Mary gets yet another letter from the hospital

jug and bottles 4

The postman was very late coming that morning.Stan was asleep in his armchair whilst Annie was analysing some data on the political alignments of the over fifties group in Knittingham.Mary was upstairs daydreaming.

Hi. Mary…Annie called.There’s a letter for you from the hospital.
Mary came down, her face a little pale with anxiety.She opened it slowly.Inside it had the following announcement

Your appointment on 5th October at 3 am with Dr Paramour has been cancelled..
We can offer you he following appointment:
5th October 2014 at 3 am in the usual clinic
This will be with Dr Paramour unless he goes on holiday again.He will remove your tumour and your humor as well.

PasqueFlower2
Stan read the letter.
Why have they sent this? he asked bemusedly as he blinked with his nice blue eyes.
Mary phoned the hospital.She spoke to a charming young man.
What does it mean? she enquired.Why give such a silly letter out.
It means nothing,the man said,It’s the computer.
Computers follow programmes.We’ve had this type of stupid letter many times in the last 6 months….it’s using paper and postage apart from the worry.Why can’t someone alter the programme?
I don’t know,the pleasant man replied.I think nobody understands it.
Don’t they realise that keeping patients calm and trusting is part of the healing process?
No,they don’t he answered despondently.We have to answer the phone all day long.So we can hear how upset some people are.
Stan called out,it’s in the government too.They wasted millions on a new system which was scrapped before it was ever used…
Where are all the intelligent people?
That’s what I have been wondering,thought Emile as he hid behind Annie’s new green handbag hoping a field mouse might come by
I am sure if I planned the the computer programmes I could fix this,said Mary.But I will never be given a job now.I don’t think I’d want it now with my eyesight.
Well,Mary,you are still very beautiful,said Stan.I think I want to go to bed with you.
Stan, how can you say it in front of Annie?
Well,she can come as well if she likes,he replied tactfully.
And what about Emile?
Oh, alright then.We’ll all go to bed even he … we need a life changing experience.And I do not mean another daft letter from that blooming hospital,The Royal Wee.
We could paper the walls with them.
I would not enjoy seeing the walls like that,said Annie.
I am just making a point… that they waste so much money…. and time answering the phone to correct their errors………. it’s like Alice in Sunderland.
I never knew she was a Geordy, mioawed Emile…
I just like to think of her that way,answered Stan.
Anyway,upstairs and off with your clothes… we must make love before we die even if it kills us or we have to go to A and E with angina,migraine,a broken rib or other unmentionable discomforts.
And being obedient they all want upstairs,got undressed and fell asleep side by side in Stan’s large soft bed… except for Emile.
I thought they were going to have a love in,he thought.Perhaps when they waken up,who knows?
Maybe the NHS are trying to make people mad so they will pay for private treatment….
Mary was dreaming she was back at Oxford teaching analysis to a group of frightened first year students…what a pity they are so nervous,she thought.They’s do better working in a garden centre or a zoo…

Emile gets his nerve back

  • Wikipedia

    Stan was happy for a few moments when he woke up.Then he realized Emile was not anywhere to be seen.Mary had already gone out as she wanted to catch a very early train to London.She needed to visit the British Library.She urgently wanted to find evidence that Wittgenstein wore a hat in bed.
    Stan went searching around the house but Emile had vanished.Usually at 8 am he would be dashing about pretending to chase flies and giving a balletic performance worthy of Sadler’s Wells.
    I wonder who Sadler was,Stan muttered as he filled the kettle with fresh water and put some Earl Grey tea into the teapot.
    Then, a strange feeling came over him.He looked up and there was Emile
    crouched on top of the highest cupboard in the kitchen.
    Emile,he cried,What are you doing up there?
    I’m training to be a spy,Emile replied nonchalantly.
    But how could this kitchen be of interest to the Intelligence Services?
    Well,the cat murmured,I am practising hiding.
    You gave me a terrible shock,Stan said.I had this feeling I was being watched.I wondered if it was paranoia.Then I saw your gleaming eyes.
    So,I need to get some dark glasses,Emile said.
    No,I would still feel that horrible feeling.And how were you planning to get down from that high ledge?
    I’m not sure,the cat mioawed faintly
    Well,the first lesson for a spy or even a detective is,
    Never go anywhere unless you can make a quick exit,
    As it is,I may have to ring 999.
    Just then the front doorbell rang.There stood a man with a white beard and moustache.
    Hello,he said holding out his hand to shake Stan’s.
    I am called Peter Fried.I have just moved into one of the new flats across the road.I am a psychoanalyst.I have taken on another flat to use as a consulting room and a waiting room
    A psychoanalyst! Do we need one round here? Well,Good morning,I have just brewed some tea.Would you like to join me?
    How kind,said Peter.
    I say,old bean,did you know there’s a cat on top of your cupboard?
    Yes,that is Emile.Today he has surpassed himself in wickedness.How I will get him down I don’t know.
    My training analyst used to say,What goes up must eventually come down.
    That seems a bit weird for an analyst.To what was he referring… something to do with sex I don’t doubt.It’s all sex with you people.
    Yes, some of us are very peculiar…that’s why we enter the profession.
    What I meant was,if Emile got up he can get down.How did you get up,Emile?
    I leaped,answered the tense animal.
    Can you leap down?
    I’ve lost my nerve,replied the poor creature softly.
    Well, as it happens,being a therapist,I always carry few sparwe nerves with me.I’ll climb up this stepladder and pass you a new nerve.
    And without waiting,Peter climbed the ladder.He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a golden thread.
    Here you are,Emile,Catch this in your claw.
    Emile caught the golden thread and wrapped it around his neck.
    Can you leap down now? enquired Stan.
    Emile leaped down and landed in a bowl of hot water in the sink.
    It’s a good thing I wasn’t making chips,laughed Stan.
    Come here,Emile and let me dry you on this old towel.He put Emile
    in front of the fire and he and Peter drank mugs of Earl Grey tea.
    I have got a mistress,Stan told Peter.
    Well,do you want therapy for your conflict?
    Oh,no.I’m far too old for therapy or indeed for a mistress.I was wondering of you would perhaps be interested …she just likes to spend a little time with an intriguing man.. talking, drawing graphs, interpreting data,making tea,calling the ambulance.. you know what I mean.She likes the paramedic,Dave.
    Is she not married?
    No,her husband fell into the wheelie bin during the night and alas he was taken away with the rubbish.
    That is a strange story.Are you certain?
    No,it could be he grew tired of her and ran away.Then she invented this story,
    Well,this may be a quiet suburb but I can see there is plenty of material here for me to write my next book:
    Deceptive appearances and the fascination of apparent dullness.
    Oh,that sounds very unusual.
    Well,I’ve never believed in true dullness.There is always a story.
    See,I’ve just met you a man of 98 yet you have a wife, a mistress and a crazy cat.. and I’ve only been here for one day.Imagine 6156119_f260

    what else I may discover here.
    They heard a siren.
    Oh,no!We’ve not even rung 999 and here is the ambulance….
    Mary will be so angry..You see Dave is bisexual.
    My goodness,are you having an affair with him.
    No way,shouted Stan.My life is tough enough already.He can be bisexual or even trisexual but I’m not interested.
    What does trisexual mean,enquired Emile.
    I have no idea but I thought it sounded good,admitted Stan.
    Peter stood up.
    I think I’d better go home and start to see my patients.
    Now Emile,put your nerve somewhere safe.We don’t want you to lose it again.
    Thank you,darling cried Emile.I think I’ve formed an erotic transference with you already.
    Peter rushed out.
    Is it me or is it them?he wondered.
    I thought it would be quiet here on the edge of Knittingham but I think now wherever you are there will always be something unexpected happening.But I hope Emile will not begin to follow me around.I shall have to buy a lady cat and then Emile might fall in love with her instead.So off Peter went whistling a Bach cello suite and wondering how to cope with life in a suburb.. clearly it was not as dull as he had imagined.

Stan and the angel

7907364_f520

Stan had eaten too much pizza all at once because he was extremely ravenous from doing the washing and hanging it up on the mulberry tree in his long garden, Now he felt lazy and haphazardly fey;he felt other worldly and liable to have visions..Now and then he saw an angel, whom he called Yael,in his home.But having looked up Yael on a website he realised she was not a very nice woman unlike his dear wife Mary.So he was planning to have a new name for the angel with her permissiom
Do you mind if I change your name,he enquired gently when Yael came in through the French window looking gentle yet fierce.
Well,what to? Yael asked him familiarly
How about Ysabel? Stan offered.It’s got just an extra b and s.
Or how about,Sybael?
You seem fond of b and s, the angel answered in confused humour.
It was just mere chance,said Stan somewhat defensively.
Ok I’ll take Sybael,the angel said loudly .
I want to change my name too, said Emile the cat living with Stan.
How about Mebiles or Melibes or Eimbles….
I don’t know, pouted the cat haughtily.
How about Semile,said Stan.Though it has no letter b in it, he bragged.
They all pondered quietly as the sun shone in through the window and made a lovely lacy pattern on the walls.
In came Mary,Stan’s sweet old wife and his computer aided extension too.
You are very quiet,Stan,she murmured.What’s going on here?
We are tring to find a new name for Emile,Stan told her as Sybael waved her wings about.
It seems very draughty ,Mary said.And Emile can’t change his name because it will change his personality.That is a fact.
I didn’t know I had a personality,the little cat purred.
It is what is most characteristic of you.For example, if you always hurt those you love then you have a cruel personality or you have got diabetes.Some people want love but they are too harsh and demanding.
So true,Stan added pensively.
Anyway,I have some awfully strange news,Mary went on.
You just won’t believe this but Dorothy Grey who lives at the bottom of the hill by the church has just had a heart attack.
How come?
She had an online love relationship with a rather peculiar but intriguing and clever elderly man who turned out to be a sadist in disguise.So when she ended it he flew over and attacked her with an air gun and some cat’s claws which he had bought from a cat market in Morocco
Is he a wizard,asked Emile excitedly.
No, he flew on a stolen magic carpet from Persia or somesuch..
Persian carpets,I’d love one here said the cat greedily
Actually it’s a kind of aeroplane,said Stan.
How boring ,said Mary angrily.Anyway Dorothy was so shocked her arteries spasmed and she is in A and E now on morphine,she added..
What a shame that she got that instead of a spasm elsewhere….Stan muttered thinking of Freud’s writings.
But who’d have sex with such a horrible harsh old man? Mary asked.
An equally horrible old woman,maybe? Stan riposted.
Any way it all goes to show the dangers of online love, he informed the room.
It’s not real love,is it, because in real love the other person is as important to you as yourself.Mary said theologically.
Well, Eros is a kind of love,too.But many old men just want thei washing done and a companion.Eros has departed from their world.
Sybael smiled and then flew out of the window.
What was that noise, said Mary anxiously as her ears were very sharp.
Just an angel’s wings,said Stan quietly
If only Dorothy had seen an angel instead of that harsh old man she might be much better now.Mary mused.But not everyone can see them.The world seems full of horrible old men and beautiful young women
Emile winked at Stan and then ran out to chase a butterfly amongst the scented tulips.. there were lots of angels there every day but only he knew.
Angels don’t like big modern cities but they like old abbeys and cathedrals and places where such things used to be before post modernist architecture took over.
And cat’s claws are not meant for scratching your loved ones either.Online dating should be avoided except with atheists and agnostics.They are less judgemental about women’s place and roles.It’s strange how harsh many religious people are.Harsh and unforgiving.Still it’s probable  in their genes

Love in a wheelie bin

Stan was in his front gardenpolishing the wheelie bins with lavender wax polish.
He was not very happy as the garden was only 10 feet by 12. so the huge wheelie bins ruined it.When he got to the third one the lid popped open and out jumped his next door neighbour “Adulterous Annie”.
Hello,Stan” she whispered.”Where’s Mary now ?”
“Why?”Stan muttered into the back of her neck which he licked as he like her salty taste.
“I was thinking, these bins are so big,we could both get inside one.It would make a change1!”.”What a strange idea” he replied philosophically.however age was no bstacle where love was involved. if you catch my drift.
Soon Stan and Anne were in the big green recycling bin.Stan being 81 had shrunk somewhat so he took up less space than Annie did.He allowed her  to kiss his left eyelid.What a lovely feeling.
Alas, all too soon,as they say, they heard Mary’s bicycle bell.She was getting faster amd faster.As she wheeled her bikeup the 30 yard long front path to the porch she heardmurmurings and mutters,
She lifted up the green plastic lid and saw the two loverscovered in cuttings from the privet hedge.
“What the bleedin’hell are you doing in there?”she shouted mellifluously.
Well,it’s hard to explain,……………but Stan was wondering about a green funeral” Anne said mischievously.
“Funeral ,my hat!” Mary said coldly.”Get out at once”
“Don’t speak to me like that” Stan beseeched her brazenly.
“Well,it’s a shock to find your husband in the bin with another woman!”
“Wouldn’t it be more of a shock if he was in the bin with a man,or even a sheep?”
“Schmann or Schwommann,sheep,,it’s immaterial.
“Hurry,get out,quickly before the school exit time.what will all the mums think as they go by?”
But poor Stan could not get out,He was stuck.Oh,my!what an odd phrase.
“Have you got your mobile on you?” “Yes,it’s here in my bag.
“You’d better call 999” “What a brilliant idea!”
Soon Dave the paramedic arrived.
Mary showed him Stan’s situation.
Ever resourceful ,Dave was not bothered though the NHS budget might be getting cut.
He tied some rope round Stan’s waist and between the three of them and Emile the cat and his friend Elizabeth, they managed to haul him out.
Annie stood weeping with shame.Her silvery blue eyeshadow was beginning to run mixed with tears and black water soluble mascara from Chanel of Paris and London. Her new coral lipstick from Clinique was not as non-allergenic as she hope.Never mind,it gave her lips that bee stung look that many men admire.It reminded Stan of his boyhood days playing near High Force Waterfalls in upper Teesdale….Teesdale ,still an undiscovered and undervalued part of England,Contact the English Touring Board for more information. Holiday Loans available from Thwaites of Stockton and Darlington at only 1% interest.
Mary gave Annie a large Kleenex tissue,”Come indoors,honey, and I’ll make you some Ceylon tea.It’s been the most thrilling event of my entire life and I’ve photographed you with my new Nokia camera phone[Prices available on request from The Catphone Warehouse,Teesside,Northern England,comes in pink and pink and…pink?How I love pink!]
I’m going to send some to the local paper.
Stan staggered upstairs covered in bits of privet ,lettuce and cabbage hearts, and carrot tops,not to mention a few dozen banana skins and a few potato peelings.
What an afternoon.[Please contact the society for  the care  and protection of vegetables if you wish to make a complaint about this story.}
“That’s the last time I climb into a wheelie bin”,he thunked
“Next time we’ll use the cardboard and newspaper wheelie bin” he proclaimed.

 

Go and put the skittle on the st*ve.,St*n advised her decently

You are too prissy,Mary,Stan told his dear wife.Everybody uses four letter words now except you.
What is so special about four letters,she replied mathematically.
I’m not sure quite why;it’s an historical accident ,said St*n thoughtfully*
Is it because they are expletives s h*ve to sound like bullets being fired.For example
“F*ck off, you old sh*t bag”
Sounds different fr*m
“Kindly go away,old thing.”said M*ry wonderingly.
That is true,said her 98 year old husband with a snigger,
So why do you want me to swear?
Well,now you have a tablet computer and a chromebook you need an i phone and you need to talk like the young do as w*ll.
I phones are very expensive and you know me,I’m cr*p at finding where I leave the f*cking things.
Now,Mary,control yourself.I am your husband
What the h*ll has that got to do with it.
You should be very n*ce to me.
So whom do you w*sh me to swear at?
I’m not sure.Maybe when you sing in the kitchen you could alter the words of the songs..
As I waltzed out to f*ck at 8 pm
The lambs were coming home and sucked my thumb
I heard a neighbour complain of all this cr*p
So I’m going to Waterstone’s for to buy a new m*p
Something wrong with the meter h*re methinks,said St*n.
And somehow,swearing does not seem to blend with your personality and gentle quiet nature,M*ry,darling.
Cut the cr*p.It’s too la*e now.I’ve become addicted.
But how many f*ur letter words are there?I might find it limiting.
Some fourn letter words are not swearing
like
t*me,k*nd,w*nd,fl*ff,hair,l*ps,n*ps,tw*t
but some are like
f8ck,sh*t,cr*p,tw*t.
So twit is ok at your age but twat is not,the demure old l*dy replied.Anyway don’t you kn*w any m*re?
D*mn!
Perhaps we’ll h*ve to buy a b*ok and learn s*me new ones but to wh*m shall we say them
Would your mistress,Annie kn*w?
Well,I can ask her.
But is it sensible?
If women w*nt equal rights it’s not the s*me as being compelled to use words that only workmen us*d to use.
It’s like saying we can’t have public conveniences for women;they will have to use the gents!
What will they use the gents for, one of them queried.
For sensual gratification and relieving tension.
Is it legal?
Anything is legal as long as you d*n’t h*ve to pay!
That reminds me of Russell’s Paradox.
Oh,my God,don’t say you are on to Russell now!
It’s m*re l*ke he is on to me.
Whatever do you m*an,St*n said.
He is trying to invade my m*nd.
Well,make it password protected!!
How do I do th*t?
Go online and f*nd out.
Perhaps we can password protect yo*r tongue to st*p you saying all those words like tw*t*
But I don’t w*nt to st*p.
In that case you must invent some m*re or th*y get boring you see.
Flaff off you crum!
Eff doff you runt!
Don’t you leak to me like trat
Why egger nuts?
Clean your organ in the mawnin.
What is so runny about swap?
Goody bell,the vicar is b*er!
Lie down and he won’t bee us on the door!
It’s very dirty down h*re.
Get the vacuum out!
The vacuum is clean,it’s the carpet that’s full of nap!
I blame you,
For what?
Basting my rhymes in divine.
Well,it’s time for our wee now.
Go and but the skittle on the stove.
By George,I feel terry funicular!
I’ll put some neatener in your wee.
I’ll c*me here again!
Stop that askance!
Can’t I r*ke a glance?
Show you can pot?
Pot wh*t?
The wee pot.
You are very mod!
Blank you so crutch.
Puck off,it’s t*me for twerk.
Oh,my d**r!
It’s being so n**r.
wh*t m*kes ’em so d**r.

Emile and his cat therapy:On the sofa with myself

Emile’s pyscho-analyst

As the new day dawned,Peter Fried.. that infamous psychoanalyst woke upto find himself in the washing machine yet again.He unwound himselfand crawled out.On the table was a note.
Dear Peter,
I washed up..hope you had a good night in the washing machine.Speak to you soon…Best wishes,Susan.

He moaned loudly at the prospect.Perhaps staying in Hampstead would have been better but he felt an obligation to spread his new therapeutic methods to the less civilized parts of Britain… such as Knittingham.But he had already met the most peculiar people who had caught him on their pan and would soon be eating him for dinner.
He looked out at the street… but there peeering into the window was Emile. the well loved cat
For,God’s sake Emile… why are you back here,he whispered.
I’d like to finish off your curry,Peter.
How kind of you.. please come in.
When Emile came in he jumped onto the couch.
You can’t eat it there,Emile,Peter said politely.
Well.. the truth is..I think I need therapy.Is it very expensive for cats?
I don’t recall anyone having treated a cat before.
This could make you famous,Peter.
Well,why do you think you need therapy?
I am suffering from a severe case of unfulfilled love.
You have problems with your lady cat friend?
No, no… the problem is I am in love with Susan.I dream of her every night.
And what are you doing in the dream?
What would you be doing,Peter..
I’m afraid the analyst must not reveal themselves,the cunning man responded rapidly as he blushed shyly.
And my second and more serious problem is that I am afraid I may be bisexual…I love you now as well as her.Is there any hope that i can return from neurosis to just the normal unhappiness of life?
Well, for a start I’d stop reading Freud..And let me ask Stan whether he is willing to pay for therapy.
Is it very expensive? asked the cast pensively
I let you use my washing machine free but he must pay for the soap powder.
What, are you going to give me washing machine therapy.
Well,it may be the best for you as the mud you lick from your fur may be affecting your brain.
Any other type of therapy?
Well, we might try Mindfulness or Meta-cognitive therapy.
That sounds very complicated.
Well,apart from that,you can keep busy , avoid coming  here and don’t touch  my best  suit…
But can’t you write a paper like Freud wrote about the Wolf Man? Emile enquired with a strange enchanting charm

Wow,Emile you are very clever but alas that does not make people happy as you are a mere cat.It causes envy in their souls.So just mew now and then and purr and soon you will find a lady cat to love,I feel sure.You must not free associate as we now know Freud was mistranslated and he meant, Fee Negotiate.That means fight over the money you pay.I am not happy as money is the root of much evil especially when it is stolen from the poor to  give to a witch or a wizard living in West Finnisterre or Doggerell.

And good night to you all and may God bless you all, some more than others

 

Xmas Eve with Stan and Mary

  • 6378673_f260
  • Mary liked that moment on mas Eve when at last she closed the front door after Stan had carried in the last bit of shopping and the shops would close for a while…Although many only close for one day,there is a still a feeling in many women’s hearts that they must stock up with all conceivable food and drink.At one time Stan baked bread so there was no panic buying of elderly sliced loaves from newsagents shops,just in case the real bread ran out. After all one might eat fried mince pies and eggs for breakfast or curried Christmas cake with brown rice and bananas in lemon juice for dinner. Man cannot live by bread alone and here we can all agree even if we are not religious. Mary walked down the hall and into the green and blue kitchen.
    Mary walked down the hall and into the green and blue kitchen. I’ll make a good cup of tea now,she cried to Stan. Thanks,honey. he replied in his kindly way.Any choccy biscuits?Stan loved a chocolate biscuit but parsimony made Mary refuse to buy them weekly.And also Stan himself believes that if you eat something every week it’s no longer such a treat. Mary poured the boiling water into the tea pot and at the same moment she heard a familiar voice. Hi,Stan,Hi Mary,can I come in and have a chat now? It was Annie their stunning neighbour wearing a long green tartan wool skirt and a cashmere and merino jumper of ocean blue. Her eyeshadow was teal and her lipstick was pale pink and shiney like a well polished mirrror. Why Annie,you match the kitchen,said Stan.You will have to move in. Where would I sleep? she enquired roguishly In the dog’s basket.It’s quite big… it was made for a St Bernard You don’t have any dog,Annie cried through her luscious wasp stung pink glowing lips. There’s no law that stops cat owners buying dog baskets.Stan said humorously. But it seems silly to me,Annie murmured.A waste of money. Well,we did think that if someone wanted to stay over they could sleep in it. What a strange idea when you have a five bedroomed house with 3 en suites and a sprinkler in the garden. Well,we had the dog basket when we lived in a small flat and have never updated our mental set ups.Stan lectured manfully. How do we update our mental set ups,asked Mary with a twinkle in her large blue and singularly beautiful eyes. Well,Mary,look at you.I asked you to buy a laptiop ten years ago but you were convinced that you would never be able to learn how to use it.Clearly with your mathematical training and you love of philosophy and your three higher degrees in real and complex analysis you were judging yourself wrongly….. but why you think you can’t do certain things I am not able to say.You might date it back to always being asked to do too much as a child. Yes,said Mary.When we got an electric cooker,Mother could not work the timer but she knew I could do it.But it was only by trial and error,not to mention trial and terror. Annie said Thank God I was backward as a child so I played with dolls till I was fifteen and then I played with a boy in the shrubbery and he played with me Very nice I am sure,Mary said icily.And you still play with yourself nowI expect. How dare you said,Annie.I play by myself but not with myself. This is all very odd,thought Emile. Can a cat play with itself? Yes,I have played with my shadow on the big brick wall… all alone.Does Annie play with her shadow? That must be good fun. Suddenly the door bell rang very loudly making Stan turn green as he fell off his chair onto the red cork flooring.In ran Dave,the transexual paramedic.. Here I am and I have brought Emile 12 mice pies,he cried merrily Are they sweet or savoury ,asked Stan curiously. I dunno said Dave.I got’em in Waitclose.You could phone them. All I want to know is, were the mice raised in a suitable environment with fresh air and plenty of natural food.Are the pies full of taste enhancers and dangerous chemicals? Oh,my said Dave turning red,I only got them for Emile not for the Queen Mother. Well,Stan said, we must be consistent in life and what is wrong for one species must be wrong for all. But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    Well,Mary,look at you.I asked you to buy a laptiop ten years ago but you were convinced that you would never be able to learn how to use it.Clearly with your mathematical training and you love of philosophy and your three higher degrees in real and complex analysis you were judging yourself wrongly….. but why you think you can’t do certain things I am not able to say.You might date it back to always being asked to do too much as a child. Yes,said Mary.When we got an electric cooker,Mother could not work the timer but she knew I could do it.But it was only by trial and error,not to mention trial and terror. Annie said Thank God I was backward as a child so I played with dolls till I was fifteen and then I played with a boy in the shrubbery and he played with me Very nice I am sure,Mary said icily.And you still play with yourself nowI expect. How dare you said,Annie.I play by myself but not with myself. This is all very odd,thought Emile. Can a cat play with itself? Yes,I have played with my shadow on the big brick wall… all alone.Does Annie play with her shadow? That must be good fun. Suddenly the door bell rang very loudly making Stan turn green as he fell off his chair onto the red cork flooring.In ran Dave,the transexual paramedic.. Here I am and I have brought Emile 12 mice pies,he cried merrily Are they sweet or savoury ,asked Stan curiously. I dunno said Dave.I got’em in Waitclose.You could phone them. All I want to know is, were the mice raised in a suitable environment with fresh air and plenty of natural food.Are the pies full of taste enhancers and dangerous chemicals? Oh,my said Dave turning red,I only got them for Emile not for the Queen Mother. Well,Stan said, we must be consistent in life and what is wrong for one species must be wrong for all. But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    Yes,said Mary.When we got an electric cooker,Mother could not work the timer but she knew I could do it.But it was only by trial and error,not to mention trial and terror. Annie said Thank God I was backward as a child so I played with dolls till I was fifteen and then I played with a boy in the shrubbery and he played with me Very nice I am sure,Mary said icily.And you still play with yourself nowI expect. How dare you said,Annie.I play by myself but not with myself. This is all very odd,thought Emile. Can a cat play with itself? Yes,I have played with my shadow on the big brick wall… all alone.Does Annie play with her shadow? That must be good fun. Suddenly the door bell rang very loudly making Stan turn green as he fell off his chair onto the red cork flooring.In ran Dave,the transexual paramedic.. Here I am and I have brought Emile 12 mice pies,he cried merrily Are they sweet or savoury ,asked Stan curiously. I dunno said Dave.I got’em in Waitclose.You could phone them. All I want to know is, were the mice raised in a suitable environment with fresh air and plenty of natural food.Are the pies full of taste enhancers and dangerous chemicals? Oh,my said Dave turning red,I only got them for Emile not for the Queen Mother. Well,Stan said, we must be consistent in life and what is wrong for one species must be wrong for all. But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish men sometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    Sintriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s you can’t do certain things I am not able to say.You might date it back to always being asked to do too much as a child. Yes,said Mary.When we got an electric cooker,Mother could not work the timer but she knew I could do it.But it was only by trial and error,not to mention trial and terror. Annie said Thank God I was backward as a child so I played with dolls till I was fifteen and then I played with a boy in the shrubbery and he played with me Very nice I am sure,Mary said icily.And you still play with yourself nowI expect. How dare you said,Annie.I play by myself but not with myself. This is all very odd,thought Emile. Can a cat play with itself? Yes,I have played with my shadow on the big brick wall… all alone.Does Annie play with her shadow? That must be good fun. Suddenly the door bell rang very loudly making Stan turn green as he fell off his chair onto the red cork flooring.In ran Dave,the transexual paramedic.. Here I am and I have brought Emile 12 mice pies,he cried merrily Are they sweet or savoury ,asked Stan curiously. I dunno said Dave.I got’em in Waitclose.You could phone them. All I want to know is, were the mice raised in a suitable environment with fresh air and plenty of natural food.Are the pies full of taste enhancers and dangerous chemicals? Oh,my said Dave turning red,I only got them for Emile not for the Queen Mother. Well,Stan said, we must be consistent in life and what is wrong for one species must be wrong for all. But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    Hi,Stan,Hi Mary,can I come in and have a chat now? It was Annie their stunning neighbour wearing a long green tartan wool skirt and a cashmere and merino jumper of ocean blue. Her eyeshadow was teal and her lipstick was pale pink and shiney like a well polished mirrror. Why Annie,you match the kitchen,said Stan.You will have to move in. Where would I sleep? she enquired roguishly In the dog’s basket.It’s quite big… it was made for a St Bernard You don’t have any dog,Annie cried through her luscious wasp stung pink glowing lips. There’s no law that stops cat owners buying dog baskets.Stan said humorously. But it seems silly to me,Annie murmured.A waste of money. Well,we did think that if someone wanted to stay over they could sleep in it. What a strange idea when you have a five bedroomed house with 3 en suites and a sprinkler in the garden. Well,we had the dog basket when we lived in a small flat and have never updated our mental set ups.Stan lectured manfully. How do we update our mental set ups,asked Mary with a twinkle in her large blue and singularly beautiful eyes. Well,Mary,look at you.I asked you to buy a laptiop ten years ago but you were convinced that you would never be able to learn how to use it.Clearly with your mathematical training and you love of philosophy and your three higher degrees in real and complex analysis you were judging yourself wrongly….. but why you think you can’t do certain things I am not able to say.You might date it back to always being asked to do too much as a child. Yes,said Mary.When we got an electric cooker,Mother could not work the timer but she knew I could do it.But it was only by trial and error,not to mention trial and terror. Annie said Thank God I was backward as a child so I played with dolls till I was fifteen and then I played with a boy in the shrubbery and he played with me Very nice I am sure,Mary said icily.And you still play with yourself nowI expect. How dare you said,Annie.I play by myself but not with myself. This is all very odd,thought Emile. Can a cat play with itself? Yes,I have played with my shadow on the big brick wall… all alone.Does Annie play with her shadow? That must be good fun. Suddenly the door bell rang very loudly making Stan turn green as he fell off his chair onto the red cork flooring.In ran Dave,the transexual paramedic.. Here I am and I have brought Emile 12 mice pies,he cried merrily Are they sweet or savoury ,asked Stan curiously. I dunno said Dave.I got’em in Waitclose.You could phone them. All I want to know is, were the mice raised in a suitable environment with fresh air and plenty of natural food.Are the pies full of taste enhancers and dangerous chemicals? Oh,my said Dave turning red,I only got them for Emile not for the Queen Mother. Well,Stan said, we must be consistent in life and what is wrong for one species must be wrong for all. But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    Why Annie,you match the kitchen,said Stan.You will have to move in. Where would I sleep? she enquired roguishly In the dog’s basket.It’s quite big… it was made for a St Bernard You don’t have any dog,Annie cried through her luscious wasp stung pink glowing lips. There’s no law that stops cat owners buying dog baskets.Stan said humorously. But it seems silly to me,Annie murmured.A waste of money. Well,we did think that if someone wanted to stay over they could sleep in it. What a strange idea when you have a five bedroomed house with 3 en suites and a sprinkler in the garden. Well,we had the dog basket when we lived in a small flat and have never updated our mental set ups.Stan lectured manfully. How do we update our mental set ups,asked Mary with a twinkle in her large blue and singularly beautiful eyes. Well,Mary,look at you.I asked you to buy a laptiop ten years ago but you were convinced that you would never be able to learn how to use it.Clearly with your mathematical training and you love of philosophy and your three higher degrees in real and complex analysis you were judging yourself wrongly….. but why you think you can’t do certain things I am not able to say.You might date it back to always being asked to do too much as a child. Yes,said Mary.When we got an electric cooker,Mother could not work the timer but she knew I could do it.But it was only by trial and error,not to mention trial and terror. Annie said Thank God I was backward as a child so I played with dolls till I was fifteen and then I played with a boy in the shrubbery and he played with me Very nice I am sure,Mary said icily.And you still play with yourself nowI expect. How dare you said,Annie.I play by myself but not with myself. This is all very odd,thought Emile. Can a cat play with itself? Yes,I have played with my shadow on the big brick wall… all alone.Does Annie play with her shadow? That must be good fun. Suddenly the door bell rang very loudly making Stan turn green as he fell off his chair onto the red cork flooring.In ran Dave,the transexual paramedic.. Here I am and I have brought Emile 12 mice pies,he cried merrily Are they sweet or savoury ,asked Stan curiously. I dunno said Dave.I got’em in Waitclose.You could phone them. All I want to know is, were the mice raised in a suitable environment with fresh air and plenty of natural food.Are the pies full of taste enhancers and dangerous chemicals? Oh,my said Dave turning red,I only got them for Emile not for the Queen Mother. Well,Stan said, we must be consistent in life and what is wrong for one species must be wrong for all. But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angels twang’
    had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    But it seems silly to me,Annie murmured.A waste of money. Well,we did think that if someone wanted to stay over they could sleep in it. What a strange idea when you have a five bedroomed house with 3 en suites and a sprinkler in the garden. Well,we had the dog basket when we lived in a small flat and have never updated our mental set ups.Stan lectured manfully. How do we update our mental set ups,asked Mary with a twinkle in her large blue and singularly beautiful eyes. Well,Mary,look at you.I asked you to buy a laptiop ten years ago but you were convinced that you would never be able to learn how to use it.Clearly with your mathematical training and you love of philosophy and your three higher degrees in real and complex analysis you were judging yourself wrongly….. but why you think you can’t do certain things I am not able to say.You might date it back to always being asked to do too much as a child. Yes,said Mary.When we got an electric cooker,Mother could not work the timer but she knew I could do it.But it was only by trial and error,not to mention trial and terror. Annie said Thank God I was backward as a child so I played with dolls till I was fifteen and then I played with a boy in the shrubbery and he played with me Very nice I am sure,Mary said icily.And you still play with yourself nowI expect. How dare you said,Annie.I play by myself but not with myself. This is all very odd,thought Emile. Can a cat play with itself? Yes,I have played with my shadow on the big brick wall… all alone.Does Annie play with her shadow? That must be good fun. Suddenly the door bell rang very loudly making Stan turn green as he fell off his chair onto the red cork flooring.In ran Dave,the transexual paramedic.. Here I am and I have brought Emile 12 mice pies,he cried merrily Are they sweet or savoury ,asked Stan curiously. I dunno said Dave.I got’em in Waitclose.You could phone them. All I want to know is, were the mice raised in a suitable environment with fresh air and plenty of natural food.Are the pies full of taste enhancers and dangerous chemicals? Oh,my said Dave turning red,I only got them for Emile not for the Queen Mother. Well,Stan said, we must be consistent in life and what is wrong for one species must be wrong for all. But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    This is all very odd,thought Emile. Can a cat play with itself? Yes,I have played with my shadow on the big brick wall… all alone.Does Annie play with her shadow? That must be good fun. Suddenly the door bell rang very loudly making Stan turn green as he fell off his chair onto the red cork flooring.In ran Dave,the transexual paramedic.. Here I am and I have brought Emile 12 mice pies,he cried merrily Are they sweet or savoury ,asked Stan curiously. I dunno said Dave.I got’em in Waitclose.You could phone them. All I want to know is, were the mice raised in a suitable environment with fresh air and plenty of natural food.Are the pies full of taste enhancers and dangerous chemicals? Oh,my said Dave turning red,I only got them for Emile not for the Queen Mother. Well,Stan said, we must be consistent in life and what is wrong for one species must be wrong for all. But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’
    Suddenly the door bell rang very loudly making Stan turn green as he fell off his chair onto the red cork flooring.In ran Dave,the transexual paramedic.. Here I am and I have brought Emile 12 mice pies,he cried merrily Are they sweet or savoury ,asked Stan curiously. I dunno said Dave.I got’em in Waitclose.You could phone them. All I want to know is, were the mice raised in a suitable environment with fresh air and plenty of natural food.Are the pies full of taste enhancers and dangerous chemicals? Oh,my said Dave turning red,I only got them for Emile not for the Queen Mother. Well,Stan said, we must be consistent in life and what is wrong for one species must be wrong for all. But can you prove that,asked Mary.Suppose some mice have been eating food in a house where they only eat ready made meals and buy cakes in a supermarket.Folk in such a house would not mind their cats and the mice eating food full of all manner of preservatives,flavouring of a artificial type and going without five fruits a day.I can’t imagine a mouse eating five fruits a day.He’d prefer five spoons of bread and cheese grated. I suppose it would depend on the size of the fruit,Stan answered eloquently. I do like coming here,said Dave.You discuss such intriguing things. Well,said Annie,I’d prefer to discuss what sort of shampoo is good for old hair. The hair is not old,said Dave.It grows all the time and you cut the ends off so it’s new… You know what I mean,older people’s hair can go thinner and more frizzy… even cat’s coats are not so thick when they grow old.Sometimes they have to be given tailor made winter coats and small hats. Why,are they Jewish ? teased Mary.. What do you mean ? Jewish mensometimes wear little caps or even big hats in winter to mark their respect for God, the great mystery.. I am afraid you have made an error in your logic: All Jewish men wear hats Emile wears a hat Hence Emile is Jewish, That is not a valid argument. Neither is : All boys play games. I play games Hence I am a boy. Do Jewish boys play with hats,asked Emile. No,they play with cats,Stan told him.Just like most other boys do.Why I used to spend hours trailing string across the floor to get our little kitty excited…. then one day she got really over excited and later gave birth to four kittens, You don’t think it was playing with string that caused that, Mary whispered behind her hand to Stan.They must have had a father. Yes,causation and correlation are often confused.Buying a car does not cause one to fornicate in the back seat.It just gives an extra choice to hand when the bushes and haystacks are wet Can’t we listen to some carols,said Annie nervously. We can sing one said Stan.Here is my newest. Oh,little town of Bethlehem divided by a wall….. Hark the herald angel’s twang.

Emile and the hospital story

  • When the aged,wrinkled yet lively old man Stan and his immodestly shy, wildly pretty,blue eyed and brilliant wife Mary arrived at their local “hospital” in an ambulance Stan was carried into the Resuscitation Room and was lying down on a trolley…… which is like a bed with wheels.How did I get here? he asked God, who was on a shelf,impetuously.None of the staff answered.http://youtu.be/EIjTBC9pAxEA nurse came in and gave him some oxygen but no-one washed his face and hands…the nurse said they were overworked that day with all the usual drunken English folk falling off buses or off pavements or arguing and hitting each other with beer bottles,
    After another four hours a doctor came and looked at the weary old fellow.
    I think I’ll order a CAT scan for your head. he muttered nervously,as if talking to a spirit.
    Oh,My cat,Emile, is not here,Stan informed him.
    Shall I get my mistress to fetch him?
    You have a mistress as well as a wife,he asked curiously.
    Yes I do,You should get one,Stan said.
    They are useful when the wife is at work.And it’s a very honourable position for a widow who is bored.
    I think that’s immoral,when your wife is earning all your crusts,said the doctor cruelly in a very sarcastic tone..his eyes shining with demonic glee.
    I don’t mind,said Mary cheerfully.After all,it gives him exercise and stimulation.And I can do my research peacefully.I have always thought the French had the right idea about love
    You can say that again,said Stan!
    The French had the right idea about love!
    How about Revolution?
    I don’t think we could handle a Revolution,said the doctor in a kindly voice,his mouth drooping slightly with fatigue.After Stan had his CAT scan they had to wait patiently for two hours for the result….the scan had to be emailed to a Consultant elsewhere,that is… at home by the TV
    The CAT scan area was shut except for emergencies and had an eerie emptiness which contrasted oddly with the crowded noisy Casualty Department.Two men od different colours were arguing loudly in the Scan area.
    Mary knocked on the door and told them off,much to the delight of the porter.
    Later Mary phoned Anne,her neighbour and begged her to bring Emile her cat to the hospital in a large zipped bag… with a breathing space.
    Anne arrived after only ten minutes or so.. loking colourful
    Emile put his head out of the unzipped top and said,
    What a strange smell this room has.. is it TCP?
    Stan was very glad to see Emile. Anne went out and got Mary a spinach and mouse sandwich and some tea.She helped Mary to keep Stan comfortable with glasses of water,bottles to pee into,tissues to mop up the blood from his hands and face…no doubt this is well known to many of you.Several doctors too many came in…separately.One told them Stan had fractured the bone under his right eye.
    Don’t blow your nose,Stan.Your eye might come out…

    Wow,they don’t soften the blow,do they said Anne,her face pink with the over heated air of the
    A and E ward
    How far out would it come? enquired Mary scientifically
    her pointed face creased with worry.But none of the staff answered
    Mary advised Stan gently,
    Just blot the end of your nose,honey,if it runs.You’ll be alright with me here.
    Though his eye looked very peculiar

    Another doctor came in after six hours and informed old Stan he had confusions in his brain.
    See a psychiatrist,Stan told him rudely.Why tell me?
    Emile hid his head inside the bag.

    I am going to ring a neurosurgeon,don’t go home till I get back,he ordered Mary bossily
    Another doctor told them Stan should see an opthalmologist….
    Mary began to feel sick…and the first doctor never came back.
    Perhaps he’s fallen into a black hole,said Anne foolishly as she reapplied her orange lipstick and powdered her ample bosom and cleavage.
    Stan mewed musically to tease Emile.Emile purred as loud as possible…he enjoyed purring very much.
    At midnight the staff nurse advised the women to go home as Mary would have to be admitted to the Cardiac Unit if she stayed much longer….. her face was as white as a goat’s belly…is that wight?
    They went off in a minicab but left Emile under the trolley on a small shelf from where he chatted to Stan and operated a recording device… to spy on the staff
    Stan grew more and more tired,lying all alone…pity they don’t have a lying in nurse nowadays!
    Why,I feel as if I am in prison, he told Emile…I want to go home and go to my own bed…
    Me too,said Emile…I have a new girlfriend called Jenny,he went on.
    I look forward to meeting her, said Stan..and he fell into a dream where he was surrounded by lovely female nurses in pale pink uniforms all smiling at him……..if only it were true.
    Can you dream whilst awake?
    Yes, all life is but a dream..and I’m a butterfly.
    And I see I am in some photographs

Riemann’s cat

 

Scrodinger's cat?
Scrodinger

Two whole worlds.

One small cut.
One little chink.
Hard to find.
Very,very hard.
One small place
Where a very little cat
Could slip right through
The geometrician ‘s cut.
Cat could slip right through.
Just,slip straight through.
Joining it’s own reflection
On the opposite side.
The mirror’s other side.

And if I caught that tail,
If I caught her little tail,
She could pull me through,
She could pull me through,
So she and I too
We’d be on the other side,
The wrong way round,
On the opposite side.

So when you looked in,
If you looked in,
You would see me there,
Looking out at you,
From the opposite side.
From the opposite side.
And the cat beside
Looking very small,
Very,very small;
But very,very real.
How do you think you’d feel,
If I was looking out,
Staring at you
From the opposite side?

I can’t get back.
I can’t find Riemann’s cat
and without that pussy cat
I can’t find Riemann’s cut.
I think I’m in a trap.
I cannot find that cat.
So she can’t find the cut
To get me back,
She can’t bring me back
To where I was before.

Oh,how queer,
To have two of me in here.
I hope I’ll get on well
With my other self,
Behind the looking glass.
No one looking in,
But two are staring out.
From that other world.

I am looking out,
I’m looking out
To see if you are there.
One of you’s with me
That makes the total three.
Oh,dear me,
I should not have grabbed
Little pussy’s tail.
I didn’t really know
Where she meant to go.

“Where have you been?
Where do you think you’ve been
To get so filthy black,
And where’s your pussy cat?”
She never came back.
Never came back
From the opposite side.
Mammy thought I’d lied.
I don’t tell lies,
But I can see my cat
Staring out at me.
Staring out at me
From the other side.
From the opposite side
Of my looking glass.
My lovely looking glass
Has trapped my tiny cat
On the opposite side.
On the opposite side
On the other side

Stan has a perplexing day

4536039_f260

[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!

In the box with Father Knox

  • Pray Father,give me some washing.I’ve got Wikileaks and a new obsession.
    Tell me more,my child.I am feeling bored.
    I think someone has been inside my computer.
    They can’t be human. so why worry?
    Why not,Father?
    Well, we are not thin enough to get into the computer.
    Ah, they turn themselves into particles and come in with the current..
    when it’s high tide.
    Do you mean tied?
    No,Father.I’ve not been reading that book.Fifty Blades All Gay
    Neither have I but in the confessional I’ve heard it all and more.
    And how does that make you feel,Father?
    Why pay to read a fantasy when you can dream up your own?
    Some are born dim… others become dimner by choice
    Well,any sins tonight,my dear?
    I’m so sorry.I was planning to tell a lie but I forgot.
    There’s a list of sins in the Missal…have you read those?
    Yes,I’ve not tried most of them yet…  though I just got a slight  pang of anger
    when a brick fell onto my head from a clear blue sky.
    That’s natural anger,my child.but I feel it was odd for a brick to fall like that
    Has a brick ever fallen on your head,Father.
    Not yet but I’m only 97.I must buy a hard hat
    Wow,you look much olde than 97 r.Are you longing to diet?
    Why, is there no food in heaven?
    I wonder who cooks if they eat up food
    Maybe they live on manna.
    Does God eat food?
    That was one topic we never did in the cemetery.
    Do you mean the seminary.
    At my age, they are all one.
    You have reached Nirvana….congratulations.
    Well.I’d prefer a cup of tea.
    You English!
    What are you?
    I’m a great Dane.
    Did you say a grey Dane.
    That too.
    Well perk up;the show’s not quite over till the gnat really stings.
    Do gnats eat string?
    String… it’s my passion.Love it or mate it…get involved.
    Live a little.
    And for your penance… you must have a bath…
    Why?
    I don’t like the way you smell.
    Well,I am a dog.. we like  to sniff.May I borrow your hanky?
    Definitely,I shall dry your tears for you and  please try to commit  few intriguing sins before you come back here.
    I’ll wash it for you.And dry  it out of doors
    Well,it’s not over till that gnat gets its sting and the phone gets a ring

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did you make them,Mary enquired courteously.

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

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

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

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

How can she climb trees, asked Annie.

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

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

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

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

The end of the tale

Stan went down town to buy needles and other unlikely reminiscenses

cat looking

On Monday morning Stan had to go to the shops in the centre of town to buy some special easy threading needles for his visually-otherwise wife Mary.Somehow,most puzzlingly,she had lost all of the eight packs he had bought for her in the last year.He had suggested letting his mistress next door do the hemming and stitching.But Mary was determined even though sometimes she took 14 minutes just to thread a needle.But she was very patient.One might almost say she was saintly but he did not want her to get conceited so he kept his thoughts to himself.
Now what shall I wear.? Stan thought over-anxiously.
He had O.C.D now and then… depending on what was happening in his lifw
People no longer dress up to go down town instead they dress down to go up to the town,in a very real sense.
The art of living is to choose the most simple solution to any problem and Stan recalled he only had some navy trousers,some white and a few colored shirts and one light teal colored jacket.
He chose a coral colored shirt and looked in the mirror..
I look wonderful, he thought very humbly.
Why has God kept me so youthful?
Surely not so I can seduce more women?
We know God may be merciful to scissors,or is it sinners?
Well,let’s just say God can be merciful but for some reason,we never know till it’s too late whether it’s to us.
More haste,less speed,he conjectured.
Or is it, More waste,less feeds?
He stood in the hall combing his hair with a tortoiseshell comb and brushing it with a large nail brush
He looked again narcissistically at his image.[I sure can spell.]
His amber eyes glowed like neon lights on the main road to Knittingham in winter.
His dark hair looked very full for his age.
His teal jacket had been well pressed by the dry cleaner,
Jason Weizzmen-know-all
And his coral shirt was new as Mary had been out buying him more clothes lately.She had grown tired of seeing him in one solid color,especially grey or brown.
His navy trousers were a bit old but quite alright for Knittingham.

6010299_f260
As he gazed into the mirror he began to feel odd.Then he saw Emile
who was standing on the chest of drawers behind him performing a dance.. solo!
Why are you dancing,Emile? Stan asked politely.
I am amused by seeing you gazing into the mirror for so long,
If you don’t hurry it will be lunchtime before you get to the Needle Shop.
Alright,growled Stan hoarsely.
At least I don’t wear make up!
Now there’s a thought…maybe I’d look better…what shade of foundation would suit me?Would I need lip balm and perfume?
Hurry up,said Emile unkindly.
More taste less greed.
What does that mean?asked Stan.
If you taste the food and eat slowly you will enjoy it more and thus need less.
Very clever,Emile.Shall I buy you some cough sweets in the pet shop.
No,I want some codeine linctus,Emile answered.
I want to go high,high.
I want to reach the sky…hi.
what will I do when my love is away
Will I be happy on my own?
Lend me your ear and I’ll sing you a song
I’ll try not to sing out of tune!

My God,Emile.Whatever has happened to you?
I blame the old chalk and opium medicine someone spilled on my breakfast.
Well,go and lie down but drink some milk first.

At last Stan got out…it had taken him two hours to get ready.
I wonder if I’ve got body dysmorphic syndrome,he conjectured emotionally
At the bus stop there stood Annie their neighbour.
Hi,Stan,where are you going.
I’m buying sewing needles for Mary.
I can lend her some,she shrieked.
Well,she has to use special ones nowadays.
Oh,so she does.I forget as she looks normal but is in fact suffering constant trouble since her Vitreous-vasectomy.. or was it hysterectomy or vivacity?.
Well,never mind.You know she’s not normal.
Who is normal?
Let’s just assume we will recognise it when we see it,he whispered warningly.
This bus is very late.I wish there was a proper seat here..my knees hurt.
I hate this plastic seat.Why has the wooden one gone?
Apparently the council are afraid of homeless people sleeping on them.
Well,everybody is at risk of homelessness with this economic crisis,They should let them sleep here.They are so cruel.
Anne shouted in a fury.
No,beggars can’t be losers,he responded.
Very true,she replied,
As they have nothing so they can’t lose it.The more you have,the more you fear losing it.
This bus is very,very late,I wish I had a horse or is it an horse?
A goat would be ok.

Speed bonny goat like a word someone flung..
Over the page to Fly.

Anne burst out laughing so her face was as red as her coat from Artigiano.Her blue tights were a perfect contrast and also matched her lipstick.
At last the bus came.They got on board and the driver called out,
You both look very merry!
Too many looks create more wrath,Stan replied warninigly.
Well, why dress up if you want no attention.the driver gloated.
Hello,darling, he said to Anne,Are you free tonight,babe?
Why? she murmured,I have two tickets for the Rolling Stones and no woman to take! he replied boastfully.
Now,if it were the Rolling Bones,I might be interested.
Your wish is my command he muttered,
I have my smart phone here,I’ll see what’s on elsewhere.
He kept trying but the virtual keyboard was playing up again.
Eventually the passengers got annoyed and asked him to start the bus.
As I’m half an hour late,I should be coming back now so I’ll do a U turn and go back to the terminus.
But we want to go into town,every one howled.
There’s many a blue word spoken as a jest,sang the driver.
Stan said,Please open the door,we shall dismount here.
Crikey,you don’t half talk posh,said the ,driver.
He leaned over and gave Anne a French kiss.
Now look here,Stan said,leave her alone.She’s my mistress.
Cor blimey said the driver,who are you,King Henry the Eighth?
I say,Stan,I can see Mary.It must be tea time.
Stan ran into the house and put the kettle on..then he made a pot of tea.
Hello! said Mary.
Did you get my needles,Stan?
I’m so sorry,Mary.I’ve had such a busy day,I never got into the town.
And where is my supper.
I’m afraid it’s still in the womb of time!
I see,it’s chick pea dahl and brown rice again or egg on toast.
But I’m not complaining.Keeping house is a big job.I know it only to well.
So they sat with Anne and Emile,who even had his own cup and saucer now.They were soon drifting into a light doze.Going down town is such hard work nowadays.

Stan wants to go to a class

5329053_f520Stormy weather

Stan was thinking of going to an Evening Class.He had got a brochure from the public library on Saturday but there was not much in it.As he was sitting in his conservatory brooding restlessly over this he saw a looming shape pass by.It was Annie his neighbour wearing a big rucksack.
“Annie,you are usually dressed in a fashionable and stylish even modish manner.Whence the rucksack?”
“Oh,well,you’re out of touch.Rucksacks are the new handbags according to Prada.”
“Is Prada that young lady who has just taken the flat over the florist’s?”
“No,you nincompoop,Prada is an Italian Fashion Company”.
“I think Prada would make a good name for a cat or Prado if he was a male cat.What do you think,Emile?Would you like to be called Prado?”
“Definitely not.” miaowed Emile loudly.”Prado is too full of consonants for me.I don’t like saying “P.”
“He sayeth not P but doeth it,just as the Prophet foretold” Stan murmured merrily to Annie.
“What are you doing?” she asked him pointedly.
“I’m choosing an Evening Class but there are not many on offer.I wanted to learn Pilates but maybe I’m too old and stiff!”
“We could go to a private class in the Conservative Club.”
“I can’t go in there,not even to learn Pilates.”
The doorbell rang.It was their local M.P. Andy Pandy.What a shock.
“Good evening,Sir.”
“It’s only 10 am,”Stan said rudely.”Wait I want to record your words.”
“Why is that?”
“I may be able to sell them on-line.”
“Oh,no.That’s unlikely.I’m only a glove puppet!”
“That wasn’t what you said before the Election” Stan whispered to him.
“Well,I didn’t realise then.I thought I was a human being.”
“Like David Cameron?”
“Yes,only I don’t speak as poshly as he.”
“But do you think he is a glove puppet too?”
“Yes,definitely.I’ve seen the Hand that manipulates him.”
“Why don’t you leave?”
“I have thirty children to support.”
“How come you have so many?”
“Oh,it’s quite easy if you have plenty of lovely lady friends and …”
“I’m talking about responsibility.You are a member of the Establishment.”
“Well,once I was a rebel.But a Famous Rebel will eventually be knighted.”
“So I’ve noticed.” {He’s thinking of Sir Michael Jagger who is 68 plus]
“Why was Lucian Freud not knighted?Surely he was a deserving artist.”
“He was more of an Observing Artist.He Observed what he shouldn’t!”
“What was that?”That very large people are beautiful like rocks in canyons and caves.and the Queen looks like an old East Ender.”
“Do you think she’s partly Jewish?”
“Well,everyone in the world has a little Jewish blood!”
“So the Queen does.Does she know?”
“Well it doesn’t matter whether she knows.I’m just interested.After all she’s the Head of the Anglican Church, a branch of Christianity,so as Jesus was 100% Jewish it would be an advantage to her.She might be a distant relation to him.”
“I never knew Jesus was Jewish!” “Oh,yes I remember now.And the shepherds with their flocks….was that not here in England?”
” No and King Herod wasn’t English.Herod’s never been a very popular name anywhere really.But you know everybody in the world is probably slightly English.Just listen to them talk!They all speak the lingo.”
“But what about that song “Jerusalem” by Blake?”

“Was not Jerusalem builded here,in England’s green and pleasant land?”

“He was speaking in symbols or metaphors.”

“Why didn’t he learn English? Cymbals are just for banging.”
“Well, he was English!”
“He was crazy.That’s typical English trait.”
“Yes,we love eccentrics.”
“Do you know any?”
“Not as such,no. But I’d love one if they lived next door”
“Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather when I heard that.”
“Well,Annie is a bit eccentric.Stan thought.”She’s murdered her husband and seduced me in front of the wife.No,she’s just got borderline personality disorder.I wonder who invents all these new mental disorders.Maybe I could invent some.”
“Well,the mind doctors need to earn money.”
“True…. send them to Afghanistan.Then we’ll see who has PTSD!”
“Now,there’s a thought!”How about David Cameron for starters?”

Stan fell in love with his cat

Sleepy afternoon

Stan fell asleep in front of the roaring fire.Emile lay across his lap.Emile was so limp he looked like a wet towel 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 th wrong one!
He also spent quite a lot of time giving statistics lessons to pensioners and making love with his blonde and busty 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 Annette 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 Annette’s oven.She has two so it was quite easy.
Mary was not jealous of Annette 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 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 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 too 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 cat.
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

 

Emile’s picnic

Source: Kathryn

Emile has a picnic

Stan was washing the big new car while his dainty wife Mary packed a picnic basket.He was already feeling very hot, even bothered.Emile, his cat and friend, was sitting on the wall overseeing the car wash.

Would you like to come,Emile?Stan murmured.

Yes,I’d love too but what can I eat? Emile murmures

How about a tin of sardines?Stan asked tenderly.

Do they have those little keys on the side?I find them hard to open.

So it was you,Emile!I thought Mary must have sleep walked and tried to open a tin.If you get good at all these tasks nothing will be safe.

I tried to open that tin of gooseberries.Emile confessed sheepishly

You must be a fool,Emile!Why gooseberries?Stan said  with bull like tact

They looked so nice but they were full of pips.Tinned gooseberries are not so tasty except made into a jelly

.Can we take some jelly on the picnic?Emile continued

Well,it would be lovely but it might melt! Stan informed him knowingly

OK I’ll settle for a tin of sardines,the cat mewed politely.I’ll have a gooseberry yoghurt instead

.Since when did cats have puddings,Emile? Stan enquired

I always envied you,so I thought I’d ask.Emile said sensibly

Why,you are almost human,Emile.Next you’ll want a suit and some brogues. Stan teased him

I’d prefer sandals,responded the striped cat sensibly

Why is that,my dear,Stan asked lovingly.

So I can still scratch people or milk them when on their laps.Emile admitted

You naughty cat!You”ll have to give up scratching if you want to become more moral.

Yet..What is a cat without its claws?

What is a wasp without its sting?

What is a woman without her temper?

What is a man without……………..

Have you finished,Stan? called Mary,thus preventing the author from revealing what Stan thought was masculine just in the nick of time

Yes,my dear.I just need a rug for Emile to sit on …or how about this old tablecloth? Stan shouted.

That’s my new apron,Mary confessed.

!New..it looks as if you’ve cleaned Buckingham Palace including the chimneys! Stan said sarcastically

That just shows you how hard women work and to think I could have been working on my new book”Wittgenstein’s Hats!” Mary moaned

I didn’t know about that, Stan said in a puzzled voice

.Well,I’ve done four on his cats……… so..I moved on to hats

Did he wear a hat? Stan asked her curiously

That is the problem.Although Jewish he was raised as a Catholic in Vienna.And Catholic men take off their hats in church.Mary said with an air of certainty rare in women

Well,that is  just politeness.Stan remined her

Yes,but Jewish men must wear a hat all the time.It’s part of their code.It shows respect for God.Mary had to tell him

Do they wear a hat in bed? Stan asked her cheekily

I believe not as it could drop off and frighten somebody.Mary remarked with wisdom

Well,tell me more about the book.Stan said kindly

It’s obvious to me that the source of much of Wittgenstein’s severe anxiety and guilt was his conflict whether/when to wear a hat said Mary proudly as she was the first academic to  spot this

.Did he solve it? Stan asked her.

I have evidence to show he wore a night cap!I have many photographs, his wife admitted

Where did you get those from?Stan quizzed her politely

Well……….I have friends who are into photography……..And without photos the book would not sell,she told him nervously

How about cartoons,mewed Emile.Alas,no-one was listening.Wait for the book!

The end.

 

I owe it to myself

Love your neighbor in her bikini:A sinful tale

Beware of getting into hot water in your bikini
A few weeks after Annie moved into the  lovely house next door to Stan,he met her when he was seeing his wife off to work.
Why does Mary not have a car? Annie enquired suspiciously.
She is trying to keep slim,Stan told her.
Well,she’s not been very successful,Annie said scientifically.
She might be much fatter than she is now if she drove a car,he stated ponderously
That’s true,muttered Annie loudly.I am your new next door neighbor.
Yes,said Stan,I have seen you sunbathing in the garden in your bikinis.
How come? she asked merrily yet sternly
There’s a big hole in the fence.He said
Is it legal to look at women through a hole in the fence?asked Annie.I know it’s illegal to look into their bedroom windows.
Is it really,asked Stan nervously,I had no idea.How about women looking at men through a round hole in a fence or square one?
Oh,they are not  very keen to do that,she lied charmingly.
Well,said Stan,clearing his throat,I think I owe it to myself to tell you that I love you.
Wow,you’re quick off the mark,the lady said saucily.What do you mean,you owe it to yourself? she continued in a puzzled tone.
Nothing,said Stan,I could not think how to word it.I mean I wish to unselfishly love you and admire your ripe body and your cute sense of color.I love your teal trouser suit.And you sing so well in the bath.I can hear you.
You didn’t mean you owe it to yourself to take advantage of me?
Not unless you want me to take advantage of you,the gallant old man informed her kindly
And you can take advantage of me, he said I make cakes and biscuits,wholemeal bread and I am training my cat Emile to do statistics on an i pad.
How extraordinary,Annie whispered.I didn’t know cats had an “I.” let alone pads.
Well,they have pads on their paws,he informed her intelligently.
True,she said,but where are their I’s?
Where are our I’s ? he responded in a manner to rejoice the heart of Mary Midgley or Susanne Langer two of Stan’s favourite writers on philosophy,logic,symbols and ethics.
Not that he practised the Ethics but he liked to know what he was doing wrong.It’s more fun that way.If you sin,sin big!
A man who seduces women merrily one after the other may have no idea it might be wrong.Neither might the women.Why is it wrong? Surely it’s better than killing people,making war  or leaving the lid off the jam all night so the wasps get into the jar?
Still,not many men get the chances that Stan got.No-one suspected this kindly,handsome practising Catholic was a womaniser despite his blue beard,green eyes,white skin and red hair.And his slim yet strong figure clad in navy trousers and white shirts all the year round.Maybe his wife did but she preferred to read Aristotle in bed and dream about mercury… those little silver balls,so cute!
Well,as we know,Stan is about to make Annie his mistress but in such a cold wet summer,where can he take her to do the deed?The shed?The public library? Cafe Nero?
I owe it to you not to tell you yet.That will give you time to think of a solution for this sweet old man and his naughty but nice neighbor. Like,how about the confessional in the local Church?
Whatever next?

I owe it to myself to keep it secret as you may come along and spoil the fun.
Stan went indoors and washed up in the boiling hot water he kept by him constantly as he owed it to himself to be ready to make a hot drink at any moment he fancied and by gum,he did fancy like no man has ever fancied before.So his daemon tells me.

Sc

 

Moon flowers

How to get fatter without eating your heart out.

How to come  to a dead end in your own lifetime.

How to flow round the bends and up the hills

How to grow into a bitch.

How to become mentally elastic.

How to grow alma maters in pots or gro- bags.

How to grow moon flowers on earth without magic

How to distract the opposite wrecks.

How to enjoy tracks in bed.

How to make new bases for your sorrows

The Stan saga.. a letter from Mary,author of “Wittgenstein’s cats”

Source: Kathryn

A letter

The Pilchards.

23,Sweetnames Avenue

Knittingham

Near Nottingham.

England

Dear Jane

Hope you are keeping well in this unusually cold spring weather.

Stan has had flu.It made him so bad tempered and waspish

that I took up the Duraglit polish and got him to polish all the brass,

except the front door knob, as that doesn’t come off.

Mind you,it made the bedroom smell odd… a mistake,perhaps.. so I sprinkled lavender oil around.

He seems to get thinner and I seem to get fatter.

So our average w eight remains constant.

What a relief.I’d like to be weighed as a married woman.Can you believe this..

I’ve got chilblains! It’s those dratted blood vessels of mine.

Still,I polished some old plum colored leather boots  and wear them in the house.

We seem to be doing polishing frequently here.. boots,furniture,apples.

How is your new book “Nonsense:A.N.Whitehead and Lewis Carroll” coming on?

Hope it’s progressing….to a nonsensical but true ending

I’ve got a new book of poetry coming out in April [from Polar bears publishers]

It’s called,”An unpolished performance.”

My fourth book on Wittgenstein‘s cats is almost finished.

And the publishers can’t wait for the photographs…I’ll get a friend to do those for me!!

It gives me a change from all that polishing.

I’ve begun to talk to myself out loud…. in the street.Just seeing if I can still do my old Lancashire accent.

I suppose it might  worry people but no one has said anything as yet.They may be afraid.

“That which is unsaid can,nevertheless,still be heard.

Stan is still involved romantically with Anne, our next door neighbor.

I can’t blame him as chilblains and Wittgenstein not very romantic.

When I think of how we used to be,it makes me smile and feel sadness too.

I wonder if I can find someone new for a romance,myself… someone with Asperger’s syndrome

possibly…as I’ve just been diagnosed.It’s quite common in mathematicians.It may be an advantage in concentrating a lot

I need a boyfriend with weak eyes as my clothes are all full of moth holes and I’m damned if I’m going to buy new ones.

I can’t see well enough to darn but I’ve sewn the holes up neatly thus giving a strange pleated effect to my clothes.

On my merino wool knitted trousers, one hole was right on the ass.It looks now as if I’ve been shot in the rear…

but I can’t see it.So it does not exist.Sometimes in the past I would iron on those motifs like

butterflies…but I think it would look odd having a butterfly just there…. or indeedanything else like wild ros

I could make a little sign saying”Keep clear,from my rear.This is a hole where a moth scored a goal.”

Still,not many people are going to look there now I hope…. I seem to have stopped knitting but am still drawing.

Meantime I’ve just ironed some of my winter clothes as it’s dank and  chilly and am planning to iron all my pink and blue knickers now as I believe it kills any germs left when you wash at 30 deg.I got those colours in case I should

change sex or is it gender?I wonder if I should iron the sheets?Could I do it while they are on the bed?

I don’t wash them much as it wears them out and me too. I am going to take up baking again because Stan is getting so thin.

I fancy a Russian cheesecake as it had a lot of protein in it.

I have a genuine Russian cookbook and also am waiting for a delivery of a

Jewish cookery book as I have lost mine..no it fell down onto my head last week

God only knows where that came from.

but I believe there were good cheesecakes as Jewish cooking has much in

common with Russian,perhaps because once many Jews lived in Russia.I just

made friends with one here….he is charming and like me he hates golf.

I have got almost all the Penguin cookery books ever printed but mislaid a

few.In fact it’s quite hard to get into the kitchen

with all these books on the shelves.And a little food.I was comforted to read that the parent’s of John Burra,the artist,

had books piled every where in their large house….and he was very untidy too.

So all I need is talent and practice and I’ll be an artist.

After all,anyone can be untidy but not everyone will practice their Art.

I’d like to practice the arts of love.They say you should love your neighbor as yourself,

but personally I prefer the neighbor or even the milkman to myself.

Meanwhile I’m happy with Emile our cat and my 500 photos of Wittgenstein. I shall make Stan a lemon sponge pudding.

That is the love he wants…Food.”If music be the food of love

I’ll cohabit with a pure white dove.

And while he coos and sings for me.
I’ll try not to :fall out of the tree,
Get stung by a bee,
Have psychotherapy
Make more enemies,
Let my thought free,
Hurt my knee.
Let moths frighten me.

 

Well,time for some tea.

Now Jane, please write to me soon.

I love to see your so strangely beautiful handwriting alluring me to open the letter and to hear about Whitehead and Cambridge and all the weird dons. I hope it’s not too damp and cold there near that river.

Keep warm and make a note of any intriguing happenings to relate to me. And anything beautiful you can see or hear.I hope Edward is writing regularly..where is he doing his research now… did you say Stanford?Maybe you should install Skype..then again,perhaps not as you would have to wash your hair too much… and comb it too…perhaps we could wear wigs.

Do write soon,dear one,Love always,Mary.

 

Do you have trouble with surds,too? I can’t creak sometimes.

7843588_f4c16606c2_l

And no,I never made a Freudian slip in my wife,said Fred.
I am always very careful when I leak.
How about you, he asked…
Me,not even wild meadowplants could drag a herd out of me,I told him cautiously.
So neither of us ever takes a miss ever? he whispered.
I think you have made a terror,I said.
It was not really spurious, he said.I’ve always had a problem with surds all my life… how about you?
Surds are ok,it’s insolubility that troubles me.
And with that we partied on reasonable worms

Satan in Cromer; the true story

 Cromer pier

http://www.edp24.co.uk/news/photo_gallery_people_rescued_from_cromer_pier_as_spectacular_waves_smash_into_seafront_1_3081997

Alfred and Dora Smith, who had just taken possession of a solid gold powder compact,  bought from  dear old Stan  ,went down to Cromer so  Dora could go to Boots, She wanted a new and more suitable shade of pressed powder to put into the compact.
Satan was getting cheesed off as Dora had the compact shut away in her handbag of purple and red leather with a yellow strap.Since she otherwise dressed entirely in black the vivid colours did not seem quite so dreadful.
You may disagree, but I believe a coloured leather handbag is a definite must for any woman nowadays.Where else can one hid one’s log tables,kindle reader,tampons, set squares,kleenex,rulers,pens and other female items?
Satan ,not being divine.did not know where Alf and Dora were off to but he was hoping that he might get a peep somewhere.Maybe in the ladies loo in some pub or other,hopefully one full of women of an intriguing type with French underwear worn as outerwear in the late style of Madonna.
Inside Boots,Dora found the Boots Number 7 beauty counter and selected some compressed powder in  a color called vanilla rose beige.Since everything was 3 for 2 she bought some lavender mascara and some pink coral moisturised lipstick.After paying the bill,she and Alf ran outside..
My,it’s as hot as hell in there,Dora cried.Satan was pleased to hear that but he had no idea where they were but felt he was near home.
Alf suggested a walk down the pier to get some fresh air.

Facing directly North, Cromer pier is wide open to the pure winds from Siberia… but today a SW wind was blowing and despite a black cloud looming the day was bright and warm for winter in England
As the game, old but vital couple reached the end of the pier and turned to look at the North Norfolk coast line they regretted not wearing their Harris tweed coats.. a strange chill came over England that afternoon…. a hint of evil darkened the air with menace.David Cameron must have been up there in Burnham Market where the rich have holiday homes.
Shall we sit down for a minute, said Alf to his stunningly made up wife.
You sit down,I am going to look at the sea.Dora said sweetly
Dora stood at the edge of the pier looking,at the waves crashing below… and above too!She wondered how her new short hair style was standing up to the weather and on an impulse she opened her bag and took out the gold compact so she could use the mirror to check.
Holding it n her left hand she flicked it open expertly at an angle of precisely 60 degrees.
Who was more surprised…Satan,who rarely saw faithfully married,virtuous British women, or Dora who had never before seen a demons,let alone Satan,I leave to your imagination.
Dora gave a loud shriek and threw the compact overarm high above and over the metal railings.Being solid gold it sank gently to the sea bed amongst the pearls and coral and a few suicidal fishermen’s remains.
Alf,Alf,she called..raucuously
What is it, my pet?
There was some fiend in that mirror.What a sight! I am afraid I have accidentally bowled it overarm it into the sea.Like you showed me  to when playing cricket
You stupid twit.I paid £500 for that.I broke the bank
Did you really?You are so sweet.I wonder if we should call 999? Dora called
I doubt if they could dive into the cold sea…for a powder compact.Alf replied
How about for the poor devil inside it? she continued.
Suddenly a heavy storm,one might say a hurricane blew up and the game couple were almost washed away by rain and giant waves which ran into the air on either side of the pier.Clinging to each other they stumbled towards the promenade some distance back.
Let’s go and have some tea and muffins,suggested Alf  thoughtfully.
Suddenly the sea swept onto the promenade and for a moment it seemed as if the two old folk would be washed away but luckily they were both very obese and their weight anchored them to the ground.
Well,it’s not quite what we expected,but somehow I am relieved.Dora said
I was nervous about owning such a luxury item.I feel I am addicted to Max Factor Pancake makeup in plastic compacts she prattled merrily
Alf was dozing and in his mind he saw a host of pancakes with little faces each wearing full makeup
How can I eat these,he muttered.They seem like human beings… they look quite charming.His head fell back and he began to snore.
Dora was happy enough watching canoes go by carrying people along the promenade and into the old town.What a dear place Cromer is,she thought,as the lifeboat passed the cafe window full of terrified people..What a dear old place to live in.

Stan takes Satan on holiday Part 1

6429586_72f5d1321d_mStan met Satan in his mirror many times.And it was obvious the poor devil was terribly depressed.He said he was no longer needed as humans were more wicked than he ever was.Stan wondered how to help without doing anything wicked.
He went into the bedroom and looked into the mirror.At first he thought it was empty but the he saw Satan asleep in a ball.
Hi there,he called.Satan woke up.
Hi Stan.
Stan said
I’ve got an idea.How would you like a drive to Sheringham?
I dunno,I feel too depressed.
I think you need a change said Stan.He picked up Mary’s solid gold powder compact and opened it.What a lovely scent,he murmured,closing his eyes and remembering all the times Mary had taken it out to put on more lipstick or powder her nose when they were out dancing.
Now,see here.I have mirror here.If you can get behind this,I’ll put you in my pocket and Emile will sit by me in the car.
Without a pause Satan leaped into the gold compact and Stan could see him in the mirror.He popped it into his front pocket until he realised the devil could not see out.
He opened it and placed it in his pocket but with the mirror sticking out.
They drove off in Stan’s old Triumph Herald which was still functioning well.
Sat Nav,said Satan… is that how to find me…
No.it’s satellite navigation.It gives me a route to the seaside.Wherever I want to go
Bloody waste of money…what is wrong with a road Atla.?
It’s all progress.Stan told him.We must keep up or we will be thought lacking
By whom? answered the old devil
All of a sudden a police car came by and asked Stan to stop.
Why are you sending signals with that mirror?the police officer enquired..
To be continued

Poem written using an automated love poem service

Images made  by me using Microsoft Paint program old version
cats and newspapersYour skin glows like an old lemon which someone left in the fridge for two years or more.
It blossoms as rudely as the nastiest weeds in springtime.
My yearning heart rises to your thunderous voice and leaps like a pig at the whisper of your name,Hardknut.
The evening ascends like a lion riding  on a great Kentucky Fried Chicken Wing.
I am calmed by your old vests that I carry to clean  the car headlights with in fog
And I hold them  in my hand when I have run out of Kleenex tissues.
I am filled with dismay that I may need to dry your tears of shame with old worn out knickers

Yet you ignore mine as ever.You appear to forget I am a woman.

As my right eye falls  down onro my blue shawl,alas it reminds me of our unmade blue bed once more.
I shall not forget it for my self esteem is low and falling
and it’s a year since I changed the sheets.
In the hushed yet noisy night,I listen for the last tweets of the autumn and look forward to an icy winter of miscontent
sleeping with the cats on the internet highway
My overheated heart leaps into my  hot  green mouth.
My lipstick is fading away with shock.
I wait in the faint moonlight for your secret bank check
So that we may strive as one mad being
in search of a  golden ring
Symbolic of ambivalent married love that has passed its sell by date
But still has some intrigue remaining.
I never met anyone as dreadful,sweet and ugly as you.
I love you,Nameless.You are mine forever

Or so I believed foolishly..but I prefer a cat now.

cat2 alone

Emile’s nerve

IMG_Rosy nights 2

Stan was happy for a few moments when he woke up.Then he realized Emile
was not anywhere to be seen.Mary,his wife, had already gone out as she wanted to catch a very early train to London.She needed to visit the British Library.She urgently wanted to find evidence that Wittgenstein wore a hat in bed as this was an important idea in her new study “Wittgenstein ,guilt and hats.. a new theory”
Stan went searching around the house but Emile had vanished.Usually at 8 am he would be dashing about pretending to chase flies and giving a balletic performance worthy of Sadler’s Wells…
I wonder who Sadler was,Stan muttered as he filled the kettle with fresh cold water and put some Earl Grey tea into the teapot.
Then, a strange,uncanny feeling came over him.He looked up and there was Emile crouched on top of the highest cupboard in the kitchen.
Emile,he cried,What are you doing up there?
I’m training to be a spy,Emile replied nonchalantly.
But how could this kitchen be of interest to the Intelligence Services?
Well,the cat murmured,I am practising hiding.Hiding is very useful.
You gave me a terrible shock,Stan said.I had this feeling I was being watched.I wondered if it was paranoia.Then I saw your gleaming eyes.
So,I need to get some dark glasses,Emile whispered.
No,I would still feel that horrible feeling…. someone is staring at me.And how were you planning to get down from that high ledge?
I’m not sure,the cat mioawed faintly
Well,the first lesson for a spy or even a detective is,
Never go anywhere unless you can make a quick exit,
As it is,I may have to ring 999.
Just then the front doorbell rang.There stood a man with a white beard and moustache.
Hello,he said holding out his hand in a pleasant manner to shake Stan’s. hand
I am called Peter Fried.I have just moved into one of the new flats across the road.I am a psychoanalyst.I have taken on another flat to use as a consulting room and a waiting room
A psychoanalyst! Do we need one round here? Well,Good morning,I have just brewed some tea.Would you like to join me?
How kind,said Peter.
I say,old bean,did you know there’s a cat on top of your cupboard?
Yes,that is Emile.Today he has surpassed himself in wickedness.How I will get him down I don’t know.
My training analyst used to say,What goes up must eventually come down.
That seems a bit weird for an analyst.To what was he referring… something to do with sex I don’t doubt.It’s all sex with you people.
Yes, some of us are very peculiar…that’s why we enter the profession.
What I meant was,if Emile got up he can get down.How did you get up,Emile?
I leaped,answered the tense animal.
Can you leap down?
I’ve lost my nerve,replied the poor creature pathetically
Well, as it happens,being a therapist,I always carry few spare nerves with me.I’ll climb up this stepladder and throw you a new nerve.
And without waiting,Peter climbed the ladder.He put his hand into his pocket and pulled out a golden thread.
Here you are,Emile,Catch this in your claw.
Emile caught the golden thread and wrapped it around his neck.
Can you leap down now? enquired Stan.
Emile leaped down and landed with a splash in a bowl of hot soapy water in the sink.
It’s a good thing I wasn’t making chips,laughed Stan anxiously
Come here,Emile and let me dry you on this old towel.He put Emile
in front of the fire and he and Peter drank mugs of Earl Grey tea.
I have got a mistress,Stan told Peter.
Why tell me? Do you want therapy for your inner conflicts?
Oh,no.I’m far too old for therapy or indeed for a mistress.I was wondering of you would perhaps be interested …she just likes to spend a little time with an intriguing man.. talking, drawing graphs, interpreting data,making tea,calling the ambulance.. you know…she is most charming and intelligent company. When I give lectures on Statistics and Modern society she organises all the rooms and the chairs and so on..She likes our paramedic,Dave.and is always sending for him to mend chairs and open tins.
Is she not married?
No,her husband fell into the wheelie bin during the night and alas he was taken away with the rubbish.
That is a strange story.Are you certain it happened?
No,it could be he grew tired of her and ran away.Then she invented this story,
Well,this may be a quiet suburb but I can see there is plenty of material here for me to write my next book:
“Deceptive appearances and the fascination of apparent dullness.”
Oh,that sounds very unusual….please lend me a copy.
Well,I’ve never believed in true dullness.There is always a story hidden in every house and home.
See,I’ve just met you a man of 98 yet you have a wife, a mistress and a crazy cat.. and I’ve only been here for one day.Imagine what else I may discover here. after a few weeks
They heard a siren.
Oh,no!We’ve not even rung 999 and here is the ambulance…. Mary will be so angry..You see Dave is bisexual.
My goodness,are you having an affair with him. as well?
No way,shouted Stan.My life is tough enough already.He can be bisexual or even trisexual but I’m not interested.
What does trisexual mean,enquired Emile.
I have no idea but I thought it sounded good,admitted Stan.
Peter stood up.
I think I’d better go home and start to see my patients.It may calm me down.
Now .goodbye,Emile,Put your nerve somewhere safe.We don’t want you to lose it again.
Thank you,darling cried Emile.I think I’ve formed an erotic transference with you already.
Peter rushed out in terror.
Is it me or is it them?he wondered.
I thought it would be quiet here on the edge of Knittingham but I think now wherever you are there will always be something unexpected happening.But I hope Emile will not begin to follow me around.I shall have to buy a lady cat and then Emile might fall in love with her instead.So off Peter went whistling a Bach cello suite and wondering how to cope with life in a suburb.. clearly it was not as dull as he had imagined.Dullness… does it exist or was it merely invented?

fi

Mary wants a woollen vest

Dotty cats

Winter had almost come to Knittingham,yet owing to the late summer and wet autumn,many trees still had their leaves,,,,,,,,,,,some were even green.Stan and Mary were sitting in their mock Tudor cottage style kitchen eating muffins and honey.

Wow,it’s so cold,Mary remarked.Now,Mary I have told you before that Wow is not a word I expect to hear from such a highly educated person.Stan said wistfully

Bollocks,Mary answered in a tone not unlike the late Rose Nordloch,philosopher extraordinaire who was famed for her obscene talk.I am thinking of buying some woollen vests,she continued nastily.Good grief!

What is it, my darling Stan said nosily.Mary was looking at a catalogue of ladies clothing.

They are £39 each,she said wonderingly.If I get three it will be nearly £120 plus postage.

Can’t you just buy one and wear it all winter like the Tudors did,Stan demanded charmingly

I think it would get smelly,Mary answered benignly.We should get wool vests from the Government to save us from going to A and E with double pneumonia,she continued softly…Shall we mention it at the Labor Party meeting?

No,no,Stan cried,I want your lingerie to be a secret…
A woollen vest is hardly lingerie,she retorted…
Everything a lady wears under her dress is lingerie….bras,knickers,pantaloons,petticoats,vests,corsets,suspender belts…………………..But some lingerie is more sensual…Stan said wistfully,recalling the brown silk underwear Mary used to wear before feminism made most lingerie a No,No!
Anyway,Mary said,we are too old for sex….

but not too old to have a few fantasies,Stan thought… and woollen vests did not feature in his… he preferred lace and silk with a hint of perfume..

Emile came in and he too asked for a vest and some underpants… .. but suppose I wet them? he fretted as cats do

Well,you can’t have a nappy,Emile.Stan informed him courteously
I have no desire for such things,Emile mioawed angrily…where is my food?

Oh, yes… it’s in the fridge,said Stan.He took a large goldfish out of the fridge

Where did you get that from? Mary asked fearfully….Oh,that tom cat down the road knocked a fish tank over and he gave Emile one.

But they are pets!She shrieked…. ring 999.

Dave the bisexual paramedic strode in.

It’s Frank,the gold fish,said Mary.Is he dead?

He is not quite dead,Dave answered…get a bowl of rain water.He put Frank into the bowl and Frank began to swim…

Well, that’s a bloody miracle,Mary screamed…

Just call him Lazy Lazarus.Dave quipped…he was in suspended animation.. fish are very clever.Would you like me to clean out the kitchen or fetch in some coal for the scuttle?

Thanks but not today,Dave.We were just discussing vests.Do you wear one?

Oh,yes.he said, and I wear a short petticoat too.

Very wise,Mary informed him.Underwear keeps me warm.

And it makes me hot,thought Dave…. but he said nothing.He kept his sex life almost a secret.

Vests,thought Mary.

To buy or not to buy

That is my question

Mary gets worried

Mary was feeling a bit off colour.Then she found a scary looking thing on her neck…
Stan,she moaned,come here!
What is it my duck.Stan cried.Are you alright..
No,Mary replied,I just looked in the mirror.
Well,dear,you still look young to me,the dear old man replied… still I suppose it must be hard for someone who was o nce very beautiful.
No,it’s not that,she responded faintly.
What is it then?Did you see Satan?
Not directly,she told him gently… but I saw this funny looking thing on my neck…
Have your lovers been biting you,he enquired caringly.
Stan,I have no lovers.
I find that hard to believe,he replied.
I am your wife,she told him.
Are you really?I forgot…Well,if you’d like a lover I am ok with that.I am getting past it.
Well considering your behaviour you have not got a leg to stand on….
Mmmm, he murmured,I am a man,you see.
I know you are a man… I married you for that reason.
How kind.If I went in for a sex change op,how would you feel?
How would YOU feel she said.They won’t be wasting money on that any more.Why you have to wait 6 months for cancer ops.
Only if it is a “non-worrying cancer” which nevertheless
” must be removed before it invades the nearby structures” they reminded each other.
I am wondering if this thing which you claim is a love bite is in fact a cancerous lesion…
I know.I was wondering.And they’ve not done the first yet.
I think we should see the doctor.
I want to do more than see him.I’d like to speak to him.
What will you say?
Hello,you are my doctor,are you not?
That’s a bit pedantic..
Take a decco at this thing on my neck,which by the way is not a result of having sex with a vampire.
Do you always decide what to say before you go?
No,I usually write my concerns on a sheet of paper and hand it to him, being as I am a disordered  avoidant personality.
That’s a good idea as he hates people rabbiting on.
Does he?
Yes,he told me off for asking how he was!
How he was what?
That’s just what he said.I say, are YOU the doctor?
Just because two  people say the same thing it does not follow that  they are the same person.
But it is a strange coincidence… is it not?
Well,I suppose I’d better ring the surgery.
Hello, we are closed right now,Please go to Hell.The doctor has gone mad…
Did they really say that?
No, he can see you at 11 pm tomorrow in the woods…
I can’t wait…
Well,said Emile,you will have to wait.That’s what you always tell me…
Emile,you are a very intelligent cat.
Thank you miaowed the furry beast in a jolly voice.
May I come to the doctor’s with you.
Wait and see,said Mary rudely.I have a lot on my mind . I am getting too irritable . I might upset somebody.
A lot of people get irritable when stressed,said Stan
Yes, cats do as well, concurred Emile.. then they scratch holes in the carpet and gnaw the furniture….
That explains a lot,Mary said.I think you need a tranquilliser,Emile…. even cats can have nervous troubles…You may need therapy if we can afford it.Then you can study mentalising and read Peter Fonagy.What fun that will be,not.

Feeling blorgy

If you store plenty of words in a word freezer you will be able to write a poem or letter very rapidly.Alternatively,you can store some dried words in polythene bags in a cupboard and add some moisture like tears to them when you want to write.This gives you some information about our era; that we spend time now,preparing for a fictive future and if you do store words they may be out of date before you use them.
The best way to always have words at hand is to read a lot of novels and poems.Even reading newspapers can teach you new words.
You don’t need to make an effort to recall them.Your mind will remember the ones that are for you.
You might try inventing words.I have done that but I’ve not kept a list.Sometimes it’s for fun; sometimes it’s to fill a space..
I am feeling blorgy today.. I feel like writing a blog with a guy but could also mean having a blog orgy…. could we do that?
We did have a blog tea party once but having an orgy could be tough at a distance…Still,who knows? Keep me informed,please.
You recall a song,feeling groovy.. well put blorgy instead of groovy!

How Daniel met the lion:Bedtime tales

 

Free.-jpg

[image from arkadiansystems.com]

http://www.arkadiansystems.com/?p=1391

Daniel Spinnett was a newly  homeless man in a horrible  wealthy but cruel country called the Reblighted Kingdom.He had been married once but his wife often  used to hurl his hot dinner at him if he was a bit late home and she also had fourteen lovers into the bargain.When she was made Head of Uncivil Service UK he decided he was leaving her and hoped for a second chance and maybe a child as well with a gentler woman
At first he was truly happy in his new  commodious flat and also with  meeting women on the Guardian Solemates website but all too  soon his firm was affected by the recession and he ended up with no money to pay his rent ; his ex-wife was completely and utterly unsympathetic. though she was absolutely rolling in money and men or both at once!
He went to the Council to seek for cheap accommodation
I have nowhere to live.The rents in Lone-don are so high.. can I get a council flat?I am on job seekers allowance of £70 per week…
A council flat?The man behind the desk laughed sarcastically like a dying flea.
There ain’t no such anymore,mi duck…didn’t you know the Trying Lady sold them off.
Did you not build more using that money,he enquired courteously and logically. as was his wont
Sorry,chum, we spent it on wine, women and bling… gold watches,golfclubs,moats, you know
Daniel felt very upset so he set out to walk to Lightw.ebbs Forest a couple of miles away for a time of  green beauty andquietness…He fell asleep under am old oak ; he was nervously exhausted ,no doubt
When he woke up a huge cat was standing near him staring curiously
Hello, the cat said in a kindly but loud voice
Hello,I am Daniel from down the road
Well, the cat said,I’m a lion from the circus.We have escaped and we are living here in the woods.
But what do you eat? asked Dan.
Well,we forage around and we find quite a lot of food left out for house cats.. we also have learned to cook leaves and grass over a fire in a double boiler.
The lion smiled down at Daniel showing a light in his amber eyes
You look very thin.Why don’t you come with me to have dinner?
Daniel was  afraid of the lion but he had no alternative. in mind.
After a circuitous walk they reached the deepest,densest  most magical part of the wood.There were four lions,two tigers and four  leopards.
Is this our dinner,they cried excitedly as they gazed at Daniel.
No,this is a poor starving man with no home.
Well.lie down Dan and eat this leafy risotto..
Absolutely delicious,awesome, he cried greedily as he used his hands like a child with no table manners
Then the first lion asked Dan to come with him to his own den.
When they got there he said piteously
I have got a problem and none of the animals here  can help.I have got a piece of barbed wire stuck in my tail and I need a human with fingers to untangle it..
Daniel looked and there was about 12 inches of barbed wire which hit  and beat the old  lion as he walked or ran.Dan managed to untwist it and uuntangle it.He got some water from the stream and washed the lion’s backside where the barbs had cut into him..I have no Elastoplast, he muttered anxiously.The fresh air will heal it, said the lion gently….

And that was how Daniel came to be living in the lion’s den.
He says he prefers it to living with his dominating wife.
He certainly looks fitter than before and is considering asking for surgery to change into a lion on the NHS as there is a lady lion whom he has fallen in love with.No doubt lions don’t get married in church but they do love each other very deeply.
Just go to the forest and take a look next time you fall asleep.
Now the lions enjoy even better food because Daniel has  recipe books and unlike the lions,he can read.They found some old sauce pans at the recycling centre so he can do cheese sauce using milk from the sheep on the edge of the wood,
If you knew what went on in our many woods,you’d definitely get a big surprise..I can tell you.

A worm in therapy and other Freudian notions

The psychoanalysis of a worm

Home of worms
Wisteria aided by worms

Wisteria aided by worms

Blossom in September

I was planning to make a carrot cake till my mother told me:

  • Carrots don’t eat cake.What are carrots anyway? Why are they so picky?I have to eat all my food or I get punished by hunger pains.Are there worms inside me eating my food or biting me?Do worms have teeth?What is it they like about soil.

    Charles Darwin wrote a book about worms…

    So far I have not read it.

    Worms are the opposite of us.

    They never get angry or depressed as far as we can tell..

    How fortunate as to psychoanalyze a worm would be hard.

    Indeed could you tell a worm to lie on the sofa

    Or would you have to climb inside a plant pot next to the worm?

    As Wittgenstein might have said,

    If worms could speak we would not understand what they said.

    I don’t know,I think I can guess though…

    I have some experience …symbolically that is.

    Or is it metaphorically?

    Imagine a worm on your couch.

    Hmm,how are things going?

    Yurp,blurp!

    Well,that’s good.

    Werp,serp!

    Quite right,I am interfering with your transfernce.

    Hurpppppppp.

    Would you like a little soil?

    Mummmm

    Oh,dear…I should not have offered you anything.

    Daddddddd.

    Surely you don’t remember him?

    Herrrrrrrr.

    So your dad was a lady?

    Oh ,ahhh!

    Well,it takes all sorts.

    Glumb,glomb.

    I’m afraid your time is up.

    Tinnnnnggggggggg

    You want a minicab?

    Taaaaaaaaaaaaa.

    That’s £500

    Do you take plastic?

    No,only notes.

    Doh,ray,me

    I never knew worms could sing…

    Well,you do now.

 

The past:my old Lancashire way of talking

We always called people in the family,our so and so,our  dad, our mam,our Lizzie.

7749092_33278447d7_m

Why did dad die,our mam? Did God need ‘im,mam? What for?
Oh,be quiet our Kath an’ stop blatherin’ an’ ‘arpin’ on at mi like that…Am tired mekkin’ ye dinner an’ tea an’ our Annie’s commin’ too
Will we have petato cakes,mam?
Y’ll have nowt if ye keep on yappin’.
But,mam,I like talkin’. Why don’t you like it,mam?
Curiousity killed the cat.
No,mam it was you,You sent for that man from Vernon Street and ‘ad the cat and its kittens destroyed except fe our Ginger.
Now, stop tellin’ lies and do the washin’ up.
Am not tellin’ lies…A saw it
Ye’r a very naughty girl.. I’ll slap ye if ye don’t shut ye trap now.
Oh,Mam,don’t ‘it me. again..
Well,shurrup then.. do as yer told.. be a good girl.
Awlright,mam.Shall a wash up fe ye?
That’s right,yer a gud girl really.Just be#ave yerself and keep quiet.Ye nearly grown up now.A’ll show ye ‘ow to knit socks soon.. yr 9 now aren’t ye?
That I am,mam.Am a big girl
An’ ye brain’s too big…. go and mop the steps now and put the white stone on… it’ll be the toilet next.Clean it before grandad come

Letter litter

Longing to see you or any man with wits and a good appetite,Maria.
Hoping for a response to my email before the end of the world,Phil.
With my tested bad wishes,Anne.
I guarantee you will enjoy me if not yourself,Wendy.
I can’t speak yet but my IQ is 139 in the evening and 189 in the morning.. are you interested in statistics? I think of nothing constantly,Edwina.
For my desert island book I choose the Stanford Guide to Poetics as it is heavy enough to kill a bird..what do you think of us as a couple of nitwits? Jane.
I regret to inform you we have to split as I have become a lesbian over night… I had a dream,Christie.
Will you meet me in the lodge or shall we drown in those ghostly waves?Bill.
Please don’t write a poem as rhymes often cause offence.. and free verse causes havoc in the mind.. mine,that is,Tommy.
If you want to talk please phone somebody,your dear husband Ronnie.
If you are angry,please go out and find another woman.Goodbye,Dorothy.
I never trusted a man before i met you.And I should have stayed that way. but I went mad. yours icily,Tonia.
Why read a dictionary in bed with me?Are you lacking in word power or man power or just crazy? Your wife.
I know you have no feelings but can’t you take degree in acting? Your ex-lover.Jim
Why not just tell me the truth:there is no truth? Yours Enid.
I hate you now but I’m sure it will fade gradually as time goes by,Mia.
Why did you never eat meat on Sundays,bread on Mondays and leather on Tuesdays.. is it a new religion or just madness?love Minette.
Isn’t life overorganic? Ron.
God is not a thing,so the priest said… so he needs no dusting or polishing.. in fact he is completely invisible nowadays,Guthrie.
My analyst is so boring he’s like a dead fish;can I talk to you? Warmly Miriam.
I am feeling over mixed as I fell into the Kenwood Family sized cake makr by chance..I was drunk.Angela…do not bake me tonight.Thank you