Resting in the love of all my friends
I’m soothed like infants in their padded cots
This love is live and rarely does it end
When people really meet the gods descend
Resting in the love of all my friends
Imagining that sunshine will ills mend
Make us grateful for the good we’ve got
Resting in the love of all our friends
We’re soothed when reading words we had forgot

• I can’t love you
  without loving the whole world too.
  I can’t open my heart
  unless everyone can be part.Wait for me.
  I’m not afraid.
  Wait for me.
  I may be delayed.I see you in my mind,
  Smiling, sad and kind.
  I can’t love you
  Unless I love the lost too.Give me your hands
  Outstretched across the world.
  We’re all one
  Love has begun

Signing off a letter with “beast wishes” Katherine
Yours fatefully
Yours sinderely
Ever bores
How nice to hump into you today
How good to be you today
Thanks for your litter.
Your letter was hellcome
Do you chop every Saturday?
I’ve got my insults from the lab today
Hope you are feeling reduced
Thanks for the Credit bard
Take your frog’s crap home in a bag
Noone wears a bat in church now
Lie low,I’m me.

My sister has sent me this

Those evenings the sky turned pink
We were happy, lying in the grass
watching the sun set
arms around each other

Seemed like eternal life had come
Earlier than forecast.
Those weathermen are often wrong!
They need more training

I shall remember you
in that timeless moment
in between two raindrops
in between two tears

Just read the beginning if it’s too much

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43650/auguries-of-innocence

BY WILLIAM BLAKE



To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower 
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 
And Eternity in an hour
A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage 
A Dove house filld with Doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell thr’ all its regions 
A dog starvd at his Masters Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State 
A Horse misusd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood 
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear 
A Skylark wounded in the wing 
A Cherubim does cease to sing 
The Game Cock clipd & armd for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright 
Every Wolfs & Lions howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul 
The wild deer, wandring here & there 
Keeps the Human Soul from Care 
The Lamb misusd breeds Public Strife
And yet forgives the Butchers knife 
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that wont Believe
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbelievers fright
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be belovd by Men 
He who the Ox to wrath has movd
Shall never be by Woman lovd
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spiders enmity 
He who torments the Chafers Sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night 
The Catterpiller on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief 
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly 
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh 
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar 
The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat 
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat 
The Gnat that sings his Summers Song
Poison gets from Slanders tongue 
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envys Foot 
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artists Jealousy
The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags
Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags 
A Truth thats told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent 
It is right it should be so 
Man was made for Joy & Woe 
And when this we rightly know 
Thro the World we safely go 
Joy & Woe are woven fine 
A Clothing for the soul divine 
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine 
The Babe is more than swadling Bands
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made & Born were hands 
Every Farmer Understands
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity 
This is caught by Females bright
And returnd to its own delight 
The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar 
Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore 
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of Death 
The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air
Does to Rags the Heavens tear 
The Soldier armd with Sword & Gun 
Palsied strikes the Summers Sun
The poor Mans Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Africs Shore
One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands
Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands 
Or if protected from on high 
Does that whole Nation sell & buy 
He who mocks the Infants Faith
Shall be mockd in Age & Death 
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall neer get out 
He who respects the Infants faith
Triumphs over Hell & Death 
The Childs Toys & the Old Mans Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons 
The Questioner who sits so sly 
Shall never know how to Reply 
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out 
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesars Laurel Crown 
Nought can Deform the Human Race
Like to the Armours iron brace 
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow 
A Riddle or the Crickets Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply 
The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile 
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will neer Believe do what you Please 
If the Sun & Moon should Doubt 
Theyd immediately Go out 
To be in a Passion you Good may Do 
But no Good if a Passion is in you 
The Whore & Gambler by the State
Licencd build that Nations Fate 
The Harlots cry from Street to Street 
Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet 
The Winners Shout the Losers Curse 
Dance before dead Englands Hearse 
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born 
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight 
Some are Born to sweet delight 
Some are Born to Endless Night 
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night 
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light 
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in Night 
But does a Human Form Display
To those who Dwell in Realms of day

The results of the experiment = the insults of a compliment
I failed my degree= I sailed nude and free
I hated mechanics—–I ate dinner on it
Panic attack=Pan on a rack
An evil sinner = Noodles for dinner
Do you repent = Who’re you to dissent?
I am a Jew = I love you too
I have got flu- I feel rather blue
Hold my hand cos I need you===Fold the sands as we need Sue
Probably a sign of schizophrenia -Horrible swine in the media
You might enjoy it – you’re right,destroy it
What’s my name= No sighs insane
She ate the meat- she hated her feet
Do you dust every chair? ..you must often swear
What’s a four letter word? Did you ever do surds?
I feel my testosterone rise….He feels his vests alight

· 

Inside my mind I dream of pearls,
Caterpillars,snails with whorls.
I dream contented, all enwrapped;
With reverie and dream I’m lapped.
The inner seas will comfort me,
While gods refine my eyes to see

Oh,sweeter than confectionery
Is my Oxford diction’ry.
The words whirl round then fall to shape
The sentences which my world make.
This furnishing is rich and strange
And magically self arranged.

Oh,sweeter than the love of man
Is reading works of poets long gone;
Feeling deeply their dark tides
.Upon which our boat may glide.
The infinite sea we float upon
Is the same warm sea the ancients swam


Sweeter still is the spring air
And the blossom spreading fair
We’ll drown our selves in grassy fields
To the gods of poetry yield.
We’ll rise again and spring up tall
To grow more rich until we fall.
Then we’re compost for the worms
God enlighten these my poems

Click to access Morecambebaybasins.pdf

.

The group of estuaries that comprise Morecambe Bay form the largest area of intertidal mudflats
and sands in the UK. The four rivers discharging into the bay are the Leven (with Crake) and Kent
(with Bela) in the North, and Lune and Wyre in the East (Figure 1).

In Morecambe they imported golden sands
The Rivers Lune and Kent had stolen theirs
I wonder where it went to, Blackpool grand?
In Morecambe they imported golden sands
Morecambe Bay will suck in any band
Sightseers want to cross this bay, its lands
Danger swallows men on beaches bare
In Morecambe they imported golden sand
The Rivers Lune and Kent had drunk up theirs

When I was a child I became very afraid of sinking sands & also of being eaten by tigers
But it passed

Katherine  August 26, 2017 

Eating in the garden in the rain
Denying what his senses felt and saw
November came and he crept in again

A look  of anguish with a heart so pained
He wished he were beyond the natural law.
Eating in the garden in the rain

Once we   were to weather quite immune
We lived as if our bodies had no flaw
November came and  we ate in again

I heard the blackbird spring its built in tune
Hoping that his misery would thaw
While eating in the house where it can’t  rain

To him the winter dark made very plain
We must eat indoors and find some joy
November comes and  we are home again

Every husband has at least  one flaw
And it ain’t what that old damned butcher saw
Eating in the garden in the rain
Autumn comes and I still vote remain

I saw a snail in Southport on a lawn
I was three,I’d not seen snails before
The lawn was bright, the grass was neatly shorn
I saw a snail in Southport on a lawn
The air was pure, at home we saw no dawn
Only pigeons looking sad, forlorn
No sand, no views, no soft allure,
I saw a snail in Southport on a lawn
I passed a pram and saw a babe new born

The crackling crunch of shell,I killed the dead
They come out in the rain and have no sense
The ones that die do not pass on learned dread
God made tigers and the snails we tread
The crunch of shattered shell,another dead
I would not like to take a snail to bed
Neither would I wish to take offence
The crackling crunch of shell, another’s dead
They come out in the rain enjoy the drench

We were in a boarding house that year
Aye, we saw the Mersey Tunnel grim
New Brighton was no Brighton seen before
Yes, it had a beach but little more
We were in a boarding house that year
I can’t remember food nor men with beer
I had a spate of tantrums, angered Mam
We were in a boarding house quite bare
To fear the Mersey Tunnel wasa sin

After my caring duties were finished,I realised on reflection that I had begun
to behave like my husband did
He was very crticical of radios and several times replaced them seeking the
perfect sound.I spent some months doing the same thing and as I can listen via the TV
I did not need to do it.But now I have readmany books about bereavement I’ve discovered it is common.It’s as if you take the loved person into yourself
I can’t start drinking gin because of medication
Nor can I drive.
Maybe, it’s ironical,I was silently critical of his radio needs and so that is the one I have taken into myself
I had already got 2 cheap mobile phones so that in A & E one would always be working
I then became obsessed with phones however so far I have limited myself
to Motorola [ a budget phone!) I feel quite contented as I use it mainly for reading
e- books and looking up weird information when I lie down feeling ill
Like, what does Lacan’s writing mean ? I don’t know why they use such abstruse
language
I look up recipes for exotic dishes which I do not make
Better than looking at railway timetables, perhaps?
I call my best friend on it & my family.
My vaccination appt came on it
Why should I get an expensive phone?
I don’t want to worry about dropping down the toilet or losing it and like most of my stuff nobody will steal it.Those criminals who got in realised when they saw my old TV that they had made a mistake.
Now I’d like to know how many different phones canI have on one landline?
Purely for scientific reasons of course.

Well, children play!

We feel better playing because it has no purpose,we are doing it for enjoyment

Aldeburgh,Sizewell,Dunwich Heath
The nuclear bomb shall bring eternal peace
Housed between the town and the Reserve
Its blackness is ignored by little birds

If force deters, then we shall all be saved
Or this our world will vanish without trace
Innocently playing on the shore
Children find old marble unrestored

Birds may sense the blackness of our hearts
For, even though unused, the bombs take part
They are here where Britten once composed
And so the sanctuary ends unsaved,destroyed

In between the lover and his rose
A screen electric in the silence glows

When you are far,so far away
The longest night,
The shortest winter day,
will be places where
I might die.
The heart's interior
no-one else
Can view.
When you are lost,
I cannot find
your face...
Its outline on the pillows,
My fingers shaped to trace...
The new design,
the stellar rhyme,
Where have you gone?
You slipped from out my arms.
You slipped away.
Was night or day
Ever cut by such a narrow line?
In your embrace I lay.
You seemed so strong.
Yet,sighing, took the path away.
I can't see where
Is
it
night?
Or is it
day..?
I tried to write
to bring white light,
It's dark, and still.
I long for you to come.
Oh,will we ever quite
Find out our way?
Or is that pure illusion?
As we stagger through
the wandering furrows
in the fields
They shoot us down.
What is this confusion?
The war goes on
The world goes round
The mirror gapes at each new clown.
But in a crack, a seed may grow..
I can't see you,
But yet,it's so.

Mary stood at the bus stop in her chocolate wool winter coat which Stan had always loved.
It hangs so well,he had told her.
The optional imitation fur collar had been removed as she preferred natural garment  made from wool with no ostentation.As a matter of fact she has one of Stan’s woollen vests on under her gold silk top.Her hair fell in light blonde curls around her pensive face and her eyes looked as if she were seeing a dim vision of the Matterhorn in midwinter after drinking a double brandy

Suddenly she realised the bus was there ;she put her card up to the machine before looking for a seat.The bus was rather full so she sat down next to a youth with an i phone hanging from his hand.
Suddenly it rang.His chosen theme was, Please release me, sung by Tom Jones.
Mary smiled as, if she were near Tom Jones she would need no invitation to free him.
The youth began to speak rather louder than normal.

Mary tried not listen but it was impossible.She was too hot as well..Wearing Stan’s vest was a mistake as the bus was overheated.She turned pink like sunrise over ICI in Billingham as the pollution had a beautifying effect.

I’m sorry I wore your vest,she told Stan.
I should have given them away but I was trying to save money on heating.Still I will be home soon.

Where is your microphone, the youth demanded.It must be one of those new tiny ones.
A microphone? Mary said curiously.
Yeah, he cried.I assume your phone is in your pocket.

Actually it’s in a pocket in my knickers,she informed h m in a manner resembling that of a mildly dotty scientist.We used to wear these knickers in the gym at school.

Did you not wear a top? he enquired,his eyes running over her hourglass figure like water falling off High Force in Teesdale in summer storms.

Well.I didn’t have a bra until I got my grant to attend university,she told him sensitively.

Well,that’s news to me,he said.So you had to wear a bra at University? That was before feminism,of course.Did you burn it later?

Certainly not,said Mary.I’d been longing for one but my mother didn’t seem to notice my development which was her way of coping with adolescent girls.
Of course my brothers may have noticed but they were too nervous to tell Mother I needed any support.We were all so shy and afraid.Anyway be quiet now,I want to speak to my husband.
Have you had your phone on all this time? he asked anxiously.
No,I don’t need it to talk to him,she responded
Why,where is he? the youth enquired sardonically.
He’s on my knee,Mary informed him.In this bag.She pointed to her hessian shopping bag.
I have just been to the Coop for him.I ought to have got a cab as he is quite heavy.

Jesus Christ,cried the youth,hastily pressing the bell before leaping off the bus into a small pond that had been created b Hurricane Desmond.He swam away into the cold night.
Well. that shut him up,Mary said to Stan.
Mary,don’t become less gentle and kind,Stan said in her ear.
I can’t be gentle now,she said.It’s a nasty tough world without you to help me and tell me what you think of Jeremy Corbyn.And do I need to have a roast dinner at Xmas or just some toad in the hole?
I am sorry,sweetheart he murmured.Maybe you need assertiveness training.
I’ll just get more aggressive,she replied.Micro-aggressive perhaps
.You’ll need more than micro in this era,he continued.Mary forgot to get off the bus and found herself in the Leisure Centre by the River Lee
What about the river,Stan, she asked?
Would you like me to throw you in?
A policeman standing near by ran over.
Madam, is it suicide or murder, he asked her.
No,it’s a life sentence,she said humorously as she put her hand up her skirt to get her phone.
That’s a silly place to keep your phone he said.Anyway don’t call a cab,I can run you home in my car.Have you got any China tea?I could kill for a hot drink.
I have some lapsang souchong,she told him.Do you fancy that?
I do, called Stan from the bag.
The policeman passed out.
I told you not to get a boyfriend yet,he continued to Mary.
I’ll do whatever I feel like,she said rudely.I could use a comforting arm around me.Stan sobbed quietly
.She said,quickly
Don’t worry.I’ll get Emile to sit on my knee.Goodbye for now.
Goodbye whispered Stan faintly.
Good bye…. goodbye
Goodbye

How my heart sings

Poetry and lovely images

Katherine Fiction,humor

The wheelie bins and Stan’s adventures therein

Stan was in his front garden polishing 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 change!”.
“What a strange idea” he replied philosophically.however age was no bstacle where love was involved, if you catch my drifting between the lines.
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 bike up the 30 yard long front path to the porch she heard murmurings and mutters,

She lifted up the green plastic lid and saw the two lovers covered 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 and ran into the garden
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 Stan 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  green wheelie bin”,he thought.
“Next time we’ll use the cardboard and newspaper wheelie bin” he proclaimed to the mouse in the bathroom
And we’re all envious!

All photos by Katherine

Oh, strong the paintings etched on my stone heart
By your warm hands that held me in the night
There is no virtue for the merely smart
Oh,joyous memories melt my stoney heart
Nothing but our love will more love start
Love is measured but not on a chart
Pray for grace and ask for gifts of light
Oh,rich the shapes embroidered on my heart
By your warm hands that held me in the night

by katherine

I scratched my thigh mosquitos lately stang
My blood ran down like streams by aspirin thinned
I suffer scruples if I think I’ve sinned
In this case I have done nothing right or wrong

Except that scratching makes the wound look worse
I should wash it, let it heal allby itself
My hand goes down and scratches it in stealth
We think we’re in control, so then we curse

I took a photo while the red blood flowed
It got onto my sheet, I’ll leave it there
As if to say I’m bleeding so still here
I miss the love I had,I know you know

What is life when we do not share words?
The single suffer loneliness absurd

Noone locked their door in Flamborough town
Too hot in trainers, my feet swelled with pain
We shall never see those cliffs again
Now you lie in earth, all muddy brown

My metatarsal arch collapsed, like Dunwich drowned
Wandering on a cliff path in light rain
Noone locked their door in Flamborough town
Too hot in trainers, my feet swelled with pain

In Bridlington the cashpoint let us down
The town was dirty,unkempt,in the main
Where was Hockney, will he come by train?
Bempton Cliffs astonished,sea renowned
Noone locked their door in Flamborough town

He won the Soros Translation Award in 1985, and spent the prize money on a day trip to Lapland on Corcorde

Edwin Morgan

Scotland’s first official Makar in modern times, Edwin Morgan was endlessly inventive, inquiring, energetic, internationalist, and deeply committed to his home city of Glasgow.

A book of poems in his honour, Unknown Is Best, was produced to celebrate Morgan’s eightieth birthday in 2000. His own poem, ‘At Eighty’, was characteristic of the poet’s work, faring forward into the future, embracing change: ‘Push the boat out, compañeros / Push the boat out, whatever the seas…. push it all out into the unknown! / Unknown is best, it beckons best…’.

This seems an unlikely sentiment from a man of Morgan’s background. He was the only child of loving, anxious and undemonstrative parents, Stanley and Margaret (née Arnott) Morgan, politically conservative and Presbyterian. His father was a director of a small firm of iron and steel merchants. Edwin George Morgan was born on 27 April 1920 in Glasgow’s West End, and brought up in Pollokshields and Rutherglen. He attended – unhappily – Rutherglen Academy, moving on to complete his schooling at Glasgow High and entering Glasgow University in 1937.  When he was called up in 1940, he horrified his family by registering as a conscientious objector. He reached a compromise position while waiting for his case to be called, and asked to serve in the RAMC, with which he spent the war in Egypt, the Lebanon and Palestine.

He was demobbed in 1946, returned to Glasgow and took a first class Honours degree in English Language and Literature. There was a chance of studying at Oxford, but Morgan preferred to take up the offer of a Lectureship in the Department of English at Glasgow University, where he remained. Having become Titular Professor in 1975, he retired from the University in 1980. He was a much-valued colleague and himself appreciated the structure and salary that academic life gave him.

Morgan first published under the name ‘Kaa’ in the High School of Glasgow Magazine, in 1936, and went on using that nom de plume in the Glasgow University Magazine, emerging as reviewer and translator under his own name in a variety of periodicals after the war. His first collection, The Vision of Cathkin Braes, was published by William MacLellan of Glasgow in 1952, and in the same year the Hand and Flower Press issued his translation of Beowulf (reissued by Carcanet Press in 2002). For fifty years Morgan maintained this double output, translations from Russian and Hungarian, Latin and French, Italian and Old English keeping pace with his own work, showing astonishing variety and technical skills in both. He won the Soros Translation Award in 1985, and spent the prize money on a day trip to Lapland on Corcorde.

Made by Katherine copyright

The oven is an halogen,it’s so good
It has a golden light which aids my mind
It grills my steak till it goes brown like wood

I don’t like meat that oozes with red blood
I’m guilty.I have sinned and been unkind
The oven is an halogen,it’s good

No oven is of use during the flood
Do you like to eat the bacon rind?
I grill my bacon till it’s brown like wood

I cannot eat a trout which has a head
I scream into its eye both dead and blind
The oven is an halogen,bright, good

Since we killed the Jews and others sad
God wrote yet his words escaped our minds
Jesus, Joan of Arc, the cross, the wood

The genocides utopian were thought good
One person or ten trillion, guilt denied
It fries the soul, and dries up all the blood

Was it the philosophers that lied
No dignity and yet excessive pride
The sun is fierce, it’s blinding us to good
The darkeness, the Inferno in the Wood

Katherine fiction, Thinkings and poems 

Stan was teaching social statistics to a group of elderly neighbors.Since he was 109 it gave them all hope to see him demonstrating his prowess with various techniques.He was planning to do some logic and philosophy too.
Annie   his mistress was sitting by the door so she could answer the bell if any paramedics turned up for tea.
“I’m not going to calculate  the standard deviations” he murmured.”I just want you to grasp the general purpose.”
“Deviations,they’re not normal are they?” enquired his neighbor “Henry,an ex-English teacher.”So how can they be standard? It’s confusing..”
“Are you thinking of deviants?” Stan enquired calmly yet firmly
”Certainly not,at my age .I’m a bit past that!””Still , it adds a bit of excitement to the class.” he thought.
How do words in ordinary language relate to those in Statistics?”asked Henry kindly
“They are just more precisely defined in statistics.To say someone is a deviant is a rather vague term.”
“No,it’s not!My neighbor is a deviant.He  dresses entirely in yellow.”
“Well,that must be hard to do.Certainly unusual.” Stan agreed boldly.
“But in another country that might be the norm.So it’s a matter of context.
In statistics, it’s more boring.There’s a formula.It’s totally independent of context.Have you ever wondered why so many mathematicians have more than a touch of Asperger’s syndrome?”

“No,it’s not something that wanders through my mind much”replied Henry
A shudder passed through the room at hearing the word “formula“, which perhaps they considered something of a deviant!Anything with letters and numbers mixed together is certainly not welcome in many people’s minds, along with their more unusual sexual tastes, desires ,and inclinations which were kept secret even from themselves in many cases.

“Time for tea.” called Annie,hoping to divert their attention.She carried in a platter of mouse sandwiches kindly donated by the local ambulance service and some iced Victoria sponge she and Stan had made the day before while Mary was giving a lecture on doughnuts and algebraic topology.
“Just a quick word about next week.We’ll take a look at ratios and proportions and maybe see how that relates to the concept of rationality.”
“That sounds fun!” Annie called encouragingly.Henry decided to act on a deviant desire and fell onto her lap.
”Oh,dear!” she gasped loudly as the chair collapsed under her.
”Why can’t you be deviant at home?”
“My wife won’t let me!” He kindlily answered.
“And look,” Stan continued,”we’ll have to ring 999.This chair is in fragments.I thought for one day we’d be able to avoid calling them out!”
“Well,life is not controllable.” said a quiet but fierce looking lady with sharp green eyes.
”That’s what makes it tolerable“
She then greedily consumed a large piece of iced cake .
“I can stand the thinking if the cake is good” she whispered to her shy friend Amy.
”That’s rather a feeble argument,”Amy retorted.”You can’t really compare cake and statistics.”
“I’ll compare anything I like!” the green-eyed woman snarled loudly.
“You do what you like but you must keep a sense of proportion!”
“Now then,have you rung 999?” Stan queried of Annie.”Yes,here they are,and they’ve got a stretcher for the chair!”
“Well,that’s certainly unusual,even deviant“,Stan thought anxiously to himself.
”Where do they get their funding? Is there a fund for distributing money to help chairs which are not fit for purpose?

And so ask all of us

1.Avocado pears have protein in them.Eat alone or make a melon,avacado and grape salad
Have some bread & butter
2 Mix chopped apple,carrot,celery with cubes of cheese.Eat with French dressing
3.As 2, add nuts or raisins or mushrooms sliced
4 .Cold meat plus any salad especially potato and nasturtium leaves
6 Cheese sandwich [ iron it!]
7 Cooked pasta shells with any vegetables chopped plus a Lemon and Oil dressing
8 Make toasted sandwiches in the toaster in a special toastie bag
9 Cooked rice with chopped peppers, chopped cooked beef, spring onions
And slices of orange [ thin] plus olive oil and ginger
10. Weetabix with milk, raisins and walnuts

Sitting on the high backed,v Ercol sofa  in the large sitting room of her new neighbours Tom and Edina, Mary sipped at the PG Tips tea she had been given in a pseudo-art deco mug.The tea tasted pseudo as well!
Would you like  some delicious  cake,Mary? Edina asked her  rather loudly
Mary jumped.
Oh excuse me, my nerves are all on edge, she cried.I’d love some  home made cake
Edina took out a penknife and cut a slice of  the large cake.Alas it was coffee flavoured and Mary was not fond of that.This was agony to her especially coffee  flavoured  butter cream filling as she liked all the other flavours..Suffering from this is a new psychiatric disorder called uncakeophilia disorder
Why are   you using a penknife in here a,Tom asked his wife angrily.We have lots of kitchen knives and other silver ones
I found it on the floor,Edina said  pensively
I don’t suppose you washed it, Tom answered furiously
Mary leaned back and shut her eyes for a moment.I hate noise, she thought.
No, dirt is good for the immune system, Edina murmured
What rubbish,  you are so lazy I can’t believe it! her husband told her.
After 39  years you should be used to it,Edina told him sensibly.Who made all these new curtains and  vacuumed the roof? she went on languidly
Did you vacuum the roof in your last house,Mary asked her?
We lived in a flat before so I never had to do it.
Well,  it’s unneccessary,Mary said , why not learn Esperanto?
Where do people speak that?
I have no idea but it’s a  language,Mary cried decisively
But can it really be a language if it’s not the native tongue of any country?,
Well Yiddish is a language yet few people speak it,Tom told them
It would be difficult for  the dead to speak,Mary said in a sad  voice
It used to be spoken by millions of people in Central and Eastern Europe.
Why didn’t Hitler teach them English,asked Edina?
You  think he only hated their language,said Tom in surprise.I’ve never heard that before.
It is  bloody ridulous,Mary said  in her soft  yet vibrant voice…he didn’t kill them because of their language and they spoke German as well,Maybe even French,Polish and other tongues
Just then they heard  a strange  choking sound .It was Emile the talking tomcat trying to get out of Mary’s large  plastic handbag
Good grief ,Tom shouted.Did we invite this cat? Does he drink tea from cups? Is he  real?
Well, yes , I love tea, Emile mewed.And don’t shout at Mary like that!
I am not letting a cat order me about,Tom screamed like a lunatic
But  it’s not nice for Mary.She is a highly sensitive person and I love her
Now, they tell us,Edina whispered.She is married to her cat
I didn’t hear you,Tom said,Is  she harried ,did you say?
No I said married
But her husband is dead
Well, now she  has taken the cat, for better or for worse.Edina said in a humorous  yet angry manner.For richer for poorer… a cat can’t earn a wage
Edina  and Tom were shouting  at each other not realising what impression they were making
Mary  called. out,
Why invite me to tea and shout like this?
Did you never shout at Stan?
No,I didn’t need to.He  listened to me.
Well, you are very quiet, said Emile, so Stan  had no i to fear you might shout
I might have shouted when I read Fermat’s Last Theorem.Mary admitted furtively
Was Fermat your teacher,Edina asked?
No he died a long  while ago
Fancy dying  and all you have to leave is a theorem
Well, it stops the family fighting,Mary said wisely
Suddenly  the door opened and in  flew Annie, the flame haired mistress of the late Stan
Why was I not invited to this tea party ,she asked rudely?Are we in Boston?
Sorry,dear,said Tom.Not many people like to come here because Edina has a bad temper
No I don’t she shouted.You have a bad temper
I get so  tired of all these projective  misperceptions,Emile said in his intelligent voice
My therapist was not a cat, but I kept projecting on to him and he looked just like a cat to me until he barked one day.He was in fact a dog.I  realised
Was that the end  of your therapy?
Yes, I  stole all the money from Mary’s purse and there was none lef.tAnd I learned about projection, that was enough
Good heavens,Mary murmured.I thought Annie had taken  the money
What!You thought I was a thief.Annie bawled What next?
Well, you’re more like a sister and I didn’t mind as I know it’s so demeaning to ask for money.
See, said Tom to Edina,I said you should not ask me for  money after we  make love
Why not, she enquired? I need some new art materials
Can’t you use the housekeeping money?
Well, if you are happy to starve,Edina said sarcastically
Don’t use sarcasm.Only prostitutes take money.,Tom added.I did say you can buy whatever you like in the way of clothes and so on on our credit card
How do you know it’s only whores? Many women do need the money as they may be single mothers trying to feel their family and  not getting Universal Benefit on time,Edina told himBut other women might demand jewellery, and expensive houses like Wallis Simpson
That’s a fair point,Tom  muttered.It’s more complicated than I realised.
Money is a big problem in many  marriages,Mary  called
But I earned my own and Stan retired early and got  a pension so I had no need to
beg him for  money
But did he beg  you,Edina asked?
No, we just kept in  the  bathroom under the soap.So it was clean.
I wonder if viruses can spread on money? Tom said
I feel sure it is  possible but how would  we test that out.  his wife asked
Best to wear gloves but when you take  them off the viruses might  fly all over the place
I didn’t   know they could fly, said Emile.Are they invisible?
Well, we don’t really know but people often get bad colds when they go on aeroplanes
Annie  turned pale.
Are you ill, Annie? asked Tom
I am having a  nervous breakdown.I’ve caught paranoia from a  £5 note.
You can’t catch  it,Mary said in her kind voice.It’s not a physical illmess and they are plastic nowadays so they can be wiped down
Well where does madness come from? It  is horrible feeling so anxious.
This is not  much fun, said Edina.I thought it would be  lovely meeting the neighbours but we  go from tarts to paranoia and back.Is this wise?
They all sat looking glum,Then Annie revealed all
I am a Russian agent sent here by Putin.I befriended Mary on Putin’s orders
He must  be stupid.Why spy on Knittingham?
Well, you   will be surprised.Mary  is an expert on differential operators
On bicycle chains, asked Tom?
How ignorant people are.Annie  shouted.Did you never see anything odd about calculus and little things appearing and disappearing?
Well, to be frank, no!
I don’t believe we learned calculus said Edina
We learned  quadratic quotations
Do you mean equations,Mary asked?
I don’t know what I mean,Edina said nervously
And neither do we, said the others
Calculus is a bit like  the Mass.Important things  happen but we can’t see  them.Everything looks the same but it’s not
Then they heard a siren.In ran Dave,  the heroic paramedic in his new pink dress. and coat
Don’t drop the  bomb, he  told Tom audaciously
I’m not  President Trump,Tom imformed  him gravely
That’s what they all say,Dave said to Annie
Who can we trust
Just Emile,said Mary.And Annie.
Why don’t  you trust me said Tom?
I  am waiting to see how you behave,she replied
Like a  kind of exam?
Yes, it’s called
Trust your neighbour and yourself? How to know the people who might be dangerous
to your life and mental health
There’s not much mental health in Britain now,said Tom.I’m a doctor!
Well, don’t shout at the patients, said Annie
I only shout at home,
That is  horrible, surely those you love need kindness?
Tom burst into tears and Emile lent him his hanky
I don’t think we’ll  meet any more of the neighbours Edina said
Enough is enough.Kindly go home
Pleased to meet you, said Dave.Do call me when you need  coal bringing in or have a heart attack
No way,thought Tom as he drank a bottle of brandy in the bathroom
I feel  we made  a  mistake… we will have to  move as soon as we can

And so say all of us

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 jumpy 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 snaps of frogs, birds and flowers.Mental disorder 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; they had Revlon peach blusher on their cheeks and Chanel scarlet lipstick…on their lips.They also wore dark blue nail varnish from Rimmel
“Good morning, Stan!” called one of them.”We are Anne‘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 cried.
“Anne 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 noise!
“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 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 talk 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 Anne 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 old man.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.
“No, I have just read Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein eight times,” he quipped merrily.
“Wow,is it not boring?”
“No.it’s so good it put me off reading lesser books.And I love to understand things or not understand”
Just then Stan tripped on the rug and fell over unconscious
.Emile picked up his mobile with its full Qwerty keypad 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
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…
“Oh, lovely,I  feel much better for that nap,” he said brightly.
“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 delightfully….
“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…
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Oh, lidded kettle boil me water fast.
I cannot live without your heated blast
Your spout is small but perfect for its use.
And, as your lid is hinged, it can’t get lost
An electric kettle made by Russell Hobbs
A teapot with a spout and lid with knob
Are what the English need in times of storm
If crisis comes, we need tea hot, not warm
I don’t object to diverse kettle brands.
We had a coal fire once  with kettle stand.
Its  metal black from soot and burned by  coke
We made our neighbours tea which seemed to smoke.
Ah, kettle , instrument of  civil life,
We cannot boil our water on a knife.