I hope you are keeping well.I have a favour to ask.My girlfriend Annie and I want to go away for a few days to Liverpool to see the Cathedrals etc.I wonder if you could come here to look after Emile.He would hate being in a Cattery and yet he needs company
My new book “Riemann’s Mouse” is coming out in December.It is a book of poetry I wrote in the staffroom in between my lectures on Diffusion and Differential Geometry.I do it just for my own enjoyment but if you would like to read it you can buy if from Amazon for £56.99.I wrote one called Riemann’s Cat so this is a more up to date way of learning Physics withour knowing it.
I am just baking a Xmas Cake as Annie is doing the dinner.We are having roast beef and Yorkshire Puddings and Emile is really hungry for it now.Staa never cooked a turkey and I don’t like it
I have some weird new neighbours but I will not write it down.I think a touch of paranoia is in the air.Fears of houses burning down.Mind you, with the world like it is I sam not surprised.It’s easier to fear that than the end of the world.
I wonder how God sees it all.If we could meet we’d die of fright
I would leave the freezer full of food if you were able to come.But don’t feel obliged.I’ve only lent you £50,000 so far and never asked for a payment…..if you have any decency do this for me and for Stan’s memory.You can use the washing machine too… you always look rather dirty unless it’s my spectacles… a metaphor!
Thanks for sending me your new novel. I am unsure whether the main character is meant to be me.I have worn Viyella nightgowns in the past but not when holding a dinner party.If I wanted to attract a man I would wear a dress from Artigiano and only speak about art and music not differential equations and quantum, theory .
As you never passed a maths exam after the age of 12 I doubt if you know what a differential equation is.It has no connections with bicycle gears.I think it was very bold of you to put that in.But I cannot deny it is fancified garbage which will be suited to only people who failed maths O level.
It’s mental effect effect has been akin to eating a bag of Worcester permain apples which are about to go mouldy in a park where there is no public lavatory
Please. refrain from sending me your next novel if you have the stupidity to attempt another.I would think a cookery book would be more suited to your writing style.. ……making lists and giving orders to all and sundry, to use a cliche….. that’s the other thing.Never have so many cliches been used by one author to such effect since Mrs Thatcher’s co writer wrote her St Francis special or Winston Churchill rallied Britain after Dunkirk and saved the world
I prefer lemon mousse to sour apples or grapes
All fondest love as ever
Adrienne Priorjki
.MA Ph D [Romania] MA D.Phil {Oxford] B SC [Birmingham] MD {UCH}
Nuts Cottage
87 Rubbish Walks
Stampedia
North Norfolk
NWe 0MG pi
Dear Mary
How are you getting on with your new book? Mine is going well as having grown up doing my homework while my brother played ” The Ride of the Valkyries” full blast, demanded I do his maths homework and Latin I find with the TV on some rubbish programme I can really concentrate well
.On the other hand I might be writing rubbish.
The main things seems to be to avoid writer’s block. whereas in the past it was to avoid writing rubbish,Funny how popular the word rubbish is nowadays.
When we believed in God we had Cathedrals,plainsong and Byrd.Now we have Malls.Coffee Shops and Muzak.And rubbish.We are rubbish too
Surely to get writer’s block would be an advantage as it would lead to reverie and dreams or maybe going on Tinder and seeing how many people in the town are looking for….Rubbish connections.
My optician said not to go looking for men.With my eyesight I’d no doubt be chatting up a traffic cone.I never did know how to flirt or chat up anyone. don’t think that’s what he meant.Real men don’t like women running after them which is lucky.I can’t run nowadays,. I could limp after one!
He said his mother did get married again but she wasn’t seeking it actively.So she said.Would she have told her son?
Definitely not.Well, that’s my view.Take it or leave it.Agree or argue.Talk or walk.Who can falsify his theory? Popper died.So they say.
I think I must be drunk with happiness.I’ll write again to tell you the plot of my novel.Basically,i t’s total rubbish dressed up with a few sexual innuendos.These days innuendo seems quite out of date.Old fashioned.Like courting and engagement.Now we start in bed and end up in Court.
Well, try phoning me or you’ll keep getting more rubbish letters
Mary was sitting looking at the execution of Mary Queen of Scots on TV while also mending some moth holes in her skirt.The only thread she got into the eye of the easy thread needle was blue but nobody was going to examine her with a microscope, she told herself gently
She also was thinking of her winter coat.Was raspberry really a good choice? Would dark grey not be more useful?After all she often sat down on garden walls while taking photos or even on old wooden benches.What she needed was a folding cushion or a small thick towel.No wonder women have such big handbags.
Annie her neighbour came in the back door with a bag of broken biscuits.
Look at these!We used to get them in the market years ago.So for old times sake I have hit these with a hammer!
What sort of hammer,Mary asked.
Why, are there different kinds?
Yes,but I expect yours is just the usual medium size.
Actually it was Ben’s.When he ran away he left it behind.
I suppose it was too heavy to fit into his suitcase.Where do he run to?
I don’t know,said Annie but as his sister in law went with him they might have gone to Australia.
Do men in Australia often love their sisters in law? Mary pondered
Who knows? The point is nobody would recognise them.Although if I went on Saga holiday I might!More people travel now.My friend Jim went to Borneo last yearm said Annie in a tone of wonder
So if we became lesbian lovers we could not hide in Borneo!Where could one hide now with all this travel?
Disguise might be best,Annie whispered.You could dress as a man!
You must be joking ,at my size.
Well, there are plenty of fat men!
But would they have a shape like mine?
So the two friends while away Saturday afternoon, both now darning Mary’s other clothes.
Why don’t you just buy new clothes,Annie murmured kindly.
I can’t afford this quality.I shall have to keep combing Emile until I get enough fur to make into a thread.Then I can knit a scarf!
How ridiculous,You’d need a herd of cats to get enough,Annie informed her with pity.
What a lovely idea,Mary cried,But Emile might be jealous.Or he might enjoy meeting a lady cat… or two.
I don’t think you could have more than six cats here and with food and bills it would be cheaper to buy wool
Still,a ball of wool is not so good to sleep by as a cat,Mary pondered slowly.And it has no loving eyes to look at when one comes in from the shops.
I suppose just holding wool in the hand might be very soothing,Annie retorted logically.
Otherwise we could join Soulmates she continued fluently.
Would men be attracted to a lady with darned moth holes in her clothing? Mary enquired humorously
Well, it would show you were economical and thrifty,Annie cried sensitively
Surely that is not the main reason men choose a woman partner, said Mary wonderingly.
I suppose they like a woman with a gentle sensitive nature.Annie screamed
Well.Denis Thatcher didn’t,Mary informed her delightedly
So true, but was she different once?
No, he wanted to be dominated.Mary decided.
I wonder if he liked being whipped,Annie thought having read 5o shades of whey
She could have used the Government Whips, Mary chortled.
Both the women burst out laughing so much that the sofa fell over and flung them onto the thick red and purple striped acrylic carpet
That sofa us unstable,Annie shouted.We could have died
Perhaps it’s us.Mary shrieked
Emile ran out into the kitchen and bit a piece out of the Xmas cake.
I can’t help it, he mewed.They are both getting madder by the day
And so say all of us
Emlle’s a jolly good yeller
So pray for all of us.
“If I were to try and put the two together, I would suggest that — especially in formal meditation — we want to non-judgmentally allow our experience to be exactly as it is. We don’t want to condemn, deny or avoid any element of it. But once we’ve allowed our minds to gather and receive all the available data, there is a critical transition whereby we act upon that gathered intelligence with judgment – the sort of judgment that is increasingly wise.”
I have seen so now I cannot doubt
But what I saw, I do not know its name
The laws of common sense it likely flouts
Yet it brings ripe comfort to the lone
A felt experience without any words
A brighter, stronger comforter declared
As swift as sunshine on a flying bird
There was a living being who their love shared.
Shared is not the best word I might use
For this was someone stronger than a gale
Stronger than the sun, could nothing lose
Would always be surprising, could not fail
How hard to here communicate my seeing
For we have different eyes and different beings
An ancient skill, the making of a rope
Twisting threads into a strong,tough form
Used for tying up a fishing boat
Or ancient ships where slaves rowed till deformed
Ropes of pearls would decorate a queen
Yet ropes were used to hang condemned men
Who knows what this rope above has seen?
Was it used by sailors now and then?
Primeval like the gift of flame and fire
Animals tied up so they won’t run
In the form of wool it has empires
Keeping warm in winter ,kingdom come
A skein, a rope , a thread, a ball of wool
From this sight, imagination’s full
Stan was feeling somewhat glum,nay even despairing,on Monday morning.
Mary had gone to work on her new folding 6 gear bicycle with own basket and an extra basket from Wells-next -the- Sea 1995
[the wicker basket now somewhat grey in hue.]
He was left at home sorting out all his art work and materials as well as doing the baking,cooking and bathing Emile,the delightful yet trying male cat.
Sunk in dark misery,Stan sat in an old uncomfortable chair in the darkest part of the room, while Emile snored on the rug by the bright French windows
.Stan went through all the possible reasons for his state of mind.Was he guiltyabout his flings with his alluring next door neighbour Annie?
Could it be his failure to toilet train Emile? Or his omitting to carry out the penance given by Father Brown after Stan confessed to stealing sweets on the way to Confession in 1956?
The longer Stan brooded the more reasons he found for his depression.
He could hardly get up to make a cup of coffee ..even instant seemed too much trouble.Would he even clean his teeth which somehow he’d failed to do?
The doorbell rang… it was a new cord for his laptop as Emile had been chewing the current one ,and 29 books in a sack from Amazon which his wife must have ordered,as he had no recollection of any such foolish spending.
How would they pay the bill on the credit card? he ruminated.
Later in the day.Annie peered through the window.She tapped on the glass with her well manicured blue finger nails.
Let me in she cried.
I’m too tired for any hanky panky he murmured lovingly as he ran his fingers through her thick red tresses.What is this delightful perfume,beloved,he questioned her.
It’s Poison! she replied.Oh no,sorry it’s Iris and Jasmine Eau de toilette from the Bodyshop.
Despite his lowly sunken state Stan loved this perfume.He sniffed rabidly at her well rounded form
.Well,shall we have some tea,she enquired.
Stan sat there hand on chest.I’ve been feeling a little gloomy,he muttered.She peered at him.
You look terribly pale,Stan.Where’s your angina spray?
I can’t recall,he said.Oh,here it is in my vest.
What a strange place to keep it,she responded.
Mary made pockets for all my vests.at one time you could buy vests with pockets
She’s good at sewing despite being so clever.In fact she loves doing things with her hands.
Annie got the GNT spray out and handed it to him.
Have you got a pain?
Well,yes,now you mention it,I do,he replied verbosely.
Well,in the name of God, use the bloody thing,she whispered endearingly into his left ear.
He opened his mouth,raised his tongue and with his hand resting lightly on his chin he pressed the button with his forefinger.
His head began to throb.
Annie appeared with a cup of Earl Grey tea and a biscuit.
Why,you look a little better.Do you need another dose?
No,I feel much better now.I’ve had it before.
He drank the tea but didn’t eat the biscuit which he threw out later in crumbs for the field mice in the shed.
His spirits began to rise.Why did he always forget that physical ailments can worsen a mood?He still felt a trifle glum but nothing a meringue wouldn’t put right.
OK,what shall I make for Mary’s supper? he enquired.
You sit there in the window and I’ll just make my special spaghetti,Annie replied gaily,as long as I can stay too.
Yes,I’ll open some red wine he said youthfully,and we can have fried apples and bananas for pudding with non fat Greek yoghurt.
What a wise choice she murmured gently into his ear………that will use up some of the newly picked apples,the bananas were from Lidl’s as usual.
Well,Stan you look better.said Mary happily,You’ve been pale all weekend.Was it Annie who cheered you up,not to put too fine a point on it?
Actually it was nitroglycerine,he said roguishly,but Annie made me use it.
But for us women you’d be dead,she replied equably.
But for you delightful creatures I wouldn’t be here at all,he moaned ecstatically.
Now then Stan,control yourself she urged,After all we have a visitor,Annie!
What a hoot,he thought as he twisted spaghetti round his fork in a careless manner splashing tomato sauce all over his new green acrylicjumper.
Thank the Lord for washing machines,Mary said.
I didn’t know Jesus invented them,Annie said with a tone of mild sarcasm but no-one bothered to reply.
As told by Emile to the local paper.
And believed by all of us
My eyes saw a dark tunnel drawing me
This might be my path as I felt dread
Near a slope as grave as ends can be
Hesitating. wondering what to do
When with such grief and pain my own heart cried
My eyes still saw the darkness drag at me
Shall I go or stay, what will it be?
Not the love entire my heart once craved
Rushing to unravel mystery
Then a fire, a cloud of gold I knew
My frantic rush had kept Love far away
My eyes desired the darkness beckoning me
Silent,warm , the Good caressed me
I recognised but had no words to say.
The warmth. the golden love from language free
A sheet of tears fell from my open eye
I felt the Love which saved me on that day
Rejecting the deep darkness and its plea
In despair we’re frozen , cannot play
In despair Love comes without our prayer
My eyes saw a dark tunnel beckon me
Down a slope as grave as earth might be.
Trying to see things from another person’s perspective means
1.We acknowledge there are other people on this earth and not only here in our country.
2.Their point of view is of value at least some of the time unless they are drunk or sick or some other problem affects them
3 Imagination and willingness to try to look at the world differently and to be polite to those who differ from us if possible [Don’t declare war]
4 And letting them know why you see things differently if appropriate
Mary was looking through the front window trying to guess whether her neighbour’s car was there; she did not want to meet him if she went outside. To her surprise she saw her neighbour on the other side, Annie walking down the road wearing a brand new and lovely sheepskin coat
I wonder where she has got that coat from, Mary wondered to herself She never mentioned that she was going to buy an expensive coat for the winter. perhaps she’s been lucky in a second-hand shop, but even second-hand it will be pretty expensive She opened the door and called out,Hello. Annie came running in just like Dave the paramedic.
Hello Mary is there something wrong and she asked her gently?
Nothing is wrong I am just envious of your coat.
Why would you like to be my coat? Are you a lesbian? Do you want to keep me warm in a manner of speaking
I should have said I am jealous but that doesn’t sound right either does it; what is the right word? I wish that I could afford a coat like yours is that envy or jealousy?
Said Annie I don’t know. I never used to listen to the nuns when they were talking about Ethics and morals I used to stare out of the window and imagine what it would be like lying on the grass with Fred Astaire or Leonard Cohen
I wish I was able to do that,said Mary .but my father died when I was 8 years old and it gave me a feeling of guilt which has never really left me. So I always paid careful attention to all the sins the nuns told us about ; then I would make list of sins or feelings and try to understand what they meant But envy and jealousy are quite difficult No they are not said Annie ,jealousy is a three person : you have your husband or boyfriend but you worry another woman might tempt him away
Well you tempted my husband away,Mary told her ruefully
Why, were you jealous ? said Annie.At least he was near home and you knew that I was looking after him while you were at work>What ever looking after him means she said, thinking of Prince Charles and his first wife Princess Diana.
Envy is a two person relationship , you envy me my coat and you will kill me to get it or destroy me and the coat and knock my house down
Don’t worry I don’t feel like that, said Mary but I’d like to know where you got it from as the weather has gone very cold and it might be just the thing for me
Well I stole it said Annie cunningly
My goodness you are a very wicked woman how do you bear the shame i
Why are you still friends with me ,asked Annie her politely?
I don’t really know. I suppose I like you and Stan was bored being at home all the time except for Emile so I suppose I got used to it. I found the whole thing quite intriguing I wish I had got married again so that you could have had an affair with my second husband but unfortunately I don’t seem to know how to get one .
Where do women get them from?
God Only Knows cried Annie in a rude tone of voice;s you can’t buy them in a shop ;some find them online at places like tinder and other people flirt with all the men at work until one of them gives in
My problem is I don’t know how to flirt ,Mary admitted nonchalantly
You do know how to flirt Annie said. You must No I don’t I thought it was genetic .are you telling me it is down to the environment?
That makes it sound rather like IQ ,Mary told her
I just never felt free enough to wink and flutter my eyelids,How did you learn,Annie
I don’t really know it just seems part of my personality. Maybe it would have been better if I had studied Hebrew and Greek but unfortunately I failed all my examinations except those is involving men’s bodies
You are awful, said Mary I have only seen one man’s body and that was my husband’s
Well if are you happy with your husband what’s the point of loooking at other men’s bodies?
I suppose you had better come inside and let me try that coat on
Alright said Annie. I didn’t steal it that man in the house with a tartan wallpaper gave it to me, do you remember him. I was trying to get him into bed but he wanted to marry me ;I didn’t want to get married again so he very kindly buys me many presents like coats and silk underwear
Do you think it’s right to accept such expensive presents from an old man who wanted to marry you?
Well if we were married I would have spent a lot more,Annie informed her geometrically
I guess you’re right said Mary. if he wants to give you something it’s not evil although it might make some people think that you are a kept woman
They both burst out laughing at this old fashioned name and walked into the kitchen where Emile was looking at a goldfish in a bowl as if it was the Pearl of great price
I was struck by your words
I hope they didn’t make holes in your face
Think nothing of it
It’s hard to think of nothing
I meant, don’t keep brooding
Hens brood
But you are not a hen
Well,I’ve been called worse
Worse than what?
Anything you can imagine
I never imagine
Do you mean you don’t day dream?
I control my mind with a rod of iron
But your mind is not a physical object
Well, what is it then, a spirit?
Descartes said so
I’ll drink to that.Pass the brandy
If we weren’t unanimous
about keeping our lives so much in motion,
if we could do nothing for once,
perhaps a great silence would
interrupt this sadness,
this never understanding ourselves
and threatening ourselves with death,
perhaps the earth is teaching us
when everything seems to be dead
and then everything is alive.
Now I will count to twelve
and you keep quiet and I’ll go.
Moses Maimonides adopted Aristotelianism from the Islamic scholars and based his famous Guide for the Perplexed on it and that became the basis of Jewish scholastic philosophy. Although some of Aristotle’s logical works were known to western Europe, it was not until the Latin translations of the 12th century that the works of Aristotle and his Arabic commentators became widely available. Scholars such as Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas interpreted and systematized Aristotle’s works in accordance with Christian theology.
After retreating under criticism from modern natural philosophers, the distinctively Aristotelian idea of teleology was transmitted through Wolff and Kant to Hegel, who applied it to history as a totality. Although this project was criticized by Trendelenburg and Brentano as non-Aristotelian, Hegel’s influence is now often said to be responsible for an important Aristotelian influence upon Marx. Postmodernists, in contrast, reject Aristotelianism’s claim to reveal important theoretical truths. In this, they follow Heidegger‘s critique of Aristotle as the greatest source of the entire tradition of Western philosophy.¨
Your painting arrested me.
There aren´t enough police -people any more.I am PC, you see.Eyes see.
I mean it stole my attention
So now itś a thief!
I am trying to compliment you
Let me know what is complementary to a man like myself
I mean I not He
Who is He?
I am not sure.
Look,I prefer Aristotelean logic.
Do stop showing off.I prefer it fuzzy.
Well, your hair needs combing. I see..
How do you spell Aristotelian?
Keep to the spoken word and no worries
But I write letters
Draw them instead.
I am not a magnet,you know
Well, who are your followers?
They are not stuck on to me
Magnetic force is not glue
So the sun is not glued to the sky?
Did you think it was?
Well, we ŕe getting mixed up with gravity
Better to stick to levity
Godś own glue.Don´t hesitate.Be saved now
I am not money!
But you use it!
He who would transient be
Can use a plaster
A plasterer is more handy
With your face I so agree
The chiropodist said she liked my feet.If only we could unscrew them, she could replace mine.
I found the flu jab less painful than seeing the government squabble
It´s best to think of what we can still do,not what we can´t
Does reading about Brexit make one go blind?
The pharmacist said I was the only person willing to obey the instruction to sit down for 10 minutes after the jab.Such a rushed life
The great lyric poets of the English language wrote — and, I hope, are still writing — words which have their own melodic quality, cadences which lure composers to add music to them. Shakespeare, Herrick, Blake, Tennyson, Burns, Yeats have been set to music by numerous composers, creating a lasting heritage of English song. A smaller but intriguing category is poetry that is not turned into song but is spoken to music. Grand master of this compositional genre is Jim Parker.
‘I was an orchestral oboe player,’ he says, ‘but I was always wanting to get away from that and do something a bit more creative so I joined the Barrow Poets, as an oboist and possibly to do some arranging. It developed from there when I started composing music specially for them. There were other groups of poets and musicians around, like the Scaffold, Roger McGough’s band, but they were writing songs. We set poems to music but we didn’t really do songs because none of us could claim to have been a singer.’
In 1974, as a result of this, he was asked to write music for some poems by John Betjeman, to be read by the poet himself. And the fruit of that collaboration was the wonderful Banana Blush. ‘I didn’t think Betjeman could sing,’ remembers Parker, ‘so what I did was to write music that accompanies the words.
You say you love yet mail me such harsh words
You say you care yet shoot me down to die
As if you are a despot always heard
While in black silence. I in pain must lie.
You say you would embrace me with your love
But could I in your presence ever rest?
I must be prostrate and you above
I must be the lowest, you the best
.
You never ask what I may want or need
Am I not human, have I not a soul?
I must offer help when your skin bleeds
Mine might peel away and leave me cold
Oh,foolish woman,I believed you true !
I am no judge of men, I’ll stick to glue
Alfred by Kathryn
An ancient skill, the making of a rope
I was struck by your words
The chiropodist said she liked my feet.If only we could unscrew them, she could replace mine.
How my heart speaks 
