Stan's Yorkshire puddings

  • Stan was cooking the Sunday dinner.As usual up North it was roast beef and Yorkshire puddings.Stan was very good with  Yorkshire puddings.
    They ate them with gravy before the main course just to maintain tradition.Even Emile,their talking cat, loved a pudding soaked in thick meaty gravy..Suddenly the kitchen door burst open and in rushed their neighbour Annie… covered in blue paint.
    What’s happened to you,hinny,Stan enquired naughtily.Surely you are not house painting on  a Sunday?
    No,I never paint  thee housemyself,she responded.I was in the shed and a stray cat was up on the top shelf.It leaped off  and knocked over over this  old tin of paint.I’m wondering how to get it out of my hair?The paint,not the cat!
    What type of paint is it?
    It’s emulsion paint.
    Well,I’m afraid you can’t get it out!
    I can’t go around town with blue hair,she cried hysterically..
    Well,all I can think is,I could cut off a little of your hair.
    OK, if that’s the only way.she said,being keen on Stan’s touching her even if only on the head.
    Can I stay and eat with you?
    Of course,sweetheart.Now here are some pinking shears.
    Have you no ordinary scissors?she screeched fractiously.
    No,we lost them.But pinking shears will give a layered effect.
    Stan began cuttting the left side of Annie’s hair.Then he went around to the right.
    She looked in the mirror,The left side  is a bit longer than the right.
    OK I’ll cut off a bit more on the left.
    Oh,my God.The shears slipped,it’s gone really short!
    All Stan could do was cut the remainder of Annie’s lovely hair so it was only 2.54 cm long all over.
    Suddenly Mary came in,I didn’t know you were a hair dresser she said sardonically to her husband.
    Well,Annie got paint in her hair so I’ve trimmed her hair.
    Trimmed it..it looks like she won’t need a cut for about two years.
    Annie began to sob noisily ,terrifying Emile who was hiding behind the flour bin.
    Well,Stan answered, it will be easier to wash and dry and no need for rollers etc
    I think it looks charming.
    Why pinking shears?Mary whispered.You could have used my dressmaking ones.
    Well,.too late now mioawed Emile sarcastically.
    Well,I think it looks sweet,said Stan bravely.
    Meantime,you have burned the puddings again
    Just like King Alfred and the cakes.Men are only good at savoury and meat dishes.
    It takes a woman to cook puddings and cakes.But Yorkshire puddings are savouries.
    I wonder how Wittgenstein would have classified them ?   cried Mary enthusiastically.
    Not Wittgenstein again,moaned Stan,can’t you move onto someone else?
    Whom do you suggest?
    Try Carnap for a while.
    Oh,he’s more of a logician,Mary said defiantly,You see I love Wittgenstein as a human being..
    Are you committing adultery ?Stan demanded  dominatingly That’s an exaggeration,He’s dead i believe.
    That’s what they all say,shouted Stan angrily.
    But what about you and Annie?
    Well,I get lonely with you lecturing and researching all day long.
    Surely you could wait till I come home?
    I suppose so,though a harem has always been my dream!
    I think you are past it,said Mary rudely.
    That’s not what I see, said Emile quietly.
    Meanwhile Annie had washed her hair an it dried in tiny uneven curls all over her head.
    It looks quite fetching,they decided as they sat down to eat the charred yorkshire puddings.
    What an exciting Sunday especially for Stan who enjoyed touching and playing with women’s hair.
    I wonder if it’s a mental illnes?
    I’ll have to look on the internet.Still, better than panic attacks, he thought consolingly as he carried the roast beef into the dining room where the women were discussing religious topics including a curiousity about why Christians were so anti Semitic despite Jesus’s wish for people to love each other.and besides Jesus being God,he was also a Jewish person too on his mother’s side.
    That’s interesting,Stan thought,Here people think he’s English!What a weird world it is,to be sure.
    Little children,love one another,as someone once said many years ago but humankind is still in the toddler stage of development I fear…. and going backwards too.

Butterflies and the clock

Clock on the mantelpiece beats like my heart,

More regular.not affected by emotion,vision,thought.

Cats stand proudly in their grey stone bodies

As if at the entrance to some other world.

The heating comes on with a bump,

and suddenly darkness is on us.

Clock,clock forever beating,

Will my heart outstay you?

will you tick for someone else?

Though strong in silver case

you feel nothing.

Give me another  human heart instead

to share my feelings.

Let another heart beat alongside mine,

and we’ll be tuned in unison,

sing our song of love,

or heartbreak.Human,made of flesh

We will drop like leaves

while he infernal clock beats steadily,

controlled by,not love

but radio waves.Imagine, now,

these waves multi-layered across the earth,

carrying shopping lists,time,date.

whilst we go on living ,

hearts fluttering  like a cloud of butterflies.

See they go now

climbing away

into the soft tenderness

of your  open hands.

Let your lips meet gently

Let your lips meet gently
the top one resting against the lower
touching with tenderness
your own  skin to skin.

 Forefinger  propped on chin,
I let the others dangle,
like leaves on a branch;
how softly gravity  tugs them downwards.

Let my heart beat quietly,slowly
as  the blood circulates carrying  its music ,
 a river,following the path of least resistance.
How the blood vessels receive willingly this flow,
touching it kindly as with tiny  open fingers,
helping and being helped.

How the hair on the head floats
 on the breeze,
like tentacles of an octopus
waving goodbye.

Top  eyelid loves the lower one;
as we blink they touch
like lovers kissing swiftly
behind a tree.
and how the light comes in.

we see a world.
[mine may not be yours,]
but the blink of my eyelid
sends waves through the air,
we’re  touching and being touched,
lips kissing each other,
kiss all living creatures,
skin to skin,
air to air.

And inside us,the rich darkness
of creative night
transforms  in turn
these touches
into many- layered daydreams
of delight.

What colour paints to buy for watercolour classes

 Watercolour by William Turner,the great English painter

 

 I have mislaid the author’s name but  click on the link “Back to contents”and you will be taken to his excellent  site

General Needs

To take up watercolour painting you will need Paints, Brushes, a water container, Mixing palette, a board, a pencil, watercolour paper and a putty eraser. The general rule is to buy the best you can afford as you will get better results with higher quality equipment and materials. Back to contents

Paints

Watercolour paints are manufactured in Student Quality and Artists Quality. They are available in either pans (cakes of colour) or in tubes, both in various sizes. They are manufactured specifically for ‘watercolour’ painting and are fundamentally transparent. There are other water based paints which are designed to be opaque i.e. Gouache (sometimes called Designers’ colours) and Chinese watercolours which are generally unsuitable for traditional English watercolours.
Tubes are more convenient when painting large areas, they cause less wear on brushes and save time. They allow fresh, uncontaminated colour to be used at the start of each painting.
Pans are more compact and easily transportable.
My preference: TUBES
Student quality paints are OK for beginners and improvers (some professional artists use them). They are relatively inexpensive and can produce good glowing watercolour paintings. The cost is standard throughout the range. Student quality paints usually use substitute pigments for the more expensive pigments used in Artist Quality paints (The description ‘Hue’ after the colour normally indicates this). Student quality paints may not be as transparent and/or light fast as artist quality. Winsor and Newton call their student quality ‘ Cotman’, and Daler Rowney’s are called ‘Georgian’
Artist quality paints are normally grouped into categories which designates a cost band as the pigments used to produce different colours vary considerably in price. e.g. Series 1 to series 5 for Winsor and Newton. There are many other brands available such as St. Petersburg, Michael Wilcox, etc.
Paints are packaged in boxed sets of pans or tubes or sold as separate colours.
Start with at least Student Quality – don’t use lower quality than this i.e. watercolour boxes intended for children’ as it will be difficult, if not impossible, to produce glowing pictures.
It’s better to start with a few colours and mix others rather than have a large number of ready made colours.
Buy separate colours, this way you will be able to select the colours that you want. (Colour is part of an artists style)
A good starting palette of student quality paints is:
Essentials: Ultramarine, Cerulean Blue Hue, Cadmium Red Hue, Alizarin Crimson, Cadmium Yellow Pale Hue, Lemon yellow.
These six colours, Warm Blue / Cold Blue, Warm Red / Cold Red & Warm Yellow / Cold Yellow, enable the mixing of a wide range of colours.
Useful additional colours are:
Light Red, Raw Sienna, Burnt Sienna, Burnt Umber, Payne’s Gray, Cobalt blue, Winsor blue, New Gamboge Hue.
Ready made greens are not essential for landscape and flower paintings as a wide range of greens can be mixed from the colours

Emile the cat goes to the vet

  •  Stan realised it was time for Emile to have his annual flu jab.He stopped polishing the windows  and picked up the phone. .Hello,it’s Stan here.Can I make an appointment for Emile?

    Yes, come today if Emile has had a bath!
    Are you joking?
    Yes,the receptionist responded cheerfully
    Actually he did have a bath and now can swim breasttroke!
    How amazing,she said cunningly.
    Stan got out Emile’s travelling basket.He put some copies of The Independent inside
    in case Emile was bored.
    Here,Emile,I’m taking you for a ride in the car.Kindly step into your basket please.
    Can’t I sit by you and wear a seat belt?
    I fear it’s illegal.
    Stan answered jauntily.He climbed into the basket and sat up staring out boldly with his great amber eyes.

    The doorbell rang.

    Hello,Annie,Would you like to come to the vet’s with us?

    She looked down at her violet velvet tracksuit and purple trainers with real gold laces

    .
    Yes, wonderful.I’ll sit in the back with Emile
    .
    After ten minutes they arrived and parked the car under an elm tree.

    Stan carried the basket steadily, not wanting the poor cat to fall in an undignified manner

    Annie looked at her green nails
    .
    Do you like my nail varnish,Stan?

    To be honest, darlingI prefer shell pink.

    Why is that,pet?

    It is more feminine!

    Feminine! But you can see I’m feminine!

    I like you to be even more feminine.Excesively,bewideringly blindly femimine

    Oh,yes ,agreed Emile,So do I.

    You men,she cried sweetly you are ,never satisfied.

    I wouldn’t say that,my America,my Newfoundland!

    What’s up  ? Swallowed the dictionary.

    It’s a poem,actually
    .
    You’ve been reading that poetry again.It’s bad for you.you’ll ruin your eyes.

    Don’t you like to be my new found land?

    A bit late to ask  me now,she murmured seductively rolling her eyes
    .
    In a   moment they were in the empty waiting room.

    Then a man came in with a big black dog.Emile stared f
    iercely with his big amber eyes,

     and the dog whimpered and lay down on the floor.

    The vet came out and asked Stan to bring Emile in.Emile gave a yell at the dog before Stan

    shut the door
    .
    So,said the beautiful young vet,how is pussy today.

    Emile remained silent.He’s fine,just needs his flu jab.muttered Stan.

    Come now,Emile come out of there.But Emile was clinging to his basket with all his sharp claws
    .
    Are you afraid Emile?He asked kindly

    No,I’m not afraid,I’m just acting how vets expect cats to act.

    So Emile speaks English?

    He knows French too.

    Je t’aime, Emile.

    Bedankt,madame.

    Stop showing off and get out of there,She doesn’t speak Dutch.

    Mein mutter wast immer krank,cried Emile

    Get out now!

    Emile came out slowly and stood by this good lady

    .She looks a bit like Annie, he whispered.

    The vet took out a small needle and swiftly  and skilfully injected Emile.

    What a good boy,she stated scientifically,would you like a jelly baby?

    A jelly baby!Cats don’t eat jelly babies!

    Well, have a go!

    Emile stalked back to his basket,put on some glasses

    and began to read the editorial in The Independent.

    Stan was hoping to make a suggestive remark to the vet,but Annie came in.

    Hurry up,there’s a thunderstorm coming.Her nails were now pink.

    Did you change your nail varnish?

    No,the green was artificial nails!I took them off.

    Can I have some claw varnish.demanded Emile

    What colour?

    I fancy teal,Emile miaowed.

    Teal!How ludicrous!

    What about red?

    Too pretentious.

    I don’t think I’ll bother then,the cat said languidly

    We men don’t have to bother about such things.

    Well,you are lucky said Annie.

    I hate makeup and nail varnish,blow dries and manicures but I don’t feel feminine without it.

    You feel very feminine to me said Stan,running his hand softly along her forearm

    and patting her behind!

    Stan!Not here in the road!

    Why not?        enquired Emile.It looks ideal to me if you go behind those bushes.

    Annie jumped into the car and drove away leaving Stan to carry Emile

     to the bus stop for a tedious journey home.She came back.

    Let’s all go home.I’m sorry I drove away.I’m feeling a bit blue today.

    They got in and arrived safely home where Stan brewed a big pot of tea

     and let Annie sit on the sofa with her feet on cushion.He rubbed her head gently.Lovely,she purred.

    I like having my head stroked.So do I,said Emile loudly but alas they were too busy to hear or to care,

     so much enjoying their blissful reunion.

Dr Packet

I once had a doctor called Parkin

 who was given to humour and larkin’.

When I took of my coat

He made a swift note

Until my old dog started barkin’.

I said,doctor you are very precise

But is taking notes always wise?

I don’t want to forget

The first time we met.

I always felt you were so nice!

But I’m here because I am in pain.

He shouted out,No,not again!

I said,keep your voice down

It’ll be alround the town.

And I don’t want to harm your old brain.

I tried self hypnosis and calm,

I tried pain pills and unguents and balm.

I had chinese massage,

And was assessed for triage.

At least hypnosis doesn’t harm