The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke

The mind needs just a hint to  see the whole
We fill the present with our past distaste
The dance and danger, mirroring dark smoke

 Acting both dramatic and displaced 

The artist may still love what she forsakes 

The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke 

he dance and danger ,life and death evoked

 

https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/evil-deeds/201201/essential-secrets-psychotherapy-the-healing-power-clinical-wisdom-part-one

 

What we don’t know can hurt us. The “unconscious,” as Sigmund Freud professed, is the “unknown” or “not known.” That portion of subjective experience which is obscured, invisible to consciousness, at least “at the moment.” It consists largely of the parts of ourselves we deny, dissociate, despise, denigrate, dread and generally repress. What we repress comes back to haunt us with a vengeance. Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche spoke of this phenomenon as “the return of the repressed.” Denial or dissociation are repressive defense mechanisms, and serve some necessary function in terms of preserving mental health. But when some significant aspect of ourselves is chronically denied or dissociated (i.e., repressed and made unconscious), the proverbial chickens eventually come home to roost. If, for instance, someone always denies their anger, these feelings will some day resurface tenfold, especially under stress, though the reason for and intensity of their rage may be unclear  and inappropriate to the current circumstances. This dark and treacherous territory to which these repressed “chickens”–or, more descriptively, “demons” are banished–is what Jung referred to as the “shadow.” It is related also to what Rollo May called the “daimonic.” The daimonic, according to May, “is any natural function which has the power to take over the whole person. Sex and eros, anger and rage, and the craving for power are examples.” Thedaimonic, can, by definition, be both destructive and creative. When the daimonic is habitually denied, it becomes more negative and dangerous. But when we acknowledge its presence and reality, it can be the life-giving source of energy, strength, power, spirituality and creativity. This can be said of the unconscious in general. So it is vitally important to learn to listen to one’s unconscious carefully, and to what it has to say about what’s happening in the psyche now and what needs to happen if the future, both inwardly and outwardly. Meditation,mindfulness and dream work are all methods of listening to and discerning the unconscious.The secret is to take the unconscious (and its complexes) seriously, treating it with the respect and sense of mystery, awe and wonder it deserves. And to recognize the ultimate futility of repression, rather allowing one’s self to consciously experience emotions as they arise, while at the same time learning to pause between stimulus and response rather than reflexively acting on them. We have both the freedom and responsibility to choose how we respond to our feelings. But that, like any other skill, takes practice.