Category: fiction

Stan has a perplexing day

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[Image by my sister]

Stan was standing on a small step ladder washing his windows yet again with a clean blue microfibre and elastane cloth and some windolene he had bought in Tesco’s
I don’t know why I bother,he whispered to Emile, who as usual was watching from the back of the sofa,which he was “milking” gently with his paws.
With all the rain,the outside of the windows was besmirched by leaves and bits of mud.A  wiser man  might have left it alone but Stan had O.C.D which made him very nervous if he failed to carry out certain tasks… so he made use of it in house chores and baking perfect cakes and buns..and in taking  photos of frogs,birds and flowers.Neurosis can be useful sometimes.
All of a sudden he heard clattering footsteps…
Up the garden path walked two women dressed in the latest style of 3/4 length silk cargo trousers with matching blouses, all in a subtle shade of violet.Except for their faces,of course,which were both a light shade of beige and they had Revlon peach blusher on their cheeks with Chanel scarlet lipstick…on their lips.They also wore dark blue nail varnish from Rimmel
“Good morning,Stan!” called one of them.”We are Annie’s ‘s cousins from Pittsburgh.She told us to call on you today.”
“Well,I never knew wearing expensive makeup ran in the genes… can there be any other explanation?”Stan asked stupidly.
“Annie told us we must wear it all the time in the UK.” she responded,”even in bed.”
“You seem a bit fast,” he answered,
“I’m not sure I want to go to bed and as you seem like identical twins,which of you should I bed?”
They burst out laughing….oh,what a strange  noise that seemed to this sweet old man
“I was just saying what she told us,not meaning that you need to go to bed with us.In fact, we sleep together at night.”
“As children that would be normal,but don’t you think you should separate now?People might think you are gay!”
“We never worry about stuff like that… and by the way,this is Ruby and I am Rosie.”
“I’ll put on the kettle and make you some coffee,” the dear and anxious  man said in a kind tone of voice,before he went into the kitchen and swallowed a handful of red and green striped valium tablets.
“I wish the psychiatrist would give me some therapy.I don’t like taking valium but I seem to be having visions again… and I don’t want to get worse..I never heard Annie mention cousins in the USA. I wonder if CBT would help me?” he said to Emile.
“I see visions all the time,” the cat replied in a matter of fact and calm way.
“Do they not make you feel anxious?”Stan called.
“No,I just watch them drift by,” purred Emile.”I enjoy them.”
“I wish these two women would drift off.”responded the weary yet charming  Stan.

Ruby and Rosie came inside and admired the kitchen where colanders in many colours hung from the wall into which someone had knocked a few dozen nails.
“”Why do you have sixteen colanders?”asked Rosie.
“Why do you think everything has a reason?”Stan replied.
“I can see you studied philosophy,” Ruby cried disconsolately as she loved an argument
“No,I have just read Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein eight times,” he quipped merrily.
“Wow,is it not boring?” they murmured softly like two doves in spring time
“No.it’s so good it put me off reading lesser books.And I love to understand things,”
Just then Stan tripped on the rug and fell over. unconscious.
.Emile picked up his mobile with its full Qwerty key pad and texted 999.
“Why are you texting?”asked Ruby.
“Well,it difficult to mioaw down a phone and now I have this Blackberry it’s so easy…. why even a mouse could do it.”
“Do you know many mice,Emile?” enquired Ruby wistfully as she felt very lonely at times
Rosie slowly made some instant coffee, walking around poor Stan ,unconscious on the floor…and she and her twin sat down on some white Swedish chairs at the old oak table and drank it,gazing shyly at the huge weigelia blooming outside in the shed.
The front door opened and in ran Dave,the bisexual paramedic.
“Is it you,Emile.Have you lost your hankie again.Are you sad?” he moaned nervously.
“No,it’s Stan… but at least he’s not broken the chair”
Stan came too and looked up. at Dave.
“Oh, lovely,I feel much better for that nap” he said brightly as he was such a positive person..
“Don’t you have a bed to sleep in?” said Ruby querulously.”I like your mean expression,my dear man.”
“Now,look here said Stan,”I’m too old for any monkey business. Besides,I don’t know if you are real.”
“We just wondered why you slept on the floor.”
“A man has to do what a man has to do,” came the mystifying response.
“Now that Dave is here,he can take one of you and I’ll take the other.”
“Where will you take us”the twins asked delightedly.
“Do you fancy the cinema… they are showing Monsieur Hulot’s Holiday”
“Don’t tell me he’s still on his summer holiday!” riposted Ruby
“Let’s go in the ambulance.I’ll lie on the stretcher” offered Rosie generously..
“I’ll lie by you,”said Dave.” and Emile can drive.Stan and Ruby can lie on the floor.”
Sometimes life seems so simple,it’s rather like a dream controlled..
Controlled by what,asked Emile,clutching his Blackberry.
But answer came there none…
And that was very odd because.. they’d vanished every one…
To read more,why not take out a subscription?At just £100 a day,it’s value for money…as money no longer has any value!

Stan and his ass

 

????????????

 

Stan was outside polishing both his balding his head and the brass doorstep.”My,these microfiber cloths are wonderful” he thought joyfully.Mary was out taking a large bag of unneeded clothes to the Oxfam Charity Shop.Thank God!,thought Stan…that wardrobe is going to burst one day and spray her clothes all over the room like …what? Not cannon balls,maybe like the ghosts of dead giant sized bats!

Suddenly he heard a loud cry and then he felt a pair of hands fondling the top of his bald head.

“Eeh,no rest for the wicked,even at 81,” he screamed.He staggered to his feet and rubbed his knees.

“Just give me a hand” ,he said,”I’ll have to stretch my hamstrings.They tighten up so.”

“I’ll stretch them for you!” Annie whispered roguishly.Stan leant forward to touch his toes and she could not resist the temptation to give his bottom a tender slap.

“For Pete‘s sake,Annie” he shouted turbulently.

“Someone might see that.”

“Don’t worry,there’s no-one around at this time of the day” she tittered.

“I can’t help it anyway.I just love your ass.That’s what women like.”

“Do you normally slap the things you love?” Stan enquired politely yet firmly….what next?

“And furthermore “ass” is an American expression.

“Well,I’ve always been fond of Americans,”she whispered naughtily.

Stan recalled that her son had borne a strong resemblance to Bill Clinton but refrained from mentioning this.Anway Annie had never been to Oxford,as far as he knew and Clinton was only there for a year…though a man could father many children in a year as the terms at Oxford were only eight weeks long… leaving 28 weeks vacation.

“What do you think of my ass?” she murmered humorously.

“I’d rather have a donkey.” he said childishly.

“I could ride on it into the town.”

“You are so horrible,Stan.You never pass any  jocular yet charming remarks about my body.”

“I never knew you lacked confidence in that department,” he said peevishly.

“Besides,you know I prefer to show my feelings non verbally!

With that he pretended to kick Annie on the butt with his Hotter laced up shoes.

“Now then,what’s going on here.You seem like a couple of teenagers!”

It was Dave,the paramedic.

He had been lying behind the wheelie bins,all three bins standing plaintively in the tiny front garden, where once fragrant red roses had bloomed in summer and scratched people with their thorns all the rest of the year.

“I’m an MI5 spy,and I’ve been reading your blog,Mr Brown.”

“I’m not called Brown”,said Stan proudly.

“Refuses to accept reality,”Dave wrote in his little notepad with some blood he had taken from himself earlier,

“Jesus Christ!”,said Stan.

“Now,now” said Dave,”that’s not your name,

“No my name is Tan,not Brown,you’ve been reading the wrong blog!”

“Stan Tan!”

Dave appeared crestfallen,

“Any chairs need mending today?”

“My what beautiful ears you have,sweetheart,”he said to Annie,

“They look like sea shells,”

“Your eyes are like shallow pools in Lake Windermere during a thunderstorm.”Annie replied womanfully.

“Are you still a transvestite?” she followed on incoherently.

“And how about my ass?”

“I never knew you had an ass.Is it in the back garden?

I had a mystical experience and now I’m a Zen Bhuddist”

“How did that happen?” demanded Stan querulously.

“Well,I was knitting myself a Shetland lace sweater in pale blue mohair,and I suddenly had the feeling that everything was interwoven.

Going forward or backwards,sideways or straight ahead,it is all part of the warp and weft of life.”

“Mistakes don’t matter” he continued wildly his eyes gleaming like the preacher’s at Hyde Park Corner

“Oh,yes,they do,”Annie said pouting her full lips,cherry pink by courtesy of L’Oreal of Paris and New York

“As I was saying..,”

“Dingle,dongle,dingle,dongle”…

Emile the cat ran out expectantly,knowing the sound of a human imitating a bicycle bell.He was already salivating expectantly.

Dave dived back behind the wheelie bins.

Stan polished the brass step and Annie disappeared in a puff of smoke.

It was Mary’s famous imitation of a bicycle bell that had alerted them all to her imminent return from the Oxfam shop,fortunately.

In fact Mary knew everything but didn’t want them to know she knew,for if she knew and they knew she knew,she knew it would make life too complex.she just knew it,for sure.I know she knew,though she doesn’t know that I knew.

 

“Don’t they make bike bells any more?” Dave boringly wondered as he carried on reading the new life of the poet Emily Dickinson named

“A loaded gun.”

He had thought it was an army training manual,but,hey,mistakes don’t matter!

Or do they?

Read the next instalment yesterday at your local newsagent,free at the point of service just like the NHS and watch your ass as you never know who else is watching it.Though as you will never know,this fact will never impinge on you.Though you may feel a kind of tingling sometimes…

You know it makes sense!Sometimes,at least.

 

I have had to imitate a bicycle bell all my life till now….I have real bell on my bike..how cool is that?

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Mary Adair 2 and the reading glasses

Instead of going to the pub to meet men,Mary went on FB and changed her name
Unfortunatly  her name was also changed on the Page where she was insulted  and every where she had been.
I have learned something useful, she said to Dave who had come because Emile had rung 999
Better if you had not visited their page,he told  her sensibly, then Emile would be happy
Yes, she said,each side is as bad as the other,You must either totally agree or be called a vicious Monster.There is no space for debate so why even try?
Just then the phone rang
Hello, it’s Noreen ,she heard
Mary, I am so happy you have changed your name
Are you,Mary asked in suprise
Yes,my grandparents were Scottish and  none of the relatives are left,
so as you are partly Scottish too it’s lovely you chose to emphasis that
Well, stone the crows,Mary thought.How unpredictable life is.And how one unexpected event  led to a   good talk with Noreen
Well, since Stan is not here,I’d better do some housework. she told Dave
On the other hand if Annie and  you,Dave, accept my untidiness, why  should i worry?
After all it’s wonderful finding books I had  forgotten I had.Not to mention 30 pairs of tights and my reading glasses
Emile looked at her turquoise glasses
Can I have some reading glasses Mother?
Why? demanded Mary angrily
Then they will read stories to me as they can already read
Mary wondered how to explain to a cat that  the lenses of humans’ eyes become less flexible with age like their minds, perhaps
Then she thought of Donald Trump who needs King Canute
to explain  that no human is omnipotent and that viruses are unable to distinguish between him and another  old person even Joe Biden
Why the family of the first virus might have relatives near Joe.
But how do viruses communicate?They  have no voices,eyes or hands
Might it be they live in another reality? Do they have minds withour having  brains?
Or brains without minds
Dave ran out of the house wondering how to help Mary
And so would all of us!

Moses was an eruption

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Moses was an Eruption I hear.So he had to be kept warm in a basket.
Then Foureyes daughter let him gloat  down on the  River Nile…till a bull rushed him
He  was turned into a shrew and found God.. or God found him
But God would not let him find Galilee so he found Emilee ,Loelee and Phoeebilee instead.
He had many children such as Matthew,Hark,Look and Gone.They were all men and had more children with no wives. Adam did have Eve but  who did Cain and Abel marry? Eve?
Is this what Freud never realized… men used to marry their mothers and later their daughters who were also their sisters,Crikey,what a blunder
Blimey what is this Bible? Libel?
As we were taught in school Daniel lived with a lion and a lamb.I’m unsure if they had children…. it might explain a lot if they did.
And finally Solomon was very wise.It was easier then when there was no judge or jury to stop him cutting a baby in two… well, he was just pretending.
I say,the Shrews were very shrewd and clever.Like who told Adam and Eve what to do before Masters and Johnson wrote that book,Human Textual Despondency?
In any case Adam could not read.In fact they didn’t write either.And to think children here can write so young.Adam and Eve were a bit lacking but they have lots of family
Everybody on Earth… pity they are dead and can’t see us though God knows they’d be shocked if they saw our behaviour to our family

Stan and his ass

 

????????????

 

Stan was outside polishing both his balding his head and the brass doorstep.”My,these microfiber cloths are wonderful” he thought joyfully.Mary was out taking a large bag of unneeded clothes to the Oxfam Charity Shop.Thank God!,thought Stan…that wardrobe is going to burst one day and spray her clothes all over the room like …what? Not cannon balls,maybe like the ghosts of dead giant sized bats!

Suddenly he heard a loud cry and then he felt a pair of hands fondling the top of his bald head.

“Eeh,no rest for the wicked,even at 81,” he screamed.He staggered to his feet and rubbed his knees.

“Just give me a hand” ,he said,”I’ll have to stretch my hamstrings.They tighten up so.”

“I’ll stretch them for you!” Annie whispered roguishly.Stan leant forward to touch his toes and she could not resist the temptation to give his bottom a tender slap.

“For Pete‘s sake,Annie” he shouted turbulently.

“Someone might see that.”

“Don’t worry,there’s no-one around at this time of the day” she tittered.

“I can’t help it anyway.I just love your ass.That’s what women like.”

“Do you normally slap the things you love?” Stan enquired politely yet firmly….what next?

“And furthermore “ass” is an American expression.

“Well,I’ve always been fond of Americans,”she whispered naughtily.

Stan recalled that her son had borne a strong resemblance to Bill Clinton but refrained from mentioning this.Anway Annie had never been to Oxford,as far as he knew and Clinton was only there for a year…though a man could father many children in a year as the terms at Oxford were only eight weeks long… leaving 28 weeks vacation.

“What do you think of my ass?” she murmered humorously.

“I’d rather have a donkey.” he said childishly.

“I could ride on it into the town.”

“You are so horrible,Stan.You never pass any  jocular yet charming remarks about my body.”

“I never knew you lacked confidence in that department,” he said peevishly.

“Besides,you know I prefer to show my feelings non verbally!

With that he pretended to kick Annie on the butt with his Hotter laced up shoes.

“Now then,what’s going on here.You seem like a couple of teenagers!”

It was Dave,the paramedic.

He had been lying behind the wheelie bins,all three bins standing plaintively in the tiny front garden, where once fragrant red roses had bloomed in summer and scratched people with their thorns all the rest of the year.

“I’m an MI5 spy,and I’ve been reading your blog,Mr Brown.”

“I’m not called Brown”,said Stan proudly.

“Refuses to accept reality,”Dave wrote in his little notepad with some blood he had taken from himself earlier,

“Jesus Christ!”,said Stan.

“Now,now” said Dave,”that’s not your name,

“No my name is Tan,not Brown,you’ve been reading the wrong blog!”

“Stan Tan!”

Dave appeared crestfallen,

“Any chairs need mending today?”

“My what beautiful ears you have,sweetheart,”he said to Annie,

“They look like sea shells,”

“Your eyes are like shallow pools in Lake Windermere during a thunderstorm.”Annie replied womanfully.

“Are you still a transvestite?” she followed on incoherently.

“And how about my ass?”

“I never knew you had an ass.Is it in the back garden?

I had a mystical experience and now I’m a Zen Bhuddist”

“How did that happen?” demanded Stan querulously.

“Well,I was knitting myself a Shetland lace sweater in pale blue mohair,and I suddenly had the feeling that everything was interwoven.

Going forward or backwards,sideways or straight ahead,it is all part of the warp and weft of life.”

“Mistakes don’t matter” he continued wildly his eyes gleaming like the preacher’s at Hyde Park Corner

“Oh,yes,they do,”Annie said pouting her full lips,cherry pink by courtesy of L’Oreal of Paris and New York

“As I was saying..,”

“Dingle,dongle,dingle,dongle”…

Emile the cat ran out expectantly,knowing the sound of a human imitating a bicycle bell.He was already salivating expectantly.

Dave dived back behind the wheelie bins.

Stan polished the brass step and Annie disappeared in a puff of smoke.

It was Mary’s famous imitation of a bicycle bell that had alerted them all to her imminent return from the Oxfam shop,fortunately.

In fact Mary knew everything but didn’t want them to know she knew,for if she knew and they knew she knew,she knew it would make life too complex.she just knew it,for sure.I know she knew,though she doesn’t know that I knew.

 

“Don’t they make bike bells any more?” Dave boringly wondered as he carried on reading the new life of the poet Emily Dickinson named

“A loaded gun.”

He had thought it was an army training manual,but,hey,mistakes don’t matter!

Or do they?

Read the next instalment yesterday at your local newsagent,free at the point of service just like the NHS and watch your ass as you never know who else is watching it.Though as you will never know,this fact will never impinge on you.Though you may feel a kind of tingling sometimes…

You know it makes sense!Sometimes,at least.

 

I have had to imitate a bicycle bell all my life till now….I have real bell on my bike..how cool is that?

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Mary is worrried:tales from the UK

On Saturday afternoon after luncb ,or midday dinner as we said up north before winning places in posh universities  which stole our native language, Mary began to feel very nervous, as she was going to the hospital with Stan on Monday for his next appointment with Dr.Range Rover.
Mary was puzzled.She felt almost happy last week about seeing this kind hearted and gracious well dressed female doctor.However she had been shunted sideways onto a male doctor who was almost totally silent.. so much so that he seemed to absorb Mary’s questions into his sponge of a brain without feeling the need to respond.
Why do I feel so apprehensive this week? Mary asked her dear black cat Emile.
After all.I was happy to see her or to even have a biopsy last weekend.Why have I changed in my feelings so much in a week?
Does it matter? purred Emile.
Maybe your mood is affected by something else.. like fatigue or housework or the ravages of age… [he was well read]
We don’t always know why we feel a certain way but I feel it’s good if we are willing to accept these negative moods.Even I have my moods when the fish you get me is not the right sort and you don’t give me my cat’s handkerchief neatly ironed.
You are so wise,Emile,especially as,being a cat,you never have to endure these interviews with consultants in horrible outpatients clinics.So you must have a wonderful empathy for humans
This lady doctor tomorrow is exciting me,cried Emile loudly.May I come  with you inside your Grace Kelly handbag.
What’s wrong with my shopping bag? Good grammar,by the way..
Well,she wil be surprised if you take a heavy shopping bag even if it has a Mondrian design on it… she may get suspicious.. even paranoid.If I am in your handbag she will not realise.
Not unless you miaow,mused Mary benignly as she smiled down at him her singular eyes gleaming like the headlamps on a Roller.
I like to know the reason for things,she continued somewhat frantically.I think therefore I might be eventually.I am not yet,for sure.
Does everything have a reason,shouted Stan querulously from the hall…
Well ,it does,but it might be beyond human understanding like the Burning Bush..
We can only perceive what our language permits unless we are poets,mystics or artists and even then it’s tough to venture into the unknown,unthought or unknowable..
languages develop in societies and learning your language embeds you in many cultural assumptions without you realising it.You think it’s reality when it is just one perspective.
How true,screeched Annie their neighbour from outside the open patio door.

She stopped there in her teal velour tracksuit with pink bra peeping and  with  unusually  orange  lipstick  and  toning turquoise  eyeshadow and   on her feet were striped trainers with  red lights on which might give men the wrong idea about this pure and rich lady
You seem to be overthinking,she said to Mary.Are you sickening with the heat?It’s like loving too much, which may be co-dependency.
That’s a very silly pc word,said Stan rudely.We are all dependent but men can hide it until their wives run away with the milkman and they get a shock not knowing how much they’d miss her changing the sheets and buying their underpants and socks.And ironing their hankies
Surely that’s not the main reason a man might miss his wife,cried Mary as she carried in the tea tray with a big white insulated teapot.
Well,you can go on the web and find a virtual sex partner or even buy a dummy woman. but it’s tough to find a devoted woman who knows what you need to function.
Why don’t you buy your own underwear and use tissues?,asked Emile
Well,Emile,I put out the rubbish and wash the heavy Le Creuset pot.I see to the car and bikes.I paint the fence and even bake cakes.
Mary washes the clothes and changes the sheets unless she has an idea to write down.She kindly does all the worrying for both of us and I remain calm like a lighthouse.We complement each other ideally.. and we love each other and a few others as well..without giving away our secrets
That’s one waay of describing it,thought Mary without commenting out loud
Anyway,I am still wondering why I feel nervous about Dr Range Rover….
If you accepted the nervusness it might ease,said Annie wisely in her highly pitched  voice like a car siren going off at night
Just then the doorbell rang.It was Dave the bisexual transvestite paramedic.
Emile phoned 999 saying Mary was having kittens, he said rapidly.This really must stop;inter species sex is not allowed here like most sexual activity
He was speaking metaphorically or is it metonymically,Stan groaned.
Now you are here go and make us a fresh pot of tea and admire my new tea caddy.I bought it for Mary last week in that  new  ironmonger’s shop in town.
At your service,sir,Dave said politely,his flowered dress waving in the breeze.
Do you know anything about Dr Range Rover,Dave? Annie murmured
What is her reputation etc
Some people like her, Dave said,Usually men.she’s not so good with women..
Well it’s too late to change thought Mary so I shall have to willingly endure the agony of meeting her again as I cannot leave Stan on his own with her…
why who knows what might happen? She might become his mistress as he likes several nowadays. despite nearly being too thin to live…
God only knows, a little voice said.
Hello,said Mary.I’ve not heard from you lately.
Well,I am still here looking after you
Thank you, Lord,I love you, Mary shouted joyfully to the surprise of Stan and Annie, not to mention the cat Emile who was unlearned in the religion of his owners.
I thought you were an atheist,Annie said with horror.
I am an atheist and I still  believe in God.It’s what we call a paradox..Mary cried graciously….
What would Wittgenstein have said?
Whereof one cannot understand,therof one must be patient and tolerant,.
Why does Mary need to understand all her feelings…Stan wondered
When it’s raining she doesn’t spend hours wondering why and similarly if it’s raining in her heart she must take it like parched grass…she thinks too much.
Too much for what? Her sanity perhaps which has at times bei.ng doubtful but that has made her very understanding to those who find life hard.Everyone has value,even mad,nervous half blind, supersensitive, vulnerable,stout arthritic female mathematical geniuses like Mary.She enriches the tapestry of life in a very real sense as someone once said
And so say all of us,she’s a jolly good Fellow of All Proles College,Oxenford..you know how famous it is!Or soon will be.

Stan and his ass

 

????????????

 

Stan was outside polishing both his balding his head and the brass doorstep.”My,these microfiber cloths are wonderful” he thought joyfully.Mary was out taking a large bag of unneeded clothes to the Oxfam Charity Shop.Thank God!,thought Stan…that wardrobe is going to burst one day and spray her clothes all over the room like …what? Not cannon balls,maybe like the ghosts of dead giant sized bats!

Suddenly he heard a loud cry and then he felt a pair of hands fondling the top of his bald head.

“Eeh,no rest for the wicked,even at 81,” he screamed.He staggered to his feet and rubbed his knees.

“Just give me a hand” ,he said,”I’ll have to stretch my hamstrings.They tighten up so.”

“I’ll stretch them for you!” Annie whispered roguishly.Stan leant forward to touch his toes and she could not resist the temptation to give his bottom a tender slap.

“For Pete‘s sake,Annie” he shouted turbulently.

“Someone might see that.”

“Don’t worry,there’s no-one around at this time of the day” she tittered.

“I can’t help it anyway.I just love your ass.That’s what women like.”

“Do you normally slap the things you love?” Stan enquired politely yet firmly….what next?

“And furthermore “ass” is an American expression.

“Well,I’ve always been fond of Americans,”she whispered naughtily.

Stan recalled that her son had borne a strong resemblance to Bill Clinton but refrained from mentioning this.Anway Annie had never been to Oxford,as far as he knew and Clinton was only there for a year…though a man could father many children in a year as the terms at Oxford were only eight weeks long… leaving 28 weeks vacation.

“What do you think of my ass?” she murmered humorously.

“I’d rather have a donkey.” he said childishly.

“I could ride on it into the town.”

“You are so horrible,Stan.You never pass any  jocular yet charming remarks about my body.”

“I never knew you lacked confidence in that department,” he said peevishly.

“Besides,you know I prefer to show my feelings non verbally!

With that he pretended to kick Annie on the butt with his Hotter laced up shoes.

“Now then,what’s going on here.You seem like a couple of teenagers!”

It was Dave,the paramedic.

He had been lying behind the wheelie bins,all three bins standing plaintively in the tiny front garden, where once fragrant red roses had bloomed in summer and scratched people with their thorns all the rest of the year.

“I’m an MI5 spy,and I’ve been reading your blog,Mr Brown.”

“I’m not called Brown”,said Stan proudly.

“Refuses to accept reality,”Dave wrote in his little notepad with some blood he had taken from himself earlier,

“Jesus Christ!”,said Stan.

“Now,now” said Dave,”that’s not your name,

“No my name is Tan,not Brown,you’ve been reading the wrong blog!”

“Stan Tan!”

Dave appeared crestfallen,

“Any chairs need mending today?”

“My what beautiful ears you have,sweetheart,”he said to Annie,

“They look like sea shells,”

“Your eyes are like shallow pools in Lake Windermere during a thunderstorm.”Annie replied womanfully.

“Are you still a transvestite?” she followed on incoherently.

“And how about my ass?”

“I never knew you had an ass.Is it in the back garden?

I had a mystical experience and now I’m a Zen Bhuddist”

“How did that happen?” demanded Stan querulously.

“Well,I was knitting myself a Shetland lace sweater in pale blue mohair,and I suddenly had the feeling that everything was interwoven.

Going forward or backwards,sideways or straight ahead,it is all part of the warp and weft of life.”

“Mistakes don’t matter” he continued wildly his eyes gleaming like the preacher’s at Hyde Park Corner

“Oh,yes,they do,”Annie said pouting her full lips,cherry pink by courtesy of L’Oreal of Paris and New York

“As I was saying..,”

“Dingle,dongle,dingle,dongle”…

Emile the cat ran out expectantly,knowing the sound of a human imitating a bicycle bell.He was already salivating expectantly.

Dave dived back behind the wheelie bins.

Stan polished the brass step and Annie disappeared in a puff of smoke.

It was Mary’s famous imitation of a bicycle bell that had alerted them all to her imminent return from the Oxfam shop,fortunately.

In fact Mary knew everything but didn’t want them to know she knew,for if she knew and they knew she knew,she knew it would make life too complex.she just knew it,for sure.I know she knew,though she doesn’t know that I knew.

 

“Don’t they make bike bells any more?” Dave boringly wondered as he carried on reading the new life of the poet Emily Dickinson named

“A loaded gun.”

He had thought it was an army training manual,but,hey,mistakes don’t matter!

Or do they?

Read the next instalment yesterday at your local newsagent,free at the point of service just like the NHS and watch your ass as you never know who else is watching it.Though as you will never know,this fact will never impinge on you.Though you may feel a kind of tingling sometimes…

You know it makes sense!Sometimes,at least.

 

I have had to imitate a bicycle bell all my life till now….I have real bell on my bike..how cool is that?

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Emile weeps

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Stan was sweeping the garden path.He had a stiff broom with a small head that was useful for cleaning the edges of the steps.Emile, his beautiful cat was sitting in the old apple tree gazing down on Stan.
“Is it time for coffee yet,”Stan asked himself.He had forgotten to put on his watch.
Suddenly he heard a shriek.He peered through a hole in the fence.His neighbour Annie was lying on her back in some mud.
“Hang on,I’ll come round!” he called.
There was a gate in the old fence which was rarely locked
since Annie loved to drop in on Stan.
“Oh,Annie,how are you feeling?” he asked her anxiously.
“Bloody annoyed.I’ve only just bought these,”Not your daughter’s jeans” and now I’ve torn them,” she replied politely.
“But you don’t have a daughter!” he informed her loudly.
“I know that.It’s just they are better cut for the mature figure.”
“Your figure is not mature.You are quite slender.my dear,” he murmured lovingly.
“Well,I never feel happy with it!” she said mutinously.
“Whereas I am very happy feeling it,” he responded romantically.
Tears came into her green eyes lined with purple eye shadow.Alas,it was not waterproof and purple rivulets ran down her cheeks across the peach blusher with which she had valiantly decorated herself earlier.
“Can you get up?” he asked tenderly.
“Yes, but it would be nice if you picked me up.”
He leaned over her and licked the purple streams of tears off her cheeks.
“I hope it’s not poisonous,” she murmured.
Then with the aid of Emile,he lifted her to her feet and helped her into her large trendy kitchen.
The kettle switched itself on as they entered and a robotic voice asked if they’d like coffee.
“God in heaven,what the hell is that?” he cried confusedly.
“It’s my new computerised hot drink maker.After that fall I think a double espresso would be good.”
Emile ran in and asked for coffee too.
“Emile,you usually have milk,”Stan reminded him softly.
“Well,coffee is a new taste for me but I like a little.”
the cat whispered sweetly.
“I’ll give you some of mine in a saucer,” Stan replied.
Emile began to sob.
“Why Emile,whatever is wrong?”
“I want a cup and saucer just like you” the cat howled.
But you have no hands,Emile,” Stan reminded him.
The poor cat was crying loudly now.So Stan rang 999.
“Can you please send the emergency ambulance round.the cat’s crying and all his hankies are in the wash.”#
Soon Dave,the transvestite paramedic appeared.
“I love your light teal  and cream kitchen,” he informed Annie,
“And your eyes look like two deep pools in a coal mine.”
She slapped his cheek naughtily.
“Have a look at Emile” she ordered him sweetly.
He turned to the cat who was sitting on the dark pine table.
“Here,Emile,I got you some Kleenex for Cats in Sainsburys.” he said gaily.
“I want a real hanky,”cried Emile.Dave took a clean hanky from his own pocket and dried the cats tears.
“What made you cry.Are you feeling bad.”
“Yes,I want to go to Cafe Nero,” Emile mioawed.
“Who told you about that?”
“Another cat down the road has been and he said it’s lovely for people watching.”
“The town is not safe for cats like you,Emile.”
Dave urbanely replied,
“But when summer come I’ll take you to the out of town
Marks and Spencers.They have a cat’s coffee corner upstairs.”
“Wow,isn’t it amazing,”Stan wondered out loud.
So Dave poured out the coffee and they all sat down and
discussed Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein.
Ray has discovered that Wittgenstein liked cats but as he moved around quite a bit,he never owned his own though Elizabeth Anscombe let him play with her three cats now and then.
We may all be different but most of us value the love of a good cat.Even boiling their hankies and ironing them is very nice.We all have this problem though.
Where can a cat carry his own hanky?
Do cats need shoulder bags?
What would Wittgenstein say?

Well,not a  lot because his mind was on initially mathematics and logic and later on games like Scrabble,Dabble and Monotony.
(When he was dying he said
It’s been a wonderful life even though he was often suicidal .Two or three of his brothers did kill themselves as the father was over-dominating.And they were sensitive.)

Logic and marriage

Annie ran into Mary’s kitchen wearing a pale green coat and matching suede s oes
Oh,let me tell you my happy news,I am gettng married again
Is that why you are all dressed up?Why green?
Don’t be ridiculous,marriage needs organising
You mean the Ceremony?
Yes, and the meal
I think marriage itself needs organising.Who will pay the bills and bring in the coal?
Which side of the bed will you sleep on?
Oh, I must get larger bed,Annie realised thoughtfully
And who is to be your husband?
I’ve not decided yet,Annie admitted quietly
How many candidates are there for the position,Mary asked quizzically?
Well, the main one is Denis, the psychoanalyst across the road
I expect he already has a big bed..Mary joked knowingly
Yes,I spent a night or so with him and he has a memory foam mattress here.
I hope it doesn’t remember all the women he has slept with
Well, only if they slept there.They might have gone to an hotel or been in a caravan
at Southwold Harbour,Annie rambled on
They might have slept in a wood by a log fire or in a tent on the West Bank
So will he be faithful to you?
He’s already told me he adores me more than he knew possible
That will soon wear off when you live together
How cruel you are,Annie sighed ,like martyr waiting to be executed
Shall I make some tea for us both?
Yes and boil my hankies as well,Mary joked.
I shall boil your tongue if you keep teasing me!
They sat down near the window while the sun was setting in a wine coloured sky
I do like your outlook,Annie said
I thought it was Microsoft’s,Mary told her innocently
You silly idiot,I mean your view
I’ve never heard of YourView.Is it a new thing like Zoom? Mary asked nervously
I mean, this view here from your window at dusk
Wow,I am frightened how I assume everything I learn of is related to Modern Technology
Yeah, said Annie,I’ve done it too
You are both stupid,said Emile the resident cat
How rude.Why do you say that,Mary enquired boldly?
It’s the whole human race.All hooked on Skype or a Twatter
What’s a Twattter?
It’s someone who lives on Twitter
You won’t find a bird on Twitter.
So a bird can’t be a Twatter
That is correct.Aristotle would be pleased if he were here
Where is he?
In a book.

That is end of “Logic made simple” on BBC education

They miaow in Hebrew,Mary said loftily

Created with Nokia Smart Cam

  • Stan awoke feeling very thirsty.
    My, this bed is much too hard,he thought.
    He put out his hand and felt some wood not far away.It was his desk.Emile was lying on Stan’s stomach purring.
    You fell out of bed,the little cat miaowed.Luckily I clung on with my claws and I am ok sleeping down here….I can see mice better.
    Well,it’s not ok with me,Stan informed him gently.
    How can I get up from here?
    He picked up the Cambridge Companion to Sylvia Plath and banged on his desk softly.
    Mary was awake and heard a strange sound.She found Stan lying on the floor with his head by his desk.
    Emile wanted to sleep by the wall,you see.,he told her.
    Then he rolled over and I fell out.
    http://youtu.be/pT9CdnfFET8

    That is logically and scientifically mad,Mary told him.
    Surely Emile is not so big that his weight was enough to knock you out of the bed?
    It is against the law of gravityAnyway,why don’t you get up?
    I like it down here,the old man lied to her optimistically.
    Rubbish,Mary said,then she picked up the phone and rang 999.
    Hello,she said.My cat is very upset as he feels guilty for pushing my aged husband out of bed.
    How terrible for you,the man answered.I’ll send an ambulance right away.
    Mary opened the front door and left it unlatched whilst she lit the electric lights with a match.
    How do you feel now Stan,she enquired tying her red polyester fleece dressing gown a bit tighter before the paramedics arrival
    I am thirsty,give me some brandy,he ordered her politely as he was full of kindness
    They said not to let you or Emile drink or eat
    Blooming ridiculous,he told her in a manly fashion.
    Soon the ambulance arrived and the paramedics were running up the stairs to see the poor cat. Mary fainted so they laid her on the bed whilst they comforted Emile and cleaned his paws.Then they picked up Stan and laid him right next to Mary,his wife.
    Why don’t you have a bigger bed,one asked Stan.
    Bigger than what,he responded academically.
    Well,if you were any fatter you’d not be able to lie next to your wife.
    True,he replied but my wife is too large.I keep hoping she will lose weight.
    I shall make you some tea the female paramedic told them forcefully
    Well,you don’t seem to be hurt,the other one told Stan, but the cat may need therapy or counselling because of the guilt he will feel.
    He’s not a Catholic ,I hope?
    No, he’s Jewish,Stan shouted implausibly.
    That’s alright then.How do cats get to be Jewish anyhow?
    It’s their souls,Mary said…they are all waiting up there for a suitable place to be reborn and some choose to be cats.
    But how can you tell? he asked wonderingly.They have no prayer shawls
    They miaow in Hebrew,Mary said loftily.And they like to sing the psalms before bed.
    But how do you know it’s Hebrew,he replied.Do you speak it?
    No, it’s just he hates bacon and pepperoni and always wears a hat so it seems he must be one of Jesus’s friends,but not Judas of course.I suppose Jesus wore a hat but it’s never been found as yet.Not even being sold as a relic.

    .http://youtu.be/8SCorW9r_Is

    Well,that’s intriguing.Do you think Emile might be the Messiah?
    Oh,dear.We never thought of that.Will he have to go to Galilee and catch fish and walk on water?
    No, he can go to Rome and tell the Pope that the Church is not what God planned.
    I hope they don’t kill him,Mary cried sadly.
    God will not be very happy.
    I didn’t know God had moods,Stan said.
    He has post-creative depressive disorder….no wonder when we look round the world.
    Still they did try,I’ll say that for him or her.
    And so say all of us.
    For he’s a very good yeller,he’s a very good yeller
    A cat’s life is a fuss.Miaow.

Mary Adair 2 and the reading glasses

Instead of going to the pub to meet men,Mary went on FB and changed her name
Unfortunatly  her name was also changed on the Page where she was insulted  and every where she had been.
I have learned something useful, she said to Dave who had come because Emile had rung 999
Better if you had not visited their page,he told  her sensibly, then Emile would be happy
Yes, she said,each side is as bad as the other,You must either totally agree or be called a vicious Monster.There is no space for debate so why even try?
Just then the phone rang
Hello, it’s Noreen ,she heard
Mary, I am so happy you have changed your name
Are you,Mary asked in suprise
Yes,my grandparents were Scottish and  none of the relatives are left,
so as you are partly Scottish too it’s lovely you chose to emphasis that
Well, stone the crows,Mary thought.How unpredictable life is.And how one unexpected event  led to a   good talk with Noreen
Well, since Stan is not here,I’d better do some housework. she told Dave
On the other hand if Annie and  you,Dave, accept my untidiness, why  should i worry?
After all it’s wonderful finding books I had  forgotten I had.Not to mention 30 pairs of tights and my reading glasses
Emile looked at her turquoise glasses
Can I have some reading glasses Mother?
Why? demanded Mary angrily
Then they will read stories to me as they can already read
Mary wondered how to explain to a cat that  the lenses of humans’ eyes become less flexible with age like their minds, perhaps
Then she thought of Donald Trump who needs King Canute
to explain  that no human is omnipotent and that viruses are unable to distinguish between him and another  old person even Joe Biden
Why the family of the first virus might have relatives near Joe.
But how do viruses communicate?They  have no voices,eyes or hands
Might it be they live in another reality? Do they have minds withour having  brains?
Or brains without minds
Dave ran out of the house wondering how to help Mary
And so would all of us!

Mary meets her neighbours

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Sitting on the high backed,v Ercol sofa in the large sitting room of her new neighbours Tom an n jn n n nnnd Edina, Mary sipped at the PG Tips tea she had been given in a pseudo-art deco mug.The tea tasted pseudo as well!

Would you like some delicious cake,Mary? Edina asked her rather loudly
Mary jumped.
Oh excuse me, my nerves are all on edge, she cried.I’d love some home made cake
Edina took out a penknife and cut a slice of the large cake.Alas it was coffee flavoured and Mary was not fond of that.This was agony to her especially coffee flavoured butter cream filling as she liked all the other flavours..Suffering from this is a new psychiatric disorder called uncakeophilia disorder
Why are you using a penknife in here ,Tom asked his wife angrily.We have lots of kitchen knives and other silver ones
I found it on the floor,Edina said pensively
I don’t suppose you washed it, Tom answered wildly
Mary leaned back and shut her eyes for a moment.I hate noise, she thought.
No, dirt is good for the immune system, Edina murmured
What rubbish, you are so lazy I can’t believe it! her husband told her.
After 39 years you should be used to it,Edina told him sensibly.Who made all these new curtains and vacuumed the roof? she went on languidly
Did you vacuum the roof in your last house,Mary asked her?
We lived in a flat before so I never had to do it.
Well, it’s unnecessary,Mary said , why not learn Esperanto?
Where do people speak that?
I have no idea but it’s a language,Mary cried decisively
But can it really be a language if it’s not the native tongue of any country?,
Well Yiddish is a language yet few people speak it,Tom told them
It would be difficult for the dead to speak,Mary said in a sad voice
It used to be spoken by millions of people in Central and Eastern Europe.
Why didn’t Hitler teach them English,asked Edina?
You think he only hated their language,said Tom in surprise.I’ve never heard that before.
It is bloody ridiculous,Mary said in her soft yet vibrant voice…he didn’t kill them because of their language and they spoke German as well,Maybe even French,Polish and other tongues
Just then they heard a strange choking sound .It was Emile the talking tomcat trying to get out of Mary’s large plastic handbag
Good grief ,Tom shouted.Did we invite this cat? Does he drink tea from cups? Is he real?
Well, yes , I love tea, Emile mewed.And don’t shout at Mary like that!
I am not letting a cat order me about,Tom screamed like a lunatic
But it’s not nice for Mary.She is a highly sensitive person and I love her
Now, they tell us,Edina whispered.She is married to her cat
I didn’t hear you,Tom said,Is she harried ,did you say?
No I said married
But her husband is dead
Well, now she has taken the cat, for better or for worse.Edina said in a humorous yet angry manner.

For richer for poorer… a cat can’t earn a wage
Edina and Tom were shouting at each other not realising what impression they were making
Mary called out,
Why invite me to tea and shout like this?
Did you never shout at Stan?
No,I didn’t need to.He listened to me.
Well, you are very quiet, said Emile, so Stan had no fear you might shout
I might have shouted when I read Fermat’s Last Theorem.Mary admitted furtively
Was Fermat your teacher,Edina asked?
No he died a long while ago
Fancy dying and all you have to leave is a theorem
Well, it stops the family fighting,Mary said wisely
Suddenly the door opened and in flew Annie, the flame haired mistress of the late Stan
Why was I not invited to this tea party ,she asked rudely?Are we in Boston?
Sorry,dear,said Tom.Not many people like to come here because Edina has a bad temper
No I don’t she shouted.You have a bad temper
I get so tired of all these projective misperceptions,Emile said in his intelligent voice
My therapist was not a cat, but I kept projecting on to him and he looked just like a cat to me until he barked one day.He was in fact a dog.I realised
Was that the end of your therapy?
Yes, I stole all the money from Mary’s purse and there was none left.And I learned about projection, that was enough
Good heavens,Mary murmured.I thought Annie had taken the money
What!You thought I was a thief.Annie bawled What next?
Well, you’re more like a sister and I didn’t mind as I know it’s so demeaning to ask for money.
See, said Tom to Edina,I said you should not ask me for money after we make love
Why not, she enquired? I need some new art materials
Can’t you use the housekeeping money?
Well, if you are happy to starve,Edina said sarcastically
Don’t use sarcasm.Only prostitutes take money.,Tom added.I did say you can buy whatever you like in the way of clothes and so on on our credit card
How do you know it’s only whores? Many women do need the money as they may be single mothers trying to feel their family and not getting Universal Benefit on time,Edina told him But other women might demand jewellery, and expensive houses like Wallis Simpson
That’s a fair point,Tom muttered.It’s more complicated than I realised.
Money is a big problem in many marriages,Mary called
But I earned my own and Stan retired early and got a pension so I had no need to
beg him for money
But did he beg you,Edina asked?
No, we just kept in the bathroom under the soap.So it was clean.
I wonder if viruses can spread on money? Tom said
I feel sure it is possible but how would we test that out. his wife asked
Best to wear gloves but when you take them off the viruses might fly all over the place
I didn’t know they could fly, said Emile.Are they invisible?
Well, we don’t really know but people often get bad colds when they go on aeroplanes
Annie turned pale.
Are you ill, Annie? asked Tom
I am having a nervous breakdown.I’ve caught paranoia from a £5 note.
You can’t catch it,Mary said in her kind voice.It’s not a physical illness and they are plastic nowadays so they can be wiped down
Well where does madness come from? It is horrible feeling so anxious.
This is not much fun, said Edina.I thought it would be lovely meeting the neighbours but we go from tarts to paranoia and back.Is this wise?
They all sat looking glum,Then Annie revealed all
I am a Russian agent sent here by Putin.I befriended Mary on Putin’s orders
He must be stupid.Why spy on Knittingham?
Well, you will be surprised.Mary is an expert on differential operators
On bicycle chains, asked Tom?
How ignorant people are.Annie shouted.Did you never see anything odd about calculus and little things appearing and disappearing?
Well, to be frank, no!
I don’t believe we learned calculus said Edina
We learned quadratic quotations
Do you mean equations,Mary asked?
I don’t know what I mean,Edina said nervously
And neither do we, said the others
Calculus is a bit like the Mass.Important things happen but we can’t see them.Everything looks the same but it’s not
Then they heard a siren.In ran Dave, the heroic paramedic in his new pink dress. and coat
Don’t drop the bomb, he told Tom audaciously
I’m not President Trump,Tom informed him gravely
That’s what they all say,Dave said to Annie
Who can we trust
Just Emile,said Mary.And Annie.
Why don’t you trust me said Tom?
I am waiting to see how you behave,she replied
Like a kind of exam?
Yes, it’s called
Trust your neighbour and yourself? How to know the people who might be dangerous
to your life and mental health
There’s not much mental health in Britain now,said Tom.I’m a doctor!
Well, don’t shout at the patients, said Annie
I only shout at home,
That is horrible, surely those you love need kindness?
Tom burst into tears and Emile lent him his hanky
I don’t think we’ll meet any more of the neighbours Edina said
Enough is enough.Kindly go home
Pleased to meet you, said Dave.Do call me when you need coal bringing in or have a heart attack
No way,thought Tom as he drank a bottle of brandy in the bathroom
I feel we made a mistake… we will have to move as soon as we can

And so say all of us

Mary needs a lock on the door

The doorbell rang yet again.Mary crept into the hall and saw through the  little window  a young man with a van marked Maypole Locksmiths.She opened the door and explained she could not lock her door with a key but only with a  twig from the maple tree.In winter it was not sensible
The man who had looked rather glum brightened up
So where did you buy this lock? he asked humorously
I have no idea
Up ran Annie her late husband’s mistress who  still  lived next door.She was wearing  a lime green faux fur coat over a  purple track suit.The locksmith’s eyes rotated in fear
My husband made that lock from a teak bread  board,just before he eloped, she told them
Well ladies,I have news for you
Mary plucked at  the darning on her wool skirt,looking agitated
Doors are  wood but locks are metal and have metal keys,he informed them
Goodness me,  we are still in the Dark Ages, she cried nervelessly
Yes, the days are short in winter he whispered.My name is Jack by the way
I don’t want any more men,she murmured mutinously
Why, how many have you got? he inquired tenderly with a hint of laughter.
I am not sure but it is not a rational number,Mary declaimed
But what IS a rational number,Annie asked? Three,four,ten, a thousand?
It is zero but I am happy with a ball of wool and Emile, my sweet cat
Miaow,cried Emile
Up the path ran Dave, the transphobic ,asexual paramedic
Emile, are you ok? he muttered in Welsh
Well,I could just  eat tin of salmon, Emile muttered, but we have none
That is a tragedy.I’ll get you some for Xmas
We usually have meat,Mary  told him, but I don’t mind.I hate roasting turkeys.What  have turkeys done to deserve that fate? I’d prefer t adopt some
No, cried Emile.I don’t want any here.
So selfish, said Annie.They are  alive just like we are.
I don’t  give a fig,  the cat boasted
I know a lot of turkeys have died in  refrigerated lorries crossing the channel
But it’s horrible here.I don’t see why a turkey would want to live here,Annie replied
They want  to see Buckingham Palace,I expect and get given free cars  like all our immigrants are given, said Emile.Not to mention free flats in tower blocks covered in asbestos and lead
I’ll  have to change your name to Oswald,Mary said
That is insulting,I am only saying what all the people are saying.Mosley was a an aristocrat,I believe
I am very sad we taught Emile to read and speak.He is getting his news from Facebook, the Mail on Mondays and gossip.
Yes,Stan was a fool.He should have left him like a wild animal.Do you know he watched Stan and me in bed through a mirror
Well,I hope  he didn’t watch me,said Mary.I have to put Nerisone oily
cream on my private parts if I have a flare up but to a cat it might look suspiciously like
self pleasure
Well, why not enjoy it since you have to use it?
Very wise,Mary replied.I’ll have to think abut  that
The locksmith coughed
Madam shall I put this brass lock on the door and a handle so you can pull the door shut more easily
You are very clever,Mary said thoughtlessly.But don’t do a degree.Many minds  have been ruined by studying Rousseau one week , Bertrand Russell the next and Wittgenstein in 10 days.It only makes people seem educated because they now words other people don’t but  wisdom and thought have not  entered their being
I’ll make us all a nice cup of tea, Annie shouted.That will enter all our beings
I thought you’d never ask, cried Dave
And so did all of us

He said I can keep the box

Mary was in the teal coloured kitchen of her almost detached house making a jam sponge pudding when the doorbell rang.She wiped her hands on her new purple trousers because she didn’t want to dirty a clean towel.
She found her colleague Dr Rosa Benchez standing nervously outside shivering
Come in , Mary cried.

Would you like a cup of tea? You need to sit by the fire and get warmer
I’d love that, Rosa said politely but distantly
A few minutes later they were sitting looking out of the bay window watching a blackbird sitting on the fence;they hoped it would start to sing
May I talk to you,Mary? I have got rather more agitated than ever before

.I am wondering if I need counselling or maybe shooting, she joked morosely
OK,said Mary cautiously.Has anything unusual happened ?
Yes, my sister has had her driving license taken away because of big panic attacks she had crossing the Humber Bridge …. you know how huge it is.She got out of the car and screamed,Help! Help!
That was dangerous with so much traffic about
She is furious and says we live in a Nazi state and is writing to the Times
Well, it can happen that you lose your licence,Mary said,but when she has learned to deal with the attacks she can re-apply and get her license back.Simple things like not eating and being tired can bring that on so I have heard.And fear of fear, too.
As well as that,Rosa said,my son has got a recurrence of cancer and is going onto some new drug-type chemo.My ex husband is very distressed and so am I as it was unexpected.
And even worse my new fiance Prof. Charlie Blogge has broken off our engagement with no reason.I can’t think of any at all.Shall I ever trust a man again?
He said I can keep the ring which is a blue sapphire ,supposedly, but when I had it valued they said I was mistaken and you can buy them on amazon for £57 and less.
So she took off the ring and hurled it into Mary’s coal fire where it looked very nice as it got hotter and hotter glowing like a lighthouse off Portland Bill in a sea storm or a banger about to explode

Good grief, said Mary.No wonder you are agitated.We may have to phone Dave the bisexual lovable paramedic available on the NHS 24 hours a day.Or we could have our hair permed and dyed red instead, she murmured to herself
Which of these events bothers you most,Rosa? She continued gently while hoping she would cope.
It is my own feelings that worry me most.I wake up feeling very sad and nervous;I wonder if I am having a breakdown.Then I feel worse as I turn it over in my mind trying to decide what to do.Then I get up and get food into me and think it all over and over again while drinking my tea.
Well, you know it is normal to feel sad, anxious or distraught when bad things happen,Mary told her.
But most people look happy when I see them in the town , Rosa shouted angrily
That is because being outside they put on a mask.They could be feeling worse than you.Anyway, why bother about that? We are all different.Some people think I am very calm but they don’t see me when I’m not.I go stiff like a piece of wood.Then I pass out
So what do you do? Rosa asked her nervously,twirling a golden ringlet around her finger as she watched her engagement ring melt in the fire.
I don’t do anything,Mary said.This is one of the fundamental errors in our society that action is needed for so many things and especially for negative feelings.But it’s usually part of life.Things pass.
I pretend I have a big round box inside me and I let the anxiety live in there nice and cosy until my mind has absorbed and dealt with the pain.Once my box was quite small but it has grown bigger now and so it has room for mad or bad feelings.I do little tasks and listen to music.
Then if I feel really bad I listen to Leonard Cohen and tell myself, he had it worse.But he made money out of it! Not that you can make money out of yours. though it’s worth musing about
Well,Rosa replied.Thank you,Mary.I am glad I am not the only one who feels so anxious sometimes.I shall try to get a box like yours.
You are welcome,said Mary jovially.Come round on Sunday for tea.Emile is out hunting but he loves to see you and so do I
The women hugged cautiously and Rosa went out looking less cold and nervous as she bravely carried her box away .It was invisible to the people walking nearby

Perhaps I’ll call the cat Tamara Jane

We fell into a rhythm as we walked
Arm in arm we wandered as we talked
We looked into folks’ windows  as dusk came
Tried to guess their furnishings and names

Some had nothing but the ironing stacked
Others  had the furniture we lacked
I bought a chest of drawers for three pounds
We had a double bed where our cat lounged

I bought a little table made of oak
Fifty pence at auction, go for broke!
A few old armchairs covered in green cloth
Too severe to be a home  for moths

Now I look at pictures on the walls
I see the sun turn mauve as down dusk falls
Images both simple and  robust
One a choice the other  nature’s lust

I see my sofa like a treasure ship
I lie upon  it dreaming  humorous quips
I  dream of journeys on the little train
That signifies  what sleep means to my brain

The rocking chair is empty of the cat
I see one in my garden, not my lap.
I try to tame this immigrant  I like
I shall give him food and call him Mike.

Oh,dear that is my brother, will he mind?
I know he loves the birds, and cats do bite
He is not living here in my old road
Otherwise he’ll hear me shouting “Claude”

Perhaps I’ll call the cat Tamara Jane
In case they’re very sensitive to names
For I know not the gender of the beast
They may be quite fluid  at the least

Now my husband cannot calm me down
I’d like his verdict on my new nightgown
But all I can remember is that rhythm
I fell into walking  out  with him

Cleethorpes or the Bookshop

Mary was  wearing her pink and red glasses while reading a blog  on Simone Weil,the French mystic.Mary knew her brother Andre was a mathematician.Is that a form of mysticism? And is mysticism   of any value? There’s more value in  helping a neighbour than in mystic bliss.
Annie ran in carrying a green  bucket and  blue spade  in a plastic bag
I’m going to Cleethorpes for a day trip . she cried cheerfully
I don’t think so,Mary said while mentally assessing Annie’s outfit of  imitation leopardskin  leggings covered  in part by a guava coloured tunic which matched her trainers very well.The whole topped by a down coat in pink and purple stripes which she got in a sale online in the  summer

Do you think leopardskin  is suitable for a beach?You might want a donkey ride
The  donkey won’t know the pattern, Annie said.sincerely yet uncaringly.Indeed some may say she was rude to the point of  a dagger

Her full lips pouted ,showing off her coral lipstick and matching eyeshadow from Gillete  of Rochdale and Hebden Bridge not far from  Sylvia Plath’s grave.Oh,my.
Her foundation cream was not unlike that of Donald Trump which Mary had not mentioned, unwilling to shatter Annie’s dreams of wondrous love in waiting.
Although in would have made more sense to tell her  to dress  with more dignity and charm if she wanted a man

.With modern fashion it’s hard to know what will attract people.
Who’d have thought leggings and bikini tops would be worn to go shopping?
Pyjamas seem popular too.
Why don’t we go to Hebden Bridge?
With all these storms its been under water for weeks
Oh,blagger, there’s always some problem
Well, we are getting older and I don’t want to die in Hebden Bridge by drowning
So where would you like?
Dundee.They make nice cake
You won’t need cake where you will be going
Actually I am going to the Diabetic Clinic
You never said you were diabetic
Annd you never said you had 33 teeth.
Well,I am a  Viking
That’s no excuse
I can’t alter my genes
What are they ,little patterns?
To be honest ,I don’t really know
Let’s go to Waterstone’s  and buy Hilary Mantel’s new book.
It is very heavy
But if we are put in quarantine we will be able to read it
I’ll plant some tomato seeds in a carton of  compost
Why not? I might grow some herbs

And so will all of us.

Mary sees the rheumatologist

First posted on July 29, 2019

Mary went to the hospital to see the rheumatologist.The entire hospital had been re-built and half the site wasnow full of so called “Executive Homes”
She and Annie took a cab as it was raining hard.Although Mary was wearing her new green raincoat, she did not like to get it wet.
Where did you buy your mac,Annie enquired jauntily?
Cotton Traders,Mary admitted nervously.It looked lighter than it is and Stan liked me in green
You already have two trenchoats and a nylon mac,Annie told her.
And Stan is no longer here
What’s it to you? you want me to give all my money to the poor?
Well, some of it,Annie responded anxiously.You need to pay your utilities.

My utilities!That sounds like something sexual that cannot be openly named,Mary cried
You are confusing it with urethra, Annie laughed
What is my ethra? whispered Mary
No, the urethra is a little tube for the bladder to empty itself through
Isn’t the human body amazing? Mary acknowledged using a cliche for better effect
Definitely, said Annie and I love wearing beautiful clothes like velvet
Where do we draw the line though, between looking good and giving money to the poor, tortured or victimised,Mary pondered

It is hard now because we can see what the rich have and we want it.Annie shouted calmly
Or in your case you can see all those philosophy books on Amazon and buy them with one click she continued.
Mary could see in her mind’s eye her living room piled high with books but if she were rich like Michael Frayn she could have a huge house full of shelves and desks.
Adam Phillips,’ room looked more full than Mary’s and he must want it like that as he is well off.

In the waiting room Mary looked at Wittgenstein’s biography by Ray Monk on her kindle while Annie read The Sun.
Soon Mary was called in
Hello, said Doctor Morse.How are you?
In the pink , she cried shyly.
I don’t understand that, he said in his kindly way
It’s an old English saying.It means I feel fine, but I don’t really that’s why I am here
He looked at her left hand. and said there was no cartilege between the the thumb and wrist.
Where has it gone,Mary asked but he remained silent
Then he said,I think steroid injections will help.Would you turn your chair round by 180 degrees so you can put your arm on my desk?
Mary turned round and felt a bit dizzy
It’s hard getting older isn’t it, the doctor said in a tone rather artificially kind like a bad actor on stage and afraid of forgetting his lines or whether he was in King Lear or a Comedy
Mary burst out laughing, to her surprise.
You are a weird person, the told her thoughtfully with his green eyes shining like the sun over Lake Windermere in October.
Well, we can’t all be exactly the same ,she told him logically
Then she had to turn her chair round again. despite her poor hands
Why don’t you have swivelling chairs ,she asked pointedly
They won’t give me enough money, they doctor said, even though I a Consultant and I have published lots of papers
Can’t you buy a second hand chair? Mary wondered
No, it has to pass Health and Safety,Dr Morse whispered cautiously
I see.Well don’t blame it all on the EU.
I love the EU, he told her.I hope Brexit evaporates
Me too she croaked sweetly
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes until his next patient arrived
I will see you in September, he told her optimistically his smile making her giggle inside so her body shivered with suppressed laughter or terror.

Miaow, cried Emile from Mary’s designer handbag
What in Gd’s name is that, the doctor asked nervously

Don’t worry doctor.I forgot to leave Emile in the Waiting Room
Emile stuck out his head and smiled at Dr Morse
Good morning, he said graciously.Is Dave the paramedic here?
No, they are not here they have their own Ambulance Station down the road
Emile began to sob as he liked to get his own way by any means he could
Mary apologised as she shook hands with the doctor.
Thank you for helping me, she murmured.I feel better already
And so say all of

To find a  hole, an absence and a dread

When I am happier than I am today
I seem to feel your presence and your gaze
But now I turn to where you sat and read
To find a  hole, an absence and  a dread

A lack  of energy,  a grey fatigue
A feeling that my heart unholy bleeds
Gives me no new  vibrance nor new look
I feel as dead as an old library book

Alas  I woke   one happy day to joy
Then off  it rode like an unstable boy
And when the doom descended then I cursed
For that  brief joy made my dumb dark heart  feel worse

If I could live like butterflies all bright
I should  have  my days of sun and light

Stan wears a nightdress in the heat

Photo0426

Alfred my old cat

The weather in Knittingham was rather hot.Mary was away giving a lecture on Dirac’s thoughts  in Oxford and Stan felt lonely.He rang Annie but she was out.
So he said to Emile
I am going to bed early.Have you had enough to eat?
Definitely,cried Emile,who had just licked all the cream off two meringues in the larder.So Stan went upstairs.He took off all his clothes and admired his thin body in the mirror.
Not bad for 97,he muttered.
Now what shall I put on?
He found his pyjamas too hot so on an impulse he opened Mary’s wardrobe and found a cotton nightdress.It was a bit big for him but definitely cooler than  his pyjamas.He cleaned his teeth and washed himself before falling into bed with,The Other Ariel a book about Sylvia Plath’s poetry and how Ted Hughes had altered the order of her poems and even removed some from the book .Ariel,which made her name.The doorbell rang.Each time it played a different tune out of the 90 in its repertoire.
He  ran downstairs and opened the door.There stood two policemen.
They stared a the handsome old man with elegant hands
Hello.Sir.I hope we have not interrupted you?
No,I am just reading in bed. on my own
Do you always wear a nightgown?
This is the first time,he told them humorously.
I felt very hot so I decided to wear my wife’s gown.
And just  where is your wife?
What’s it got to do with you,he enquired  unceremoniously.
Just tell us,the older policeman said brusquely
She’s at a conference in Oxford giving a talk.About Dirac or Riemann or another nitwit.
Can we come in? the policeman said.
May we come in,Stan corrected him;not a good idea on the whole,especially in the USA where the police have guns.Luckily all  our police have  here are rubber gloves in case people ask them to wash up after having a  cup of tea.
What is wrong? said Stan.
We have found a naked woman walking  in the High Street.She says a man stole her clothes.For various reasons we think it might be you.
But  if she was in the High Street she’d  be in proper clothes not a nightdress,surely ,Stan  murmured.
But you like women’s clothes….. we can see.
No,I don’t,  the old man shouted.
I told you I was too hot.And in my own home I can wear anything I like.
Sometimes I wear a  prayer shawl
Are you Jewish? they asked.
Only a little, but I inherited it from a great grandfather who married out.
Out of what? the police asked
He married out of his faith.He was longing  for a bacon sandwich.
Surely marrying  just to eat a bacon sandwich is a bit over the top.
Well,that was his story.Maybe he was tired of obeying the Ten Commandments so he broke most of them.
Which ones?
He committed adultery once when his wife had a nervous breakdown ; he lost his head and went to bed with his neighbour’s wife.
And  where was his neighbour?
At the psychiatric unit visiting my great grandmother.Stan admitted uneasily.
Well,at such times we all do odd things,the  older policeman  advised him.
Thank you for your frankness,Sir.I can see you are not a criminal.
Thank the Lord,said Stan as he went into the kitchen and put the kettle on to make a cup of tea to save ringing 999
I am lucky not to be in a cell and Mary would have had to come home.She would have been cross, he told Emile.Anyway monks wear habits.
But who had stolen the clothes off the woman in town? A mystery  to be studied with Annie when she got home.
At last Stan relaxed and went back to bed with  his books
This is the last time I  ever wear a nightdress he whispered to Emile who was  by his side.
And so hope all of us.

Round the bend

The Wash, Lincolnshire, England | Images of england, Lincolnshire, England




Oh,Mary is in horrid pain
It’s her sciatica again.
No pills can cure but nettles might
She will roll in them tonight
Emile is aware of this
He gives her a loving kiss

Emile, I’ve told you it’s not done
To kiss your mother though in fun
What would Stan think,were he here
Drinking from a can of beer?
What would Annie think of this?
Go, give her a big wet kiss

Oh,mother I might bite her lip
As my teeth are made to nip
Take my emery board and smooth
Your pointed teeth and any grooves
Can I use Stan’s old toothbrush
No, I threw it in the Wash

Maybe seals will use it there
Send them combs and do not swear
I did not mean to curse again
My back is aching,I’ve no pluck
Mother, dearest, don’t say fuck

Well, that’s Irish, it’s ok
The Catholics wlil offer prayers
I pray too for all my friends
Those bereaved or round the bend
Do you mean those who see ghosts ?
Maybe it’s the heavenly Host

As long as you look clean and neat
Noone will see your hooves or feet
Noone will know you see and hear
Emissaries from other spheres.
Don’t meet eyes nor stare at men
And always write with a good pen

You may be in another realm
Dave can see you’r overwhelmed
He will pat your head this day
For this he gets his kicks and pay
When you feel yourself again
See it you can spot old Stan

Where is Annie,Mary’s friend?
Where the Spirit which descends
Where are our neighbours whom we love?
Singing with the turtle dove
All the Saints will chant along
As Jesus sings his ancient songs

Spirits rise and Love is here
Drinking in the atmosphere

Buying the blue coat

In the year 1989 I learnt that one of my students a young woman called Heather who was married to another student was diagnosed with cancer of the bone.. she had told me in the summer term that she had a pain in her thigh.

I think I may have told them if I had surgery on my foot in 19 78 for a tumour between the bones

When we started the autumn term Heather told me that she has cancer and she was going to the Royal Marsden hospital for treatment that was the end of September l

ByChristmas time Heather has died leaving a young husband devastated

Before she got so much worse I went to see her in her flat on about the 20th floor of a tower block.

She was sitting at the table Open in front of her a text book and she show me that she waskeeping up even though she could not come to the classes.

When I was coming back from seeing heather the last time I went into Marks and Spencer’s and bought a blue coat.

I had the urge to take something in because I was going to lose someone.

It would have been more rational to give the money to Jeather who was very poor or to donate to an appropriate charity.

I remember after leaving Heather’s tower block I had to walk along the street in a very rough area and young men were swearing at me even though tears were running down my face like rain.

But Heather had never complained about that. But I realise why she had bought a dog

If I had not bought the blue coat I suppose I would have forgotten about it but we don’t know do we ?

Teach me how to cry

Daddy, how we missed you when you died
None had understood but one of five.
Come back,Daddy,miss your sunny eyes

I imagined we must never cry
When the cancer took your life
Poor Daddy, how you suffered,then you died

When you wanted company, I tried
I was too articulate for my age
Come back,Daddy,miss my Daddy’s eyes

By the flower beds, you wanted a guide
You wanted me to talk.I really tried.
Daddy we fell down a hole, why did you just die?

You slept all alone when pain arrived
We girls slept with mammy, on your side
Come back,Daddy, don’t you miss our eyes?

I always hum like you did, though I’m shy
You are singing through me, close and wise
Daddy, we have missed you all our lives
Come back,Daddy, teach me how to cry.

Stan gets engaged to Emile

Stan fell asleep in front of the roaring fire.Emile lay across his lap.Emile was so limp he looked like a wet towel slung casually over the old man’s knees.It was Stan’s birthday but no party had been arranged.He was struck that Mary had not baked a cake..nor even bought one at the Co-op.

That was no surprise really as he did all the cooking including Bakewell tarts and Xmas cake,He was a versatile man who could also mend old radios and fix clocks that were stuck one time….usually the wrong one!
He also spent quite a lot of time giving statistics lessons to pensioners and kissing his blonde  mistress,Anne who lived next door.
He decided that being so near her was a big advantage given his age.
Suddenly he was awakened by chuckles and giggles,There were Mary and Anne holding a big iced cake and a pot of tea.The doorbell rang and in came all Stan’s friends from his Art class.Mary produced sandwiches and pork pies,sausage rolls and potato cakes.
How did you do this,he enquired dazedly?
We did it all in Anne’s oven.She has two so it was quite easy.
Mary was not jealous of Anne for Mary would rather read Principia Mathematica than go to bed with Stan.Apparently she was mildly autistic but she was happy doing maths as many of her co-workers had the same syndrome.
She did have one daughter whom she found hidden in a gooseberry bush in the garden.This was enough for Stan as he was 92.But luckily he did have a good gold plated pension of £390.09 per month.
Everyone was having a fabulous time until Anne tried to light the candles on the cake.No matches could be found.
Ring 999,Stan called childishly.Mary obeyed and soon the ambulance drew up.
In ran Dave the   trisexual paramedic.
Is it your chair? he enquired wildly.
No,it’s this cake.We can’t light the candles on it.Shall we douse it in petrol? We have a jerry can full of it in the spare room.
That is very dangerous,he shouted.
Well,we are old now and need the car badly.Risk assessment gave us evens on the odds.
Dave produced a silver lighter and lit the candles.Then he conducted them all as they sang,
”Happy Birthday” to Stan.Stan managed to blow out 90 candles before passing out on the rug.
Well,at least he didn’t break the chair,Mary said philosophically.
I wish he had,said Dave. I’ve got some superglue here.
Well,we do have a wardrobe that’s falling apart.would you like to mend it?
Sure ,he replied gratefully.This is why we have the NHS!
We are here for you 24/7
Or come to A and E if you get a mouth ulcer or a cold sore.No problem is too small!

Stan came to on the rug with Emile beside him.He gazed deeply into the cat’s green eyes.
I think I’ve fallen in love with you,he informed the Emile.
Will you sleep with me and let Mary have your basket.
Are we engaged,said Emile.
Definitely,said Stan.I’ll get you a golden collar with diamonds on it.
When shall we be married?
As soon as it’s legal,Stan answered honestly.
In the meantime,we’ll have to live in sin.
Then he fell asleep again with Emile in his arms.
What a lovely picture, cried the ladies.
Look at this.What a happy sight.
What love,what devotion.
How strange,what a commotion.
They’re in love,what emotion.
Don’t tell the Pope,we need caution

Where is Adultery?



Mary was sitting at her desk trying to decide whether to throw out a book called Schrodinger ‘s equation for idiots.The title had more than one meaning, she thought to herself.
I think that is for the recycling bin, she told her cat, Emile.What a pity you can’t read.You could have read it.
I don’t want to read stuff like that.I only like Dad’s cartoon books.
Where are they, Mary asked him, her eyes shining like melting Danish butter on a hot croissant?
They are in that plastic box in the kitchen, Emile told her.I read them at night.
How can you read if there is no light?Please don’t start sinning as I don’t want you to have to become a Catholic.
I can’t become a Catholic, said Emile.I am Jewish.
Well, St Paul was Jewish, Mary told him.Until he had an epileptic fit .
So having a fit can make you a Christian.That is very strange, the black cat told her with a twinkle in his eyes
Well, it’s not automatic, Mary replied.You have to pay
.What, pay to become a Christian, I don’t believe Jesus would like that.
Well , he may be quite indulgent, sometimes Mary giggled.However, the Vatican and its wealth might not be quite what he was thinking of when he gave the Sermon on the Mount.
What sort of mount was it , Emile enquired.Was it a horse?
No, it was more likely to have been a donkey as he was poor, you know
But he had things money can’t buy, the cat said philosophically.Like women who poured oil over his feet.What sort was it,?Was it like that stuff Stan put in the car engine sometimes?
Don’t be so ridiculous.It was olive oil, Mary told him
Can we prove that, Emile murmured? His feet were no salad
No, I am using inductive reasoningMary stated logically.Olive trees are grown in that part of the world even now.
What is inductive reasoning, Emile mewed
Why it’s the opposite of deductive reasoning, of course, Mary stated flatly
I am glad I can’t read, Emile said.
It’s bad for you to have to learn all of that.It was ok for the ancient Greeks.They had no televisions.I’d rather watch Andrea Bocelli and Hayley Westenra singing Vivo per lei.Whatever that means.She is from New Zealand by the way.
What difference does that make Mary teased him?
No need to be rude, Emile cried.I was only passing a remark
That was what Stan’s mother used to say when he told her off for saying my maple mousse was like something out of a tin.
Where was it from?The Joy of Cookery. a big American cook book or maybe Jewish Cookery by Florence Greenberg or Marks and Spencers
Did you get that book because I am Jewish, Emile purred?
No, I didn’t even know you were.How did it happen?
My mother was living with a Rabbi in Liverpool and he told her she could not miaow on the Sabbath so she kind of assumed she was Jewish.As for my father.. nobody knows.
Emile, don’t start saying you are the Messiah.I have enough trouble already.I don’t want you to be walking on water and helping women taken in adulteryI
was not me who took them, said Emile.I don’t even know where Adultery is.
I think I’ll ring 999.We need help before we go mad.
Sometimes going mad seems the better option, Mary said sadly.A few voices telling me what to do might be helpfulAs long as they are not Michael Grove and Horace Watson, Emile replied. And so say all of us

Emile and Smokey

Annie went into Mary’s kitchen to look at her new  grey kitten
Will Emile not be jealous of Smokey,she asked nervously?
No, he says he’d like to pass on his knowledge to  other cats,Mary sighed
What knowledge? Annie said intrusively?
Well, how to get on with me  like Stan,Mary murmured
Surely all  men are different,Annie said thoughtfully?
I suppose so, but they do have somethings in common,Mary rambled on
Such as?
I’ll have to be careful or I will be hounded by  the politically fairly correct,said poor Mary
How can you be fairly correct? Annie enquired
It’s like fuzzy logic….. a thing is no longer right or wrong, true or false,and so on
It’s a many valued logic,Mary said in her peculiar  manner ;  very rapid speaking  combining  a Northern accent with the vocabulary of a scientist thus rendering her unfit to read the Newsfor the BBC,ITV Israel, Al Jazeera
or indeed any  TV service anywhere at all especially  China.
I suppose in reality few things are just black or white , remarked Stan jovially.
I have made a cake he announced proudly
What sort, shouted Annie hungrily?
A chocolate cake.I  made icing by melting a bar of chocolate in a pan with some buttera
then it spreads easily.
So does my waist, said Mary.I used to be almost flat  but now I am 3 dimension.I know I was too thin but now I am obese
So it’s not just your waist,said Annie.
Oh,give over.Stop me feeling worse
Well, you look ok to  me, said Stan.I am proud to be your husband
And I am proud to be your mistress, Annie said to Stan
Surely you should not say that in front of me, Mary said
But you know,Annie said in a matter of fact manner,  her eyes gleaming with blue and gold eye shadow and green mascara
It’s one thing knowing something, another hearing it said  out loud,Mary told her sharply
So, if we don’t believe in God, we should not say so and visa versa.Annie added
My goodness Annie, your IQ is rising like bread in a hot oven,Mary exclaimed
On the whole it’s better to keep quiet and only tell people something if it is essential.
Stan’s brother was in South Africa, they say he was in the ANC
What is an ANC, a mental health unit?
Anxiety Not Conversation
Angst Never Converts
Anguished No Clue
Anxiety Not Condemned
Anguish Now Cool
It was a political movement to get rights for the black people in South Africa
Was Stan’s brother black?
Possibly but he died long ago.
Stan, was your brother black?
No, he was just a priest from England who got sent out there to  teach black students in the apartheid era,
Wow, why did you not tell us,asked Annie
As I said before, do you need to know?
No, but it’s interesting, she said
You should do something useful instead of gossiping,Stan cried
Annie hit him with a big umbrella which, alas, knocked him out
Oh,no, said Emile, how can I look after Smokey when  I will have to ring 999?
I shall call them, said Mary, and get the police here to arrest Annie
Stan jumped up.
I was not unconcious he said.Not totally, but don’t do it again as it is common assault
The doorbell rang and in ran  dear Dave, the transgender  gay and well dressed paramedic
We’ve not even phoned 999, said Emile
Dave cried,I just knew something was wrong
Well,Emile said,I am taking Smokey upstairs.And we will have a good sleep
Maybe you should all do the same
And so say all of us

o

 

Mary’s dreams

For my brother,Mike
P1000310

Mary dreamed she was riding her bicycle.She was going up a hill and then approaching a very complicated roundabout.
How can I look at the map when I am riding my bike,she asked herself.

Anyway, I don’t have a map and I’ve never been here before.She looked down and saw she was wearing some dark blue denim culottes and red suede knee high boots with laces.
I don’t remember buying these,she thought.She felt quite hot even though she wore only an olive needle-cord coat over a Breton T shirt.
Goodness me, she cried.I look smart.
Her spectacles clouded over as she was sweating.How will I know where to turn off when I don’t know where I am or where I am going to.
When she woke up she filled Stan’s beer tankard with tea.
What a lot of tea,miaowed Emile.
I thought it saves carrying the tea pot. I’m going to go back to bed as I feel a bit peculiar.
You have got a fleece nightgown on.Maybe you are too hot,he replied.
I am trying to save money on the heating,Mary answered.I see I can save even more money by buying 2 pairs of Hotters sandals for £97.Usually they are £127.
That saves £30,the clever animal informed her.
I think it’s quite misleading,Mary answered .It only saves money if you were already planning to buy them.I have such strange feet I don’t like to bare them.
Do you wear shoes in bed with a boyfriend.Emile asked.
I’ve not got a boyfriend.Emile.
But if you did?
Well.you know, an older man might not wish to go to bed with me.He might like just sitting on the sofa holding my hand and kissing me.
OK said ,Emile.It sounds a trifle boring to me.
Don’t be so cheeky, Emile.Talking to me is not boring.
No, he said, but it’s nice running up and down your legs in bed.
I could hardly expect a man to do that.He might injure me.
It was just a kind of example,he replied nervously.
Suddenly the back door opened and in ran Annie from next door.She was wearing a mustard coloured track suit and orange trainers with matching lip gloss.
What a horrible colour,Mary cried.
It’s the in colour now,Annie said kindly.I am getting my hair dyed too.
Bright yellow is better,Mary told her.Except it attracts insects.
Insects,I don’t want those.How are you,dear.You look flushed, she responded emotionally.
No wonder. I’ve been cycling all night in my dreams.Why can’t I dream of motor bikes?
Don’t ask me,Annie told her.I am utterly ignorant.Do you need therapy?
I don’t think so,Mary answered.I need to know where I am going.Do I decide or is it my Inner Wisdom or Higher Power.I could use higher power on that bike.
Just take it one rotation at a time, Annie murmured.
I thought it was one step.Mary answered
You can’t take a step on a bike.
I suppose not.But I could ride up a step on the bike.
Don’t ride up a step ladder,Anne advised.How would you get down again?
Let’s have some coffee,Mary cried.Here we are ,the kettle is boiling.
Let’s just sit and brood.
But don’t ruminate,purred Emile.It makes you ill.
Just let your mind go blank.
And so I did.

Stan,Emile and the bath

    • Stan was leaning over, cleaning the new bath.When the doorbell rang,he rushed downstairs and opened the double front door.
      “Will you take this parcel in for the lady next door?” The postman asked wearily.
      “Oh,fine Stan stuttered.He was trying to avoid Annie but here she was,coming down the road of superior semi detached houses suitable for ex-headmasters ,small businessmen,econometricians,surgeons,pie salesmen and theologians.

      She was wearing perfume, and green sandals from TK Maxx,light khaki tencel cropped combat trousers with a purple silky over-blouse, not to mention her matching raspberry and cream underwear .Round her neck hung a miniature grandfather clock on a solid gold chain,and she had three imitation gold and silver watches on each of her three wrists making a total of 333 watches according to Carnap’s theory of logic and Russell’s terrible handwriting.

      Stanley didn’t know that she had a mobile phone stuffed into her bra—one advantage for the larger sized woman.In fact she had 4 down there in her raspberry coloured glamour bra,as she had a phobia about their batteries running down all at once
      The more she had the lower the probability of her being without a phone whilst out and about the town and countryside.
      So she reasoned in her womanly way. J
      ust then one phone rang.She rummaged around to the consternation and turmoil-uation of Stanley and the postman.She plucked out a pale blue phone.
      “Hi,it’s Annie” she murmured.
      “Hi Annie it’s Dave the paramedic with carpentry skills. You’ve not rung 999 lately so we were wondering if all was well!”
      “Oh,I’m terribly sorry.I’ll try to phone later on.Thanks,Petal.
      That was Dave,our ex-transvestite converted paramedic”,she informed the men.The postman galloped off on his donkey, his bags full of undelivered males.
      It’s a tough but interesting life in Knittingham. Would you like a male delivery?Contact Parcel Force without delay.
      Annie went into Stan’s house and demanded a cup of coffee.
      “Won’t it make you put weight on” Stan quipped ironically.
      “Do you think I’m too plump?” she responded anxiously..
      “Too plump for what?” he quipped amiably.
      “To attract men,of course!”
      “No,my angel,you are just perfect”he quacked definitively.”Nor are you an angel,strictly speaking,as I have good reason to know.Thank you,my beloved for love rendered so generously .”
      “Oh,my goodness I must get home to render the fat from the beef and to make some gooseberry jam.”
      Stanley looked uneasy.
      “I wonder why babies are left under gooseberry bushes?
      The thorns are so big it’s quite dangerous getting them out,or so Mary told me when Lyra was born. She was covered in scratches and wouldn’t come near me for months.”
      “Why don’t you come upstairs to look at our new purple bathroom suite.Since the Royal Wedding it’s the in colour.The gold taps were expensive but they do go well.”
      “My God,let me out.” she bawled,”It reminds me of the Vatican and that’s no place for a lady”,
      “Not even a gay lady?” Stan muttered parsimoniously, as he licked her eyelashes gently.
      “Stop that.I’ve got my Yves St Laurent mascara on.”
      “I prefer the taste of the Chanel,”he disclosed privately in an internal secret memo.[available on 50 years]
      “Why not lick my neck instead?” she enquired curiously as she tripped over Emile the cat, who had slipped into the bathroom as usual to see what they were up to,you know what I mean, you catch my drift?
      She fell floppily into the bath and banged her head on the taps.
      “Oh,gosh,better ring 999” Stan said to Emile.
      “Have you got your catphone warehouse mobile on you?”
      “Yes ,it’s in my y-fronts”, the cat amiably miaowed.
      “Hi Dave,this is Emile.Can you come quick.Annie is unconscious and what is worse,she has scratched the new bath.”
      In fact it was Emile who had scratched the bath that morning but since Stan had not noticed he hoped to, callously, pass the blame onto poor Annie.
      How cruel can a cat be? Ask any mouse! Still in the end God made all of us and what a terrifying and beautiful world it is.
      And of so say all of us

Leaking into earth

My boundaries broken, leaks my soul to earth

Disdained by helpers out flies my own worth

My door won’t close,my body is unsafe

Being cleaned by others seems like rape

No time is free for they come when they will

Losing one’s autonomy can kill

To break into the sacred heart brings death

Destroying or debasing with cold wrath

Cleaning Mary

By author

A light spray of Dettox covered Mary’s upper lip as the sweet maid followed her morning routine.

I am coming to wash you, the Carer announced

I hope they won’t spray my entire body with Dettox,Mary thought anxiously.It does not kill the virus

What about the backless night gown?

It sounds provocative But it is not.. Made of plastic it dries rapidly but it stops air drying your skin.

Why don’t they ask if you want to be washed?

The care is impersonal, You are merely an old person.They want a photo but not for sentimental reasons Just first safety with pills etc

At least they don’t sexually abuse us, we pray.

My organs have shrunk into my body I can’t see them myself.It is how they feel

And so cry all of us

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