After the unusual November sunshine, Mary was happy to discover her underwear was dry. She took it into the sitting room to fold up, ready to go into the drawer. Although, by nature, she was very untidy, she did try to keep a bit of order in her drawers. As she sat musing, with the pile of knickers and bras nearby, the door bell rang .Quickly she pushed the heap of lingerie under a large cushion and opened the door optimistically with a brave laugh and a rude cough There stood the Vicar with a beaming yet sultry smile, like a sun ray on Helvellyn in midwinter Do come in. I’ll make some fresh Ceylon tea, she murmured politely She carried in a tray of tea and cake and sat on the sofa, after placing the tray on a small table nearby. Why are you here, Father? she said anxiously as she sucked her thumb and bit her nails That was what God said to Elijah on the mountain, he anwered shyly.Or mayhe it was Jeremiah Well,I am not God but we all wonder now and then why we are here and think we should be somewhere else , like in bed with Leonard Cohen. That never worries me, said the Vicar.I can’t marry a Jew, Leonard Cohen or whoever. So if Jesus was here you would not let him marry your daughter? Even though he was the Son of the Most High? Definitely not.He wasn’t a Christian. And imagine what it would be like when he was never at home helping with the chores, but was fishing in the Sea of Galilee all day.And feeding hungry people.Not to mention getting killed….. But he must have been very loving, Mary muttered nervously God loves those who love themselves, cried the Vicar evangelically. Er, that’s a bit narcissistic,Mary told him .I’ve never heard anyone say it before. Well we ought to love ourselves or why should anyone else love us? For our love of them, our beauty, our minds, our kindness, our humour, our cooking or our money. Yet some a people are sadists and some are masochists. Well, that is unfortunate but, if they are willing, it seems acceptable to me.I won’t criticise them if they enjoy it Suddenly Annie, Mary’s neighbour,ran into the room in her dark purple velvet trenchcoat and shiny green vinyl boots;they matched her eye shadow and contrasted well with her terracotta lipstick and matching earrings, like small saucers from which Emile might drink milk Hi, she shouted.I’m here. Where is that lipstick from, Mary quizzed her pensively It’s by Lambscombe of Wigan and Ilkley. Annie revealed furtively I didn’t know they made lipstick,Mary answered.It’s an unusual colour Is it made from old bricks? I don’t know, Annie cried petulantly.She started to snivel and felt under the cushion in case Mary had left a hanky or tissue there. Her hand reappeared clutching a pair of bright blue lace knickers It was hard to decide who looked more embarrassed ,Mary or the Vicar What’s going on in here, Annie demanded though why should she have the right to know? I’ve never seen them before, the Vicar told her manfully Surely your wife must wear them, Annie said knowingly My wife wears underpants. Well, it takes all sorts,Mary mused.Is your wife a man ? I don’t know.We live a life of utter chastity.We have therefore had no children.We could have adopted I guess. What a waste, Annie whispered. You are a very charming and delightful person.~ I can’t believe you are innocent.You persuaded Mary to take off her knickers so you could play Mummies and Daddies but I came in at the wrong moment. Mary fainted silently onto the rug Emile mewed loudly and rang 999 on his Nokia1
In ran Dave, the fluid gendered, transsexual and well dressed paramedic.
What’s wrong ? Why has Mary fainted and why are there knickers on the floor? Is this an orgy? Why have you called me?
The Vicar went bright red with embarrassment and shock.
No, it seems Mary keeps a pair of knickers near her in case she runs out of tissuesDave made some Ceylon tea in the bijou violet and emerald green kitchen .He used Mary’s art deco mugs to serve it along with some chocolate biscuits he found under the sink.
Mary rose up from the carpet and asked where she was.
Still here,in the EU….until Scotland goes independent and Ireland gets more Troubles and how about Wales getting big idea?
Oh, for goodness sake, shut up.I am sick of Brexit cried Emile.
Where is my tea? Where are my sardines in olive oil?Where is my pudding?
Why did Jesus have no shoes? He had sent his soles to be heeled.
Why did Jesus not wear trousers? Jewish tailoring had not got that far 2,000 years ago.
Did Jesus drive a car? Drive a car what?
Did Jesus write letters? They had no Royal Mail then and soon we shan’t either.
Why did Jesus go to a comprehensive school? He wanted to widen his appeal.
Did Jesus iron his clothes? It was before the Iron Age.
Am I sure I’ll go to heaven? Stop going to sex shops and wearing red bras and you should be ok How about this atom bomb here in my pocket? Please, let it drop,I beg you
At the very edge of human sight Places we don’t go till in despair Love is waiting like a golden light
The world in panic, will the virus bite Noone ever said this world is fair At the very edge of human sight
Is there really danger of such might, Where our hidden fears emerged dark ,bare Love is fading where’s the sun, the light?
Panic like a virus can ignite Responses that are worse than germs out there At the very rim of human sight
Our defences that are usually adroit Now lie like dead young soldiers unrepaired Love is fading to a weaker light
The still,small voice is quieter than a bird The storm is passing by, will it be heard? At the very edge of human sight Love is dying,looks like candlelight
The dawn was apple-green,
The sky was green wine held up in the sun,
The moon was a golden petal between.
She opened her eyes, and green
They shone, clear like flowers undone
For the first time, now for the first time seen.
I remember all the humorous things we did Peering into windows lit by lamps Climbing cliffs then chased by geese and dog
Walking down from Redcar, sea so still After Saltburn Pier, the cliffs high jump I remember all the funny things we did
Wandering Whitby in a sea grey smog Eating a pork pie cut into lumps Climbing cliffs then chased by geese and dog
Old Hunstanton , white sands where we’d sit The wild spikes of the gorse spread out unclamped I remember all the colours,scents, and that
I feel the joy inside my heart is lit Woe is leavened by old nature’s stamp Climbing high then chased through mud by dogs
We see in shadows shades are not so stark In Studland Bay astonished by skylarks I remember all the humour and the love Climbing cliffs then caught by geese and God
We were chased by geese in Devon after climbing a cliff.No doubt chased by a man after we peered into his garden
message of peace and love towards others is at the heart of all of the major world religions. This is called The Golden Rule. It is the principle that you should treat others as you would like to be treated yourself, and it is found in one form or another in every major religion. Most religions prize forgiveness as a strength, and discourage people from taking revenge on those who have wronged them.
It is a truth totally unacknowledged by human beings that Professor of Linguistics and Word Mismanagement Rosa Benchez hates her own name.It is for this reason, she is keen to get married.Unfortunately ,her only suitor is Charlie Blogge. the well known TV biology expert Does Rosa Blogge sound any better, she asked her friend Amy Panicker. I find it hard to judge ,Amy answered. Ar least it’s not Bloggess. But there is another answer. Rosa and her cat Lucy looked up expectantly. Go on tell us! Change your first name.Have you got any other name besides Rosa? Don’t say Wooden or Iron,I beg you. Rosa looked surprised. In a way that is harder emotionally,she began, because that’s what all my friends and family call me They must have been dim to call you Rosa, Amy cried. Don’t say that.Who wants to be compared to a light bulb? Well ,who wants to be compared to rows of benches? Amy retorted. Well. grandad was called I.Ron Benchez. Rosa shouted.He was from the USA. Thank God ,he is not the President,Amy smiled I think that is stupid.The name of the person has no bearing on how they can lead a government. Well,how about Trump? Is it a real name or did they pick it from knowing the word trump from card games,Amy asked quietly I have no idea,said Rosa.I shall look it up now Wow, you have a new iPhone! Charlie gave it to me,Rosa confessed shyly, blushing dark pink You had better check whether he is tracking you, Amy told her anxiously.You never know what men will do nowadays. But can’t you track folk on Samsungs or Nokia Lumias? said Rosa in her mellow voice. I don’t think it is very romantic to give a lady a smartphone instead of some jewellery,Amy cried. You can sell jewellery but who wants a second-hand iPhone. As a matter of fact ,some old Nokias from the 90’s are now worth a few hundred pounds So if you have one keep it unless your home is already overflowing with collections of pens,watches old newspapers and cats like my friend Percival’s, Rosa retorted. Percival? what is his last name? Joyce.Rosa whispered.He is related to the writer James Joyce. Rosa Joyce…. how does that sound? Well as you know any word you keep repeating begins to sound odd and the same is true of names.Even the nicest name like Katherine With-Doubt begins to sound odd when delivery men ask you for it. Are you with doubt? one had asked her, she told me Who is without doubt? she had replied courteously. Who indeed said the clever Polish doctor working in the UK delivering stuff for Amazing,dot com.He lives round the corner: Thom Without-Doubt Thank God you are not called that. Amy asked Rosa if she could make a pot of tea.They sat in the old orange walled kitchen eating cream crackers and cheese and sipping hot tea. Lucy was eating some cat biscuits and suddenly had a good idea Why don’t you and I swap names, she mewed to Rosa with a loving smile. Do you know,said Rosa, I am so fed up with names I shall change mine to a number if we carry on like this Do you think 678 Benchez sounds any better,giggled Amy. I was thinking more of a name like Platonic form or pyramid How does Platonic Benchez sound. Or Platonic Blogge? And so ask all of us.
May Sunday again;
Hailstones rush sideways,
striking the windows
with small fierce blows.
In the gaps between
two white butterflies zig zag
like motorized wild flowers;
One colour,two forms. I see now
two aspects of Nature:
hard,destructive,stern;
frail and delicate.
Both are coloured the same white.
Hard to tell sometimes which we are seeing
But we can all distinguish between a gentle touch
and a bitter blow.
As the day dips into night my heart falls too.
In these dreams I look for the lost
in the snowy steppes and the ices of the heart.
A white petal falls.
Cherry trees bloom again
We sense the sacred in these peaceful walls
Yet men have died in places that appal
Women too and children then unborn
Fell into cold dark earth in lands forlorn
As our weapons grow, our hearts are hard
The people live in Gaza behind bars
The water all polluted as taps drip
Is this war or is it vengeance fit?
In Britain, it’s the poor who lose the war
As it was when Jesus Mary bore
Yet here are clerics blessing marching bands
A military show for all the land
The genocide in Europe of the Jews
The self destructive actions of the proud
The fields of France filled sick with blood and bone
Who are we to cast judgemental stones?
The War’s not over when the fighting stops
The soldiers and the tortured suffer shock
The widows and the parents all bereaved.
The unborn children hover in unease
We let the prisoners out from camps of death
But who would take them in or take their path?
The injuries will travel down the years
As still we fight and still we live in fear
It’s Europe’s grasp and greed which was the cause
Of death in Gaza, Syria, in long wars
Yet we judge we are more civilised
When we self defend with bitter lies
He wanted some companion during the night but nobody was able to be with him.
I’m sure that some of us have had a similar experience.
So would a helper have said to Jesus
Why don’t you listen to some music I know the radio has not been invented yet but you are God…. So make yourself a radio and listen to music
Why don’t you turn your mind away from fear of death I’m thinking about signing up for an art class,myself.
I know that Jews can’t worship images but there’s no harm in making some images was paint or pastels.
It might lift your mood..
Now Jesus, have you drunk enough water today? Have you had a proper meal?
(Well they had the last supper I believe.)
Don’t you think we should all go home and go to bed and have a good rest and forget about this event that’s going to happen?
Now Jesus what you need is a good holiday.
You know it’s not so far to Cyprus and it would be a break from living in this occupied territory.
The Romans have a lot to answer for.
And would Jesus have lost his temper and called out to the disciples
Satan get thee hence.
Then somebody will just say, if you feel bad at three o’clock in the morning it’s often a sign of depression and I believe there are some new antidepressants on the market now.
Why don’t you see the doctor tomorrow and ask him can you have a free sample because there is no NHS in the holy land.
And that’s why Jesus stayed in the Garden of Gethsemane by himself because he did not like what his followers were saying to him. And it was all because they didn’t want to actually know how he was feeling: that he was sweating blood that he was afraid that he was terrified but he was going to continue on the path that he believed God had set him on.
And after all he was the son of God. So he believed and there is some evidence to favor that view.
My old blue fountain pen allows The ink across the page to flow Like wet paint from an artist’s brush; And words come in a rush.
Enchanted by the hand that writes, Bewitched by art, beauty alights. The script is like a music score Through which you pass as through a door. Imagination’s home.
As,mysteriously,to you,to me, The spirits of our hearts are tamed, By rhythms of pen,of brush,of mind, They enter vision quite unplanned, Like moths to flutter softly round Fire joined heart and hand.
The pen slows down,the hand goes still And just as dreams at daybreak will, They shrink,they disappear,they’re gone, I almost caught that one.
I’m often impressed when I remember sayings, adages, things my mother used to say which are often related to bodily states
When I couldn’t find my glasses I was searching nervously or frantically and only found them when I gave up…..
I remembered my mother saying
You can’t see, for looking.
This is very interesting because like language itself and the developments from it these are coming from the lips of ordinary People. And they’re recognisinhg something which is only in the last hundred years been scientifically described I believe.
There are two kinds of seeing
Very focussed seeing.. narrow purposive vision… This is when we’ve got some thing which our mind is pinned on to and we ignore everything else apart from that very narrow bit of the world that we see very intently. We can also switch into this when we’re under stress, severe stress sometimes.
Then there is the way that the owl must look when it is looking from the tree for something to eat
Wide vision where you’re not focusing sharply on any individual spot in the landscape but your eyes widened and you’re scanning the whole at once. When the owl sees something then he or she must switch into the sharply focused mode and swoop down to catch the little beast that was spotted so the owl could have something to eat
I think artists also will be familiar with this. The eye muscles have to be relaxed which will happen spontaneously when necessary or sometimes you can do it deliberately. There are breathing techniques and relaxation techniques which can switch into this mode
Going back to the adage
You can’t see for looking.
See refers to broad vision with the eye muscles relaxed
And ,cleverly, looking refers to sharply focused vision
So if you’re looking too hard you can’t see
Well it took me 48 hours to find my glasses
I had taken them off in my bedroom to put some sunscreen on my face and then I couldn’t find them
I was looking in the bedroom for them
But when I found them they were downstairs in the sitting room
I wasn’t even trying to find them them and I’d given up completely
My old ones are adequate for most purposes but nevertheless if you if you wear glasses you know that having the ones you’re used to especially for reading is really very important and some of us feel incomplete without them.
I’m always grateful when I find something and I often look up at the sky and say
Thank you.
And thank you to all those human beings that came before us and left us wisdom in these sayings. And this was long before they were schools and universities and other learning organizations.
I sometimes think that we are getting less intelligence as time goes on.
Freed from her trap Bird soared into air,and hovered And floated, resting; And flew higher, singing as she flew, And higher again, Till there was only her song, Left in the silence, Trembling.
Up on the wide,stump topped hill, I felt the lark inside my heart And heard her singing. And flying up with her, I saw gold sun and silver moon, Moors of heather ,and sheep grazing Green hills, And shimmering lakes, Clouds ,sun and sky in watery mirrors. And sang ,and dipped,and dropped, And curled Up the blue Bright heaven, and rested On the wind. All that day I was a lark singing.
I shall always have a vision of A bird That flew upwards, Rejoicing and free Into a deep blue sky, and high And higher Beyond high Into a place, beyond eye even, But music still sending.
I wish I were back on that heathery moor, With the nibbling sheep and the bees sweetly humming, Hearing again The poignant song Of the skylark, A prisoner,freed by a magician, From her trap, So happy to be free, So wonderful to see. Do it again, For me.
Mary opened the door as the bell kept ringing.There stood a clergyman in a grey wool suit and baseball cap coordinated with his Nike trainers
Hello,madam,he said suavely in a mellifluous voice
Hello,Mary answered kindly.What is your mission?
To convert the entire world to Christianity.
I am sorry,I meant what was your mission with me.But anyway, you can’t convert me.So you are a failure.It’s called a counter example in Maths.
Why can’t I convert you, he asked the blue eyed witch of Knittingham standing there in her dark Artigiano jeans, Dash striped top and a red wool stole
I like choice, she cried.I do not want a creed.
Anyway, the man told her,I just came to say I am buying a flat across the road and I wanted some opinions on the quietness of this area before I finalise my purchase.
Mioaw,went Emile in a loud shriek
Oh,Lord, what is that, a demon,the poor man asked?
It’s only my cat, she told him,why not come in for coffee and I’ll tell you about the nearest neighbours.
That is very kind of you, he said.But I might be a burglar
Oh,good,Emile purred.I’ve always wanted to meet a burglar.
Why, asked the man as he entered the beautiful hall full of spiders and Picasso prints.
You can tell me how I can get into other people’s houses, the cat told him boldly.
I want to be a cat burglar!
Come into the living room, said Mary.The room was full of books like the Encarta English Dictionary, Stanley Middleton and “How to talk so cats can hear” piled in tidy heaps.
My name is Jacob, the visitor said.I have just retired but am keen to keep converting people as Christianity is the best religion ever
I don’t really want a religion and I am unsure how you prove it’s the best
I am keener on the Hindu religion, she lied impertinently just to see if she could carry it off as Aspies can’t tell lies
Suddenly the kitchen door opened and in ran Annie, the neighbour and one time Mistress of Stan,Mary’s late and dangerous old husband
Hello,Jake, she cried as she kissed his aged cheeks fondly
I am buying a flat but I didn’t know you lived here he said politely
We met on Tinder, Annie told Mary.
What is that, a hill? I know Kinder Scout.
It’s a dating website,Annie said gently, her curving lips covered in wine coloured lip glaze which almost matched her burgundy eye shadow and purple hair.
Why did you not ask me? Mary said shyly
I didn’t think you wanted another man,Annie said pertly with a twinkle in her gorgeous red eyes.
And Jacob said he came to convert me but is it true?
No, said Jacob.I saw you in the front garden and you look so beautiful I wanted to meet you.
Thank God you are not going to shower me with Biblical quotes,Mary said.
I suppose we should admire you going straight for what you want.Although when you know me better you may not find me so attractive.
Jake’s eyes bulged with emotion.
Well, you may not find me so attractive either, he cried wiping his streaming eyes on a kleenex tissue.
Mary ran upstairs and collected Stan’s hankies
Here, use these, she told Jake soulfully
Annie brought in some hot coffee with cream
What do we older people want, she murmured quizzically.We have loved and lost but shall we love again?
Well, I shall mioawed Emile.I don’t keep thinking,I just do it.If I get a chance
Love is more than sex,Emile.We want someone who shares a few interests and likes conversation.
What are your interests, she asked Jake?
I can’t remember, he admitted.I’ll have to look on FB at my profile.
But what do you do all day?
I read the Guardian and the Independent then I go out looking for women.
Women of the Night?
No,I just like to sit in the Mall and admire women as they pass by.I don’t want to cause suffering to women.And I am diabetic so I get erectile dysfunction sometimes so it would be a waste of money in any case
Well, if there was a National Wage or better benefits these prostitutes might give up their dangerous work.They all sat looking glum as they pondered over the political scene in Britain
If we were Jews we could live in Israel
Yes, you’d have seriously think of that to as the number of anti Semitic hate crimes has gone up by about 70% this year.And what that has to do with Brexit is hard to know except all people who are of different ethnicity are also being attacked.Some people seem to think it means black people will have to leave despite the fact nowhere in Europe is there a country mainly made up of black people.And during the Empire all people in it were British citizens.
Still,I feel too old to convert.Can we get false documents to prove we are Jewish?
That’s not something I know about, said Jacob, though my name is Jewish.It is Disraeli!
Hang on a minute,cried Annie.Let’s not be too hasty.It looks like Israel is on the verge of war.Yet Jake. if you married both of us we could get in as your wives as you must be Jewish.
But we are not meant to marry Gentiles.
Well how about us being servants?
Alas, that country was never truly accepted and it has become very,very fierce.I find as well that they love arguing ,which I don’t said Mary.
Well many other people love arguing,Jake said.But it’s true it is dangerous there especially with Syria at war so nearby
Why don’t we all go out and have a salt beef sandwich and some chips instead?Or how about ringing 999 for advice? They will know about getting false passports.
Is that true,said Mary
And so ask all of us.
We lived in an end of terrace house. From the top of the street to our house the road was covered in tarmac and from our house downwards it was cobbled. My mother said it was because it was three different parishes but secretly I thought it was because our house was very important
I like the cobbles because there was tar in between them and in the hot weather the tar would melt and we could pick it up and play with it.
In the summer we wore bathing suits.Sunburn was not regarded as bad
There was still quite a lot of TB and also polio. So sunshine was healthy although we often used to get burnt backs. Not to mention damage to our faces.
1953 was a hot year and my father was dying. I was outside playing on the cobblestones or playing with my skipping rope etc
I think we have the coronation as I remember a party at the bottom of the street where the cobbled part of the road met the main road going to St Helen’s.
None of my siblings came with me so I felt lonely not knowing what a coronation meant in practical terms apart from the Queen being crowned
Now the brickfield and the clay quarry has been filled in and they’ve built new house is over it
They used to be allotments prices were some men kept hens
Then as people got cars they closed the allotments and built ugly garages them
The convent and the school that I went to closed and now this is a housing estate so my sister told me. She was very happy that the school was knocked down. So was I
Words can help buoy you up. Making every minute count. Making memories. Only the snobbish and arrogant, the ever so healthy, mock aphorisms as trite. When things seem impossibly gloomy, when I don’t think I can take much more bad news, I turn to another wicked old friend. In the past I called her the emphysemic pit pony, because she has short legs and used to wheeze when she pushed my wheelchair uphill. That was long ago, before getting old became unavoidable and before I bought a power chair for going any distance. Now she’s over 70, still has short legs, still smokes one roll-up a day and employs the most dogged, brilliant, multipurpose saying of all:
How my heart speaks 