Mary tried to write with a grapefruit spoon:The problems of women and pens.

5230552_f260Mary had a busy morning ironing Emily’s nightdresses whilst the cat lay under the table watching her.Eventually she rang BT to enquire whether a 66 per cent increase in the bill was  normal when inflation was onlty 3 per cent.Despiter her knowledge of quantum theory and dysfynctional analysis she was unable to understand the explanation.Though she did get a slight reduction.

As she sat down at the table to fill in the Accounts Book she realised that instead of a pen she had a grapefruit spoon in her right hand.

This is just the end,she told herself.I need to relax.I am all knotted up like a ball of  string.How can I change my life? Alas  no ideas came into her mind as she sat staring out of the French windows at the grey and lilac  November sky.

As Stan came back from his walk full of fresh air, he saw Mary sitting sobbing by the television.

What’s the matter,dearest? he asked her gently.

It’s all these bills plus the fact that I buy hundreds of pens every year yet can never find one,she said dolefully.

Yes,it’s a bit like the disappearing teaspoons, he said in a reflective tone.I suppose we must accidentally toss them into the kitchen bin when clearing up.I am not surprised so many old folk get paranoia as we like to think somebody else is responsible for  the mess we live in.

And,Mary said,I bought a tablet since it’s Black Friday.But after spending ages trying to connect the camera I found it doesn’t have one.

That’s the downside of trying to buy things more cheaply,Stan said wisely.

I suppose it’s a bit like a religion.Everyone is rushing about buying stuff so we feel we should join in,Mary  blurted out in a manner unlike her usual detached and affectless manner developed as a technique in her job as a maths lecturer.

I think I’d rather meditate in the church than go shopping for bargains,Stan answered.Do you feel we ought to resume our old religion.he asked her pointedly.

Well,you’ll have to give up sinning with Annie, she told him with a  smile.I know i am a bit lacking in that department but it’s not personal to you.I have never felt much interest in sex except with a film star.Perhaps I should have been a nun.Still I do like sharing my life with you and the cats and even Annie…. and we have our daughters too though where are they now?

Are we keeping this little female cat,Stan asked jovially.

Oh,yes.I have already bought her some nightdresses so  she can sleep by your arm at night

.I just hope Emile will not be jealous,Mary said anxiously.

Well.I want a female in bed,even if it’s a cat,Stan told her.I just want a bit of affection.And she seems not to be a scratcher.Emily purred loudly as she had been starving since her owner Jean had moved into a retirement complex where animals were forbidden although they do allow fleas and bed bugs we are  told.But who wants to sleep with a bug ? They are unkind and nasty little creatures though God must have had a plan for them.He alone knows what it was.

Annie was standing outside wearing a red corduroy outfit and a purple woollen hat. and matching suede leather boots.She tapped on the window and Mary went to open the back door.

Would you like some tea,Annie,she asked  her politely.

I’d love some.,was the answer.I have made some shortcake with real butter in it and  she pulled a large bag of biscuits from her large leopard skin handbag..

Did you make them,Mary enquired courteously.

Yes,I decided to begin to buy fewer things in the shops and I use less sugar.Did you know your brain and heart need some fat?

No,said Mary.But I know the brain contains a lot of fat… so we must need it and butter is delicious as well.Maybe I shall make something but I have a lot of ironing  with the new cat.

Surely you don’t iron the cat,Annie shouted. in horror

No, it’s just she likes pretty dresses,Mary called.Come here Emily, she carried on.Emily came out from under the table wearing a white denim skirt and a pink blouse…. and a red hat.

How can she climb trees, asked Annie.

Well,all these clothes are machine washable.And she has no shoes on so  she can use her claws.Anyway she doesn’t go out much as she hates the cold.I suppose I could get her a goodesdown parka…

I think some jeans would be better, or jeggings.. with a tunic  top.How about a headscarf too now it’s winter,Annie murmured softly

What a problem it is for cat owners.Should they put their pets on a fixed allowance or let them spend whatever they like with their own credit card?The two  women were  soon deep in thought while Stan went and made some nice hot tea.We all need a man now and then… even if we don’t have one of our own… maybe we can borrow one like we do with library books.Now that seems a good idea.

Stan would be shocked at the thought he might be avaiable on loan from the library but it would make him feel wanted and useful and give him an insight into the women of Knittingham and their unique ways.And that might help his marriage or at least give them something to talk about.

The end of the tale

We learned rigor and icy vision

What was so wrong about asking
About your absence from this world
And trying to grab you back
holding onto your coat tail
Eternity’s long enough already
We don’t need your vapour trails.
Was it a wicked thing to do
As you floated so far away
To reach out to touch you once more
I admit I never knew you kept score.
When I beat you at chess so long ago
Were you already packing bags
to throw out the door?
I knew it was the real thing
But some men never do.
You have your expectations
And your tests and rules
But we never learned those
In our higher math schools.
We learned rigour and icy vision
We learned definition and precision.
But what use are they in loving
I didn’t know how to steer with no maps
You were off anyhow.
The orchestra stoped playing
When they saw the gap.
You can’t fly forever
But I do be leaving you.
In the circumstances
What else does a woman like me do.
You can smile and squeeze your eyes tight
Suck in those cheeks and hide your love.
What’s coming after you’s an eagle or a crow
Not a dove…it’s black I know
When you toss it all away then
Seems like it’s long past time
and emotion to call it a day.
Come again…..you must be crazy
Love is clear to me now like the face of a new born daisy

Oh,God be my perspective point, my art

Oh God be my perspective point,my art

Let me use you as a goal or guide.

Teach me how to learn the human heart.

Take me  where all living waters start

Show me how to use the maps beside

Oh God be my perspective point, my art

Let the ghosts of demons wry depart.

Upon the waves of Fury let me ride

Teach me how to touch the human heart.

The sailors watch horizons and their charts

Faith in the unknown is our ally

Oh God be my perspective point, my art

Where is the human being who can’t die?

All the fishes in the oceans sigh

Oh God,you who have vanished, be my art

In my mourning I will find your heart