Iris Murdoch so that is aliens landed they would be amazed and astonished by all the flowers that grow on their

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 he had 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..
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 coloured shirts and one light teal colored jacket.
He chose a coral coloured 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, Jacob Weissmann.
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.

The gleam of sunlight on the River

Where rippling waves enjoy the breeze

Reminds me of the years of childhood

Where every joyous moment’s seized

Give up all the ego wants

Don’t focus sharply on desire

When with broader vision blessed

All the world will be on fire.

Education makes us blind

To what is real, joy’s butterflies

Kiss each joy and let it go

Hear the river water sigh

Although Stan was 102, he still rode his bike locally  in the summer time.He was out in the garden pumping up the tires before  going off to the Library.Suddenly his neighbour Annie appeared at the gate, without him hearing her feet  tapping on the path of red brick;she was bedecked in finest Scottish tweed with a long pendant on a solid 22 carat gold chain swinging nonchalantly from her neck, with a matching ring attached mysteriously to her upper lip.

“Who’re you, the Lady Mayoress” he joked.
Where’s Mary?” she pointedly whispered.
”She’s  with her widowed sister Joan up  in Scotland ” Stan admitted nervously, unsure of her reactions.
”Joan, that’s not a very Scottish name!” Annie joked.” Anyway how about we sit down here on this bench for a moment”.She pulled him vigorously towards her.

Stan responded regretfully
“I’m afraid I can’t stop.I have all these books overdue and the library shuts in 15 minutes
.”Don’t worry, sweetheart”, she cried un-contemptuously.”I’ll pay all your fines.I’ve just come into loads  and loads of money.”
“Oh, how’s that.my angel” Stan murmured. “I  shot Bert.If you help me to get rid of the evidence, I’ll share the loot with you.”

At the funeral, Annie was dressed in a beautiful dark brown suit  with a black trim from Jaeger.She went around the room making sure everyone had enough food and drink.As she leaned over towards Stan her heavy gold locket, inside which was hidden the bullet that killed Bert, swung over and hit Stan a glancing blow on the temple.
Stan fell to the ground
.”Do you think we should ring 999?” someone asked sarcastically.Within minutes, paramedics arrived.
“So, is it that chair again?” they clamoured.
”Yes, this foolish old man fell over and the leg came off my  brand new antique chair.I’ve only had it a few days and it’s not insured.”

“Did anyone ever tell you, your eyes are like deep pools in the Saragossa Sea?”  Dave, the paramedic whispered into her right ear.
“Have you still not finished that Creative Writing Course?” Annie shouted.””I’m getting tired of you admiring my eyes.What about my nose?””

“Has anyone ever told you, your nose is the shortest they’ve ever seen?”

“That’s a bit boring” Annie retorted.
”Yeah, maybe I should change to Art,” he ruefully moaned.”I love the way your deep blue and turquoise eye shadow is melting around your eyes and running down the sides of your nose.”
“Hurry up and fix my chair, and while you’re about it, you may as well take Stan down to A and E for a head X-ray.”
Glancing furtively at Annie in her Jaeger suit with carefully contrasting deep coral blouse and opaque teal blue 80 denier tights with 6 inch stiletto heels to complete the outfit, not to mention her raspberry coloured bra which clashed violently with the coral blouse [which alas was more transparent than she realised], he picked up a hammer and began,excitedly,to mend the broken chair.
”This is what life is all about, my boy” he thought.One day I will  be just where I should be.Right here.With her,alone!

Little did he know the true tale, that Annie had murdered her husband merely because she felt very  bored.
Boredom is dangerous.If you are affected why not go out and look at some hats? Why not take up drawing. is now online

Microsoft Paint

I wish we were in Standon by the ford

The river Stort, the placid cows, the sun

Oh, to be outdoors, the light to hoard

Without you you near I feel that I am shunned.

Up the hill we find the quiet church

We see the village spread out like a bed

We found this place although we did not search

I long to see your face though you are dead

Could I find you if I came at night

Shadows walk like ghosts by Prozac raised.

Could I find you in the morning light?

All I want is this, to see your face.

No one knows the mystery and the wealth

Is memory now a danger to my healtha?

L

Come live with me and be my sweetheart now
I’ll share my only bed with you and how!
If you let me love you
I’ll darn your old wool gloves 4 you
If you come and meet me brow to brow.

Come live with me ‘n teach me all you know
About poetic licence and Defoe.
I’ll mend your vacuum cleaner,
Learn expressions meaner..
How cheerfully the hours to come will go

Come live with me and be my lover true
Without one, whatever shall we do?
I’ll mend all England’s railways
Wreck the works on weekdays
Come live with me and I will sweep your flue.

Come live with me in Norway on a fjord
I’ll play my Canon PowerShot if
I ‘m bored
I’ll watch the flowers growing
And see the waters flowing
How happy Wittgenstein’d be if he’d knowed