Three cats. I used Microsoft paint to create this image
WecEnglish have to be careful in discussion with people who speak English but live in other countries like New Zealand.South Africa and of course, Canada, home of Leonard Cohen However much we learn, if we don’t live in England we probably do not understand the idioms and I expect in politics and business it could cause great problems If Boris Johnson says he is going to spill the beans tonight, will anyone from other countries like France know what he means.Because I assume they speak English at NATO events Stone the crows. here is Boris striking while the iron is hot and spilling the beans and his seeds all over the area. Oh, my sainted aunt,I can’t escape agoraphobia, Seen a shrink? There’s sink in the toilet But will it flush away? Now be serious.I mean the room What ,where the Inn keeper would not let Mary and Joseph stay? They had no bathrooms then Mine is the cat’s pyjamas Should it be “are”? Grammar is obsolete. It sounds extremely rude.I must be mixing my words You sound like an artist Well,paint while the iron is hot! But you don’t paint with an iron,do you? No, but I can scorch the paper I’d love to scorch the Mail on Sunday Don’t waste your time I didn’t know I had any. Well, keep still.Don’t move Why, is Trump passing? Passing wind maybe Is he a sheep in wolf’s clothing? He’d be a ram, he would believe in God The wolf is only artificial Is it imaginary like a complex number Not that kind of imaginary Do tell Who? The cat’s out of the bag Emile! Yes, mother? Hide! But where? Under a hat I got the hat trick once.I took it off Now keep mum and watch what I do. I want dad Me too Don’t ask for the moon So is he there? Be quiet Michael Gove wants to squeak Where is Rees’ Mogg? Mating with yours This is the absolute end Well, nearly Not angles and not angels. You are around the end
I am very angry with you. Because you are more intelligent than I am.
So I said, it’s taken you 45 years to work that out?
S
He said, I needed your salary, you see.
So I said, it’s mutual.
He said he was angry because he was dying or was it he was dying because he was angry?
Of course I didn’t know that he only had one week to live. He didn’t know either.
See nobody knows exactly when they’re going to die and that in itself could make you very angry
And then when you realise it’s too late to do anything except die.
He said, you are very beautiful and I said, I’m glad there’s something about me that you like …the thing is I’m still very intelligent but I’m no longer beautiful except to someone who loves me
The most important thing is that intelligence is not the most important thing in life. But looking at certain people in the public eye we realize a modicun of intelligence is essential
We never really know another person no matter how long we live with them with at least we can be kind to one another. For some of the time anyway.
Stan managed to drive from the Wash to Knittingham without accident.Satan was asleep in the bottom of the mirror only wakening when they stopped for a cup of tea in a Restaurant.
But how can Satan drink his tea?
Stan persuaded Satan that if he wore Stan’s hat and coat nobody would know he was not human.After all, many real humans don’t look human.So Satan went into the Little Chef for his first experience of human life.They all sat down and ordered tea and pancakes with jam and golden syrup.
Woww,said Satan.I might consider apologising to the Lord if I can eat this every day
Emile looked puzzled:
An apology is not genuine if it is done for gain, he mewed.
Gosh,where did you get such a clever cat, Satan asked Stan?
He just turned up looking wet and hungry a few years ago.Then I taught him at home how to speak properly and the basics of ethics but he seemed to know more than I could explain
Both the men stared at Emile as he lapped up the tea from a white china saucer.I wonder who he really is, they both murmured in a hushed tone.
I have taught him to swim in our bath and sometimes he comes for a ride in my bike basket.Once he fell out yet managed to lure a beautiful lady to bring him home as he is tired of my mistress Annie and fancied someone who didn’t wear crimson and magenta together nor such extraordinary makeup from Lemmings of Wigan and Warrington.
I’ve never heard of them said Satan wonderingly.I didn’t know women actually bought “makeup.”I thought when girls matured their faces went like that naturally/
That’s a bit stupid, said Stan bluntly.But never mind.Let’s carry on or Mary will worry
Satan decided he would sit with Emile and stay out of the mirror.He was beginning to look like a human being albeit a rather ugly one
And so say all of us
Satan had been, for an hour or two ,inside a solid gold powder compact which a delightful old lady called Dora had been given by her husband Alf.Alas when Dora saw Satan in her mirror she was not amused.
Luckily for Satan the mirror broke and he was able to escape into the North Sea. Since Stan and Emile were going home he decided to swim to the Wash and see if he could catch up with them.,(He is well up in geography unlike the author) Being in the sea was very different from being in the Fires of Hell.Both have their downsides.Still we all have to conpromise now and then.
But why did God let Satan get out of the mirror? Alf and Dora stuffed with hot tea and buttery muffins were paddling back to the car park in Cromer where their silver car was waiting Why is there so much water on the road,Dora asked her amiable husband. It’s not been raining, has it? Well. I saw some canoes sailing down the promenade.What has happened? Cromer is a very strange place at the extreme east end of the Norfolk coast.One moment you are facing North, the next East.This is where houses fall into the sea.Officially it is subsidence but the truth is, it’s the place where demons come onto the Earth and cause devastation with their fiery clothes and weapons. And here they come, looking for Satan, their master whom God has taken away from his hot home with no running cold water. As Dora got out of the car, she saw her shoes were full of water.Why even the car was flooded despite being in a high level car park Don’t buy anything from a stranger on the beach again, she begged Alf. We don’t know what we are unleashing.I wish we had gone on the cliffs to Weybourne rather than that old pier Well,I had no idea such a delightful old man might be in league with the Devil.Though when we see what is happening in the world it seems evil is much more sophisticated than it was when Fire and Brimstone were the punishment for murdering your wife with wilful intent.
Maybe Satan was not so evil, just too proud to apologise. The Mayor of Cromer was on the pier looking at the cracks in the concrete, Has a bomb gone off, she cried? Well, not exactly…… there’s a funny story about that Satan has been calling on us and someone tried to drown him, Who could drown Satan? He is not human.He has no lungs. My goodness, how intelligent the people of Cromer seem to be.Maybe we should get them to run the whole country! Stan and Emile were standing by the Ouse Crossing watching the swans and sea birds when suddenly Satan emerged from the swollen water How did you get here,Stan enquired tactlessly? I thought we had seen the last of you. Satan looked very upset. Help me, let me get into the mirror.My servants are looking for me but I don’t want to go with them.I am fed up with Hell and sin and evil Emile had a bright idea, Look there are mirrors on the car. Stan was not eager to let Satan hide there but the wicked creature leapt in and cried with relief after taking a nice white hanky out of his hat I never thought Satan would weep,Stan murmured unkindly. God has almost gone and the order of the Western world is collapsing.Everything is upside down. Emile ran into the car and nuzzled against Stan’s old tweed jacket. I’m frightened,dad, he muttered sheepishly. So am I said Stan as he looked into the mirror before backing out and hitting an invisible stone wall which had not been there moments ago. Now,Satan, step to one side or we will never get home to Knittingham if the mirror is not freed Satan obeyed,He has fallen in love with Stan and Emile.He wants to live in this quiet city forever.But what will Mary say if Stan tells her Satan is on her dressing table in the mirror? Will Stan be sent to see a psychiatrist? Will he be diagnosed with paranoid dementia and double pneumonia of the mind? Or will he manage to get Mary to see things his way? Will she see Satan when Stan is out? We will wait and see
When he went away He said,”Lehitraot,mama.” Do vstrechi. He died, but I’m still here Yes,in my heart I feel his love. But why did I live, And he did not? Auf wiedersehen Lehitraot. Yes,darling,I’ll see you later ,When the sky turns black and all the stars blaze bright I’ll see you shining in the night. I’ll see you in my dreams alas. Do vstrechi. But why you and not me too? Araka I can’t understand .Lehitraot,beloved. A plus tard Some where in this world,you fell But no-one,not even God, can tell. God was absent then or in some other place He’s gone again .They said He’s died too ,But He didn’t have a mother like you. Do vstrechi. My breasts ache and my heart and soul, My breasts were made to make you whole. To feed, give love and to console. A plus tard And now they ache with grief as my tears fall .A bientot My body trembles in the night As dreams may bring my lost ones to my sight. A plus I’d walk across the roughest bleak terrain If l I could find my loves and hold your hands again. Do vstrechi .The bell rings on the ancient clock As time goes on as normal, never stops. Araka I wish the hands of time could be reversed, And I was not living with this curse. People forget that I once had a son. They think my grieving has been done. Araka.But grief and loss and pain will never end Until the curtain of my death descends Auf wiedersehen. Meantime I look at flowers and birds and trees ,But it’s really you my deepening insight sees. Lehitraot. The inscape of my heart is shown to few. An artist of the lost would know this view. I know I want to see just you. Do vstrechi. But for me there is no Auf wiedersehen Never again will you say What you said that day Lehitraot,Mama.Papa A plus tard Tot ziens. See you later See you ,darling See you soon
How softly sweetly,gently flowers pose Carnation,orchid ,daffodil and rose. For their intricate petals form a shield Yet bees with striped force shall make them yield. Appearances,both natural and contrived, Mixed with the wiles of human nature thrive. As knowing not, we pluck the apple rare And bite its flesh,with teeth we have to bare. We too deceive the innocent who pass Not seeing watchers hid behind the glass. The windows break,the deep earth quakes; Seized is the maiden ,he her virtue takes. Beneath the surface,force and fierceness thrive. What fearsome, burning God enjoys our lives
Actors are the poets of the real.
They mould the air with bodily appeal
The body is the soul through which we feel
Imprisoned bodies kill the soul ideal.
Dancers fuse with music stretching air.
They push and pull the freedoms that live there
They play with Newton’s laws as they change gear
The bodies bend and flow with utter zeal.
Singers touch us deeply to the core.
As we listen with our shrunken hearts so sore
We will cry out, oh, more,oh, more , yes, more.
As deep into our inner self ,they gore.
In every aspect of our human lives
Rhythm, meter, movement are our guides
My dear sister was sometimes critical of me because I have a lot of books. When I was ill someone decided to tidy it up and took my books out of the bookshelves: put them into boxes in a different room and told me,Your sitting room looks a lot better now that it’s in order. Then I was very distressed even angry. I couldn’t find anything.
That’s the conventional view that a room which is half empty with polished furniture and neat sofas and chairs is the perfect home however order to me is not about constant tidying up to the extent that you are not allowed to eat drink or almost breathe in someone’s living room because they’ve just cleaned it.
And of course I knew where all my books were and I knew where all my art books were
And I knew where the cookery boots were as well but it’s taken me a long time to find the books I need again.
I’m not finished the job yet.
So the deeper sort of order is where the owner of the room or the house has an internal map of where everything is which may not be apparent to a stranger or even to a sister.
Interestingly, there is an article today in some of the newspapers saying that experts have found that the desire for total orderliness and minimalism is driving some people crazy when they’re already busy with looking after their family working in a demanding job or a boring job or tiring job.
Because being judged is very painful and if you feel that everybody who comes to visit you is going to judge you on the number of possessions you have and the state of your house then you won’t be able to relax and enjoy their company
I expect one should follow the rule of
Do not take it personally
Yes we need a certain amount of order of the traditional kind. We need to wash our clothes we need to cook and wash up we need to make beds even to change the sheets but where’d you draw the line,?
I must confess that I was shocked when I was a student living in a bed sitter when one of my friends said she only changed sheets once a month.
At that point I was still doing what my mother did which was changing one sheet following the rule of top to bottom. As I got older and more tired and realized that if you are a clean person you might not need to change your sheets every week then that’s what I did… change them once a fortnight. And it’s nice to have clean sheets. So it’s a pleasure which might be worthwhile doing more frequently as long as it doesn’t make you ill and tired
In any case all the cleaning and tidying and washing used to be regarded as women’s work and of no value.
But in fact this work is of value despite my criticism of people who are over orderly and over clean.
As I said to my sister,
A rich person like the author Michael Frayne can afford a big house with lots of bookshelves and so tidiness to some extent is linked with money
For older people and those with asthma and other chronic conditions it may be very important to have a dust free and very clean home.
But it should not be regarded as a moral necessity.
I don’t know why some people feel impelled to judge others constantly.
Someone in my family criticizes another person if they get new furniture but really it wasn’t their business
It wasn’t causing any trouble financially so if this person wanted to have new furniture every five years or 10 years rather than waiing till it fell apart then to me that seemed a reasonable choice because life is not very long and if you don’t like your furniture to get worn out and dirty and you want to get a new sofa or whatever that is your choice and you are entitled to it if you can afford it. And that’s one of the problems about poverty that peopke are not only short of food and heating bills are frightening but also they they have no choice about whether they want a new bed or a fridge or freezer because they can’t afford it anyway even if it’s necessary.
There’s a lot of pain in being poor and it is not acknowledged by many of us. And it’s not surprising that mental illness is more common in the poor.
And if you were a powerful person people will not criticize you for being untidy because they’ll be frightened or you.
Still I would not wish to live the way that I the philosopher and novelist Iris Murdoch lived because you have to recognize that if your floor is covered in rubbish you are at risk of getting rodents etc
So I’m not advocating for complete ignoring of dirt and mess but saying that having a few piles of books in your living room it’s not really something to be ashamed of.
If I went into a room like that I would long to look at the books and be interested in the person.
I suppose we women don’t always realise what stress we are suffering instead we feel guilty because our home is not perfect like the ones on the television programmes we’ve been having recently.
Since my home was tidied I found it much harder to write because my hands reach out for a book in a shelf but it’s not there. I spend time trying to find it and its fellow books which used to be so near me all the time.
If you want to help another person don’t assume that they want their house to be tidy in the way your house is tidy. That they want all their kitchen utensils in a jug on the windowsill because what looks disorderly to one person is actually the order of somebody else. That’s somebody else is different from you. That they are entitled to their own way of life
And also you may need to tell them that you cannot just borrow books from the public library because they do not have books that are only readable by a small group of people about things like philosophy history poetry music art. It’s become even more true in recent years when governments have cut back on money and the local council is running out of money and so they closed the libraries or they buy fewer books.
And if you want the book as a reference book as you might do if you are a writer or an academic or an artist then borrowing it from the public library is not really sufficient. That’s why people steal sometimes. And that’s selfish but on the other hand is understandable if you can’t afford to buy something that you really need badly.
My old blue fountain pen allows The ink across the page to flow Like wet paint from an artist’s brush; And words come in a rush.
Enchanted by the hand that writes, Bewitched by art, beauty alights. The script is like a music score Through which you pass as through a door. Imagination’s home.
As,mysteriously,to you,to me, The spirits of our hearts are tamed, By rhythms of pen,of brush,of mind, They enter vision quite unplanned, Like moths to flutter softly round Fire joined heart and hand.
The pen slows down,the hand goes still And just as dreams at daybreak will, They shrink,they disappear,they’re gone, I almost caught that one.
The noises we can make with mouth and throat
Make patterns like the music of the birds
The graphic line, the new emotion caught
Expressed by sentence and by the true words
No teacher or professor made our tongue
A gradual evolution done with art
Before the prose there was the evensong
As home the little sparrows want to dart
Yet with this language we can commit fraud
Lies are hidden even in our bones
Then we have the enigmatic code
What translates and what is lost,alone
The fractured chaos of the world takes form
The alphabet convicts us by its charm
nvestors who hoped Trump policies would be pro-business are “learning a very expensive lesson about the difference between creative destruction and just plain destruction”.
After Stan left the police behind, he drove Satan to Sheringham,There they rented a fidhrman’s cottage and enjoyed walking to Weybourne along the cliffs where they saw some butterflies .Satan seemed surprised by the cheery residents.He usually dwelt in cities and dens of iniquity.Stan’s pocket bulged with the golden powder compact standing up.He liked Sheringham but usually had Mary with him for company rather than Satan.
One afternoon on the beach a man of riper years stopped and spoke to him
I see you always carry face powder in a compact with you.Are you a transvestite by ny chance?
I am sorry to say,I am not.Is that bad news?Stan asked him
Well,not really.I never expected to meet one down here.But my wife has lost her powder compact and it’s hard to get gold ones now.I’ll give you at least £500 for that.It’s lovely.
Stan pondered.He had got fond of Satan but was unsure what to do with him next and he could not remain on holiday for ever as Emile his cat didn”t like it
He thought perhaps leaving Satan here in Sheringham might benefit humanity in the long run.
OK then.he cried and in a flash he had handed over the gold compact to the gentleman who seemed thrilled.He produced £500 pounds in notes and the deal was done.
Stan went back and informed Emile the holiday was over.We can go home now,Emile.I have got rid of Satan,at least for now.
Thank God,miaowed Emile.I miss Annie and her perfume..
That makes two of us,thought Stan as he drove towards King’s Lynn and the Ouse crossing…
But how will poor Satan feel? Will he be converted to life in a seaside home or will he soon be heading back to Knittingham?Time will tell. Sheringham may be too small for him and probably has very few dens of iniquity.And even Cromer is probably not wicked enough for this old devil….
We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls
Yet men have died in places that appal
Women too and children then unborn
Fell into cold dark earth in lands forlorn
As our weapons grow, our hearts are hard
The people live in Gaza behind bars
The water all polluted as taps drip
Is this war or is it vengeance fit?
In Britain, it’s the poor who lose the war
As it was when Jesus Mary bore
Yet here are clerics blessing marching bands
A military show for all the land
The genocide in Europe of the Jews
The self destructive actions of the proud
The fields of France filled sick with blood and bone
Who are we to cast judgmental stones?
The War’s not over when the fighting stops
The soldiers and the tortured suffer shock
The widows and the parents all bereaved.
The unborn children hover in unease
We let the prisoners out from camps of death
But who would take them in or take their path?
The injuries will travel down the years
As still we fight and still we live in fear
It’s Europe’s grasp and greed which was the cause
Of death in Gaza, Syria, in long wars
Yet we judge we are more civilised
When we self defend with bitter lies
Stan was very worried that the police had caught him.He didn’t realize that with the low sun the mirror in his pocket was flashing out coded messages to aircraft.He got out of the car and walked over to the police on the grassy verge of the road
I’m so sorry,it’s just my wife’s solif gold powder compact.See?
Have you got your marriage certificate with you?
Well,no.I didn’t know we in the UK needed to show them to the police. demurred Stan
It may belong to your wife but you are a man.Men don’t carry them.We never saw one before.
Certain men might of course..actors or politicians.I know Tony Blair wore make up.
That’s irrelevant.Give me that compact.
Stan pulled the golden compact out of his pocket,still open.
The police man stared into the mirror.His face turned pale.He handed the compact to Stan and ran back to his car asking the driver to take him to the nearest boiling Tea Shop.
Stan looked at Satan and grinned…
What did you do?
I just held up a photo I have of him in bed with a sheep….need I say more?
Did you enjoy seeing that?Stan asked naughtily
Not much.~I prefer your flame haired mistress with her perfume of Araby.
So you can smell then?
Oh,yes,said the devil.Sure I can.
So Stan started the car and off they went;all the lights were green and not a single police car was on duty.
Soon they reached Upper Sheringham.The people here are very long lived.
I know it’s the best place to live….
then they turned down the old High Street and parked by a gambolling shop.
Now what?
Will the sea cheer up a sad old devil?We must await the piece of the story with interest and patience.
Email me with ideas at merrymaryminds@hot.com
Stan met Satan in his mirror many times.And it was obvious the poor devil was terribly depressed.He said he was no longer needed as humans were more wicked than he ever was.
Stan wondered how to help without doing anything wicked himself He went into the bedroom and looked into the mirror.
At first he thought it was empty but the he saw Satan asleep in a ball. Hi there,he called.Satan woke up. Hi Satan. Stan said I’ve got an idea
How would you like a drive to Sheringham? I dunno,I feel too depressed. I think you need a change said Stan.
He picked up Mary’s solid gold powder compact and opened it.What a lovely scent,he murmured,closing his eyes and remembering all the times Mary had taken it out to put on more lipstick or powder her nose when they were out dancing. Now,see here.I have mirror .If you can get behind this,I’ll put you in my pocket and Emile will sit by me in the car. Without a pause Satan leaped into the gold compact and Stan could see him in the mirror.He popped it into his front pocket until he realised the devil could not see out. He opened it and placed it in his pocket but with the mirror sticking out. They drove off in Stan’s old Triumph Herald which was still functioning well. Sat Nav,said Satan… is that how to find me… No.it’s satellite navigation.It gives me a route to the seaside.Wherever I want to go Bloody waste of money…what is wrong with a road Atlas? It’s all progress.Stan told him.We must keep up or we will be thought lacking By whom? answered the old devil All of a sudden a police car came by and asked Stan to stop. Why are you sending signals with that mirror?the police officer enquired.. To be continued
Stan met Satan in his mirror many times.And it was obvious the poor devil was terribly depressed.He said he was no longer needed as humans were more wicked than he ever was.Stan wondered how to help without doing anything wicked himself
He went into the bedroom and looked into the mirror.At first he thought it was empty but the he saw Satan asleep in a ball.
Hi there,he called.Satan woke up.
Hi Stan.
Stan said
I’ve got an idea.How would you like a drive to Sheringham?
I dunno,I feel too depressed.
I think you need a change said Stan.He picked up Mary’s solid gold powder compact and opened it.What a lovely scent,he murmured,closing his eyes and remembering all the times Mary had taken it out to put on more lipstick or powder her nose when they were out dancing.
Now,see here.I have mirror here.If you can get behind this,I’ll put you in my pocket and Emile will sit by me in the car.
Without a pause Satan leaped into the gold compact and Stan could see him in the mirror.He popped it into his front pocket until he realised the devil could not see out.
He opened it and placed it in his pocket but with the mirror sticking out.
They drove off in Stan’s old Triumph Herald which was still functioning well.
Sat Nav,said Satan… is that how to find me…
No.it’s satellite navigation.It gives me a route to the seaside.Wherever I want to go
Bloody waste of money…what is wrong with a road Atla.?
It’s all progress.Stan told him.We must keep up or we will be thought lacking
By whom? answered the old devil
All of a sudden a police car came by and asked Stan to stop.
Why are you sending signals with that mirror?the police officer enquired..
To be continued
Stan was standing on the patio behind his bijou home when a sudden heavy downpour of water drenched him all over. This is like a monsoon,he murmured to Emile who was also wet and drowned looking A head and neck appeared over the dark wooden fence. I’m awfully sorry,old boy.A pipe has burst in Annie’s loft.I tried to fix it myself. I don’t believe it.You are Stan Brown.It must be 50 years since I saw you. Stan was hiding his surprise at seeing Rudolf Hairnet,his former logic tutor at an ancient foundation, in the garden of Annie,Stan’s beloved colourful mistress. Why not pop in Rudolf,he said.I’ll leave the door open and go upstairs to change my clothes.Be with you in a moment. Stan went upstairs and removed his clothes.His body was now as thin as when he reached his full height of 6 ft 6 inches but alas it had less muscle and more fat. nowadays.He gazed into his wife’s full length mirror. To his surprise, he saw Satan looking out.Although he knew this was possible for Catholics he had never met Satan before.Not that he was keen to,exciting as it might be. How do you get behind the mirror,he asked Satan gently. God only knows,said Satan morosely. Why not ask him? I’m too proud,the poor devil replied in a bleak voice. Well,we all have our pride,Stan told him,though no doubt yours is the biggest in the universe. Yes,indeed,Satan answered.It’s bigger than Everest Are you here for any purpose,Stan enquired. Yes,your home seems more intriguing than most and I like to watch you in bed with that flame haired woman… is she your paramour? I see,said Stan,You are a voyeur par excellence That’s one way of describing me,Satan said,No woman will come to bed with me so I am trapped here behind every mirror in the world.I can see it all but never take part. You must be very lonely,said Stan Yes,the dark spirit muttered painfully Are there no she-devils about who might oblige you?Stan asked him thoughtfully. I don’t seem to fancy them so much.They are all as bad a me,I want kindness and tenderness not just lust.After all,one might satisfy that with a vibrator… we have them in hell you know!We have many things but love and humility are not there. Why,you are beginning to sound almost human,Stan told him.We want love too.If only you would apologise to God I am sure he would forgive you and let you come into the real world of others instead of being trapped in there Stan heard a noise.He turned round displaying his bony frame and his drooping organs to Rudolf. Are you ok? I was worried that the drenching had knocked you off balance.I have out your kettle on the fire to make you a hot drink and phoned 999 for aid. But we don’t have a fire,Stan responded. loudly Well,you do now said Rudolph Oh,hell, cried Stan
Stan met Satan in his mirror many times.And it was obvious the poor devil was terribly depressed.He said he was no longer needed as humans were more wicked than he ever was.Stan wondered how to help without doing anything wicked himself
How my heart speaks 