For three weeks I had a virus so could not exercise.I was concerned because my muscles are not in the ideal condition
I mentioned it to someone who said
But it’s not your fault
That is true but our muscles will get weaker if we don’t use them for ANY reason.Whether it is our fault or not
The body does not know why we don’t move It just reacts to how we use it
Oh for the happy days when we could fall over and get up again
With no injuries
I remember Xmas ’46.
the glowing coal,the sugar bag,the sticks
The boys had fairisle jumpers in pure wool
The golden cup of happiness was full
In the flames I saw bright dancing shapes
oh happy infant ,love, oh happy state.
on a Xmas tree were hung the chocolate coins
in the crib I saw Lord Jesus born
My sister too was soon to leave the Womb
Next time she would be there in the room
Her Celtic face was round her eyes were green
Rarely did she cry,Allanah, Queen
This was Eden,this was all our joy
Come back Love,do not our lives destroy.
I could have spent much time in studying ice
The thin pools on the pavement froze like stars
Reflecting light from street lamps would suffice
I was late for school, it wasn’t far.
I knew each crack, the depth of pools, the shape
Like the mother’s body, studied, loved.
When the water froze my eyes would gape
Along would come my brothers with a shove.
I knew each brick each stone, each clean doorstep.
There was no time for me to stop and stare
I feared the rage of teachers and the priest
I neglected life, took no time to rest
Adults seemed much worse than ravenous beasts.
The little world is spoiled when they “know best’
Potential pleasure and the painter’s joy
Sacrificed to “learning”, love destroyed
Ray Queer’s cat’s in parquet
Request cats get parts t’.
I forgive you your twins. But you must be a virgin when you can.
All unmarried versions please report to the press bitterly
Guardian angels leave heaven on sight.
Cheerio, Elaine’s son
Hail glorious St Hat Trick.
Lord, it’s hearsay.
Lord, I’m worser
Forgive all dear trespassers.
Blessed is the foot of thy broom.
Pay for us now and the whore at our death.
I believe in none,God.
The communion of tyrants
Criminals will be persecuted in rhyme
.
Jesus wants me for his angels.
The Ten Demanding Torments are here.
Have you paid for your wrecks yet?
For all the saints who laboured at their tests
For all the painted ghosts
Remember man my heart tart is frost
Ash to ash,dust if you must
Forgive us an hour’s trespassing and we shall be in heaven
Please do as you would have fun by.
Do you resent both your sins ?
You are not allowed any descent from the church.
Why do we have to start by saying
prey Father?
I have committed five mortal sinners to the asylum. They will be put on rhythm if they are bipolar magnets.
What does it mean?
Why can’t we use table salt instead of lithium?
Alternatively we could put lithium on the table instead of sea salt.
I say, I think that’s really disgusting.
I said you’ve got the wrong adjective.
How do you know when you’ve got the right one?
Like skittles struck by well aimed iron balls
One by one, my friends, my siblings fall
Who will be the last to meet their death?
The great wheels of the engine grind the path.
The young will not desire to meet the old
And so we lie down sick and grow more cold
Everything is taken every cell
I hope with gratitude I shall die well
Remember how our breathing slows right down
When we see a small bird close at hand
We want the happy moment to expand
To feel the greenness, and in that greeness drown
Our breathing is much faster in the town
Our hearts will beat as fast as Previn’s hands.
We lose our mind and body, their demands.
We walk through traffic like damned clowns
See the human faces as they frown
They each update their phone,a thousand pounds!
They will park and ride the underground.
To Mayfair with a credit card and crown.
We need to create new memories that last.
In Dedham Vale the wild geese still fly past
Words can’t match the flowers so happy here.
Take love to your own heart,a souvenir
The poet can sing until you feel you’re real
The love of beauty helps the heart to heal
I saw my house uprooted like a tree
Great roots were severed, how I ached to see
And all was tossed without my love and care
Bits of earth fell from the roots. now bare.
Barbaric in its mad intensity
I wept the tears of grief for you, for me.
Our home attacked,destroyed and I lie here.
Putting out the flames with profuse tears
Lamenting for my love who died within
The collapsing of my world now with no sun
The house a symbol of our marriage true
Cannot stand without a me and you
So my vision passed and I am here
My memories are my only souvenir
I wish we were in Daisy Street again
Play cops and robbers, children’s games.
Skipping with a rope, reciting rhymes.
Rolling marbles, finding walls to climb
Going to the park,we liked
Rolling marbles made of coloured glass
Skipping rope and learning ancient rhymes
Filling inkwells , polishing the brass
With dip-in pens we wrote upon the lines
Licking out the bowl where cakes were mixed
Running wild with brothers and their friends
Wonder at those fireworks Daddy fixed
Catherine wheels rotating, transcendent
Mother smiling in her flowery dress
Little rocking chairs where we placed dolls
Daddy saying,Good night and God Bless
Teddies with no fur left, ask our Paul
Little sisters, brothers’ cricket balls
Hot coal fires where kettles used to boil
Old gas cookers, scabbed knees from our falls
Fuses blowing, making light bulbs fail
In our bed , we whispered little tales
In the morning feeling warm and dazed
Love was in the air, the baby wailed
Dad so pleased with Mother’s happy face
I see the cobblestones all hot with sun
The Street Party , the Coronation
There may be other meanings to your words
The words you keep the words that you discard
The one you meant to write, the one I heard
The way you punctuate, the way sound blurs.
The ones that might be soft, the ones so hard.
There may be other meanings to your words
Some pierce like swords, some are diamond hard
The words you meant to write, the ones I heard
The way the kettles sang, the way cats purred.
The words that open doors, the ones that bar.
There may be other meanings to your words
The way the cookie crumbles, paper chars
The ones you meant to write the ones I heard
We don’t know what we say,l when life’s absurd
My recipes from books, how mother stirred
There may be other meanings to your words
Why write poetry when your phone’s not charged?
Can patience be alluring in our age?
There may be other meanings to your words
The ones you meant to write the ones I heard
I lost myself in books and in wild flowers
I lost myself in you,oh joyous hours.
But now I cannot lose myself, I fight
My presence to myself, a heavy weight.
My skin became like armour, my defence
No flowing into others as was once.
The joy of losing all my sense of self
Now I see this as a source of wealth.
I became all others yet still me
I felt the human kinship I could see
To feel yourself and not an alien thing.
How is life renewed how shall we sing?
How long the day seems now you are not here
Without your company how shall I steer?
I feel your absence like a pain, like grief.
When death has stung, it then becomes a thief
How long each day seems when I am alone.
I understand the beetles under stones
Your presence was a blessing, was delight
Whether in the day or in the night.
Now I mend the cupboards and the doors
Nothing seems quite like it was before.
I miss your presence and your company
Since you died I feel feel that I’m not me.
I do not feel myself, I feel estranged.
Ranging through these rooms I miss your gaze.
‘To be able to draw from observation, he believed, was “the foundation for fine art, for applied art, for architecture, for thinking, for coming up with ideas, for opening our minds through an intense process of really looking at the world around us”.
I think this artwork was done by me on my computer
what brings you here
Not literally? [ could be autistic]
No, you are always here in a sense.
Well, you know English is not my first language [ excuses]
No, you were here before language.How hard to imagine.
I have come here because of my guilt [ trying to be human ]
I’ll be judge, I’ll be jury, said cunning old furyVery adroit [Shows off his skills]
What’s that?
The opposite of maladroit
Why did you send the Flood over the earth\~
I pressed the wrong button. [Teases me]
That is absurd. There were no buttons then
Not even on coats? [Pretends to be ignorant]
Well you should know
I don’t like little details in my creatiity [ Thinks he is superior]
Come on, tell me whatever comes to mind
I like playing with water and fire as well [ Melanie Klein come here]
You tell me
It’s such fun [ emotionally stunted]
Like War?
It was not so bad to start with { always an excuse…. lacking in adult responsibility]
What, even Cain and Abel?
Very sad but it’s just a story [ Derrida,Levinas, Enid Blyton]
Don’t tell me you are a post modernist
I can be what I want , for fun you know [ repeats himself]
I didn’t know God has fun
Well you do now [ Humour]Right that is £120
What, you think I should pay? [ feels superior]
I have to live,Lord.I have a family [ childish plea]
So did I once [Sarcasm and grief]
Well, any alternative?
I’ll give you an indulgence/
How about Martin Luther?
Should he have one?
Why not, he’s just human like you.
But Hitler?
I retain the right to silence [ knows the law]Well when you stop sulking make another appointment
Can no-one help me?
Don’t give up hope.
Goodbye for now.
CBT embodies a specific view of painful emotions: that they’re primarily something to be eliminated, or made tolerable
Psychoanalysts contend that things are much more complicated. For one thing, psychological pain needs first not to be eliminated but understood. From this perspective, depression is less like a tumour and more like a stabbing pain in your abdomen: it’s telling you something, and you need to find out what. (No responsible GP would just pump you with painkillers and send you home.) And happiness – if such a thing is even achievable – is a much murkier matter. We don’t really know our own minds, and we often have powerful motives for keeping things that way. We see life through the lens of our earliest relationships, though we usually don’t realise it; we want contradictory things; and change is slow and hard. Our conscious minds are tiny iceberg-tips on the dark ocean of the unconscious – and you can’t truly explore that ocean by means of CBT’s simple, standardised, science-tested steps.
Letters: Feelings of powerlessness as a constant – as is often the case in one-to-one relationships – are the root of much mental distress
Read more
This viewpoint has much romantic appeal. But the analysts’ arguments fell on deaf ears so long as experiment after experiment seemed to confirm the superiority of CBT – which helps explain the shocked response to a study, published last May, that seemed to show CBT getting less and less effective, as a treatment for depression, over time.
Examining scores of earlier experimental trials, two researchers from Norway concluded that its effect size – a technical measure of its usefulness – had fallen by half since 1977. (In the unlikely event that this trend were to persist, it could be entirely useless in a few decades.) Had CBT somehow benefited from a kind of placebo effect all along, effective only so long as people believed it was a miracle cure?
Psychoanalysts contend that for one thing, psychological pain needs first not to be eliminated, but understood
December 30, 2023
April 1, 2020
Next PostThe hot sun seems like the fire of hell on earthSearch for: February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 September 2012 May 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011 October 2011 September 2011 August 2011 July 2011 June 2011 May 2011 April 2011 March 2011 February 2011 January 2011 December 2010
advice Angst appearance beautiful thoughts books Courage death emotion ethics feelings fiction free verse how to live humor images love nature nonsense poem poetry politics reflections society sonnet sorrow story Thinkings and poems truthfulness villanelle virtue
Email Address:
Follow
June 2017MTWTFSS 123456789101112131415161718192021222324252627282930« MayJul »Search for:
Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.
Email Address:
Follow
Join 1,789 other subscribers
Search for:
Mary was on a step ladder in the bathroom spying on her husband Stan,through a hole in the wall…which he had drilled for spying on women sunbathing nude in their back gardens. Although I would have been there for 30 years he had not yet seen a nude woman.
To her surprise she saw husband was climbing over the fence with Emile, their cat on his shoulder.
I think it’s ridiculous, she muttered .
Surely Emile, a cat, can jump over the fence by himself.
But Emile was very limp,she saw with horror
He can’t be dead, she whispered to herself fearfully.She jumped down off the and hit her head on a tap… a dangerous event for a human with weak retinae or retinas
Oh,my! That hurt…I’d better be careful.She flew down stairs and met Stan in to the kitchen
Emile has got concussion, Stan said unhappily
Is he not dead,she wondered anxiously.
No, he only fell off Annie’s roof.I am sure he’ll come to.
Good Lord.What made him go up there and more important,how did he manage it manage to climb up?
You’d better ring 999,he informed her graciously yet boldly
If you say so ,my dear.I’d do anything you ask..
Don’t put on that act! he said wantonly
I mean it.
A bit too late now.
What do you mean?
After 40 years with your mind on Wittgenstein,Dirac,Pascal and Kierkegaard,do you think I don’t know you made a mistake marrying me
But whoever I married,I’d have read those same writers…
Umphh,said Stan dolefully.
Just then Dave,the bisexual transvestite paramedic ran in.
Poor Emile,what have you done?
He fell off Annie’s roof, but we have no theory as to how he got there,said Stan.
Well, there’s no need to think of that… deal with reality.That’s my modus operandi!
He gave Emile the kiss of life.
Emile came to…but was not pleased
Why did you waken me up?I was having a lovely dream of walking down a silver path where I saw a big cat with shining fur and tender eyes looking at me.He just began to miaow when some fecking idiot woke me up… was he God?
I can’t say,Emile,dear.But please do not swear.
I’ll do whatever I fecking well feel like,he said.
Good heavens, what has happened.Has he been reading dirty books?
No, he was watching East Enders on TV… they all use the f word constantly.
Well,Emile.God will have to wait… he’ll be glad if you do some kind work here on earth.
Up yours,said Emile.I am sick of living here.I’ve been hoping for years Stan would mate with Annie but he has only managed a kiss.
Perhaps it was the kiss of life,said Mary hopefully as it pained her to think Stan no longer desired her.
Well, in a sense,you might have hit the snail on the bed said Stan thoughtfully.I know any further mention of philosophy will drive me mad!
Now,Dave said,shall I make you some tea?
Thank you Stan responded.I am half crazed already.Tea may save my sanity.But for what?
Annie came in
Did you know Emile was in a hot air balloon,she said in tones of wonder.How has he got down so fast?
I fecking well fell out,the cat yawned proudly.Then I had a near death experience until this loon here brought me round.
Emile,I’ve never heard you swear before! she whispered in a strange manner reminiscent of almost silent films starring unnames and forgotten beauties of long ago.
Do you like it,baby? Emile asked.
No I don’t. I’ve never said Feck in all my life.
Well you have now,the cat informed her with a naughty smile.
I think he’s possessed by demons.We’ll have to have him exorcised.
But I like demons,Emile bawled .I’ve been good all my life and I am bored and depressed.
So you believe swearing will help more than therapy?
Emile got up and lit a cigarette nonchalantly with a certain ,je ne sais pas.
Good grief,he’ll be having sex on the sofa next said Stan.
What a good idea,said Emile, but I want my own room and an en suite..I mean to impress the next girl friend I have.
Dave drank some tea and watched these old folk ponder.
I am wondering where we went wrong,said Mary.All these years we’ve educate you privately and even had you baptised.
Well.I am going to be a Jew,said Emile.
I don’t think a cat can be a Jew… and you never ever had any interest in the spiritual before,why this?
Well,when I was unconscious I realised that God exists….
But why a Jew?
Well,they were the first to see God in a Burning Bush..
And the last too, thought Annie nervously.
Well,said Stan.You want to smoke,swear ,make love and possibly enjoy wine and song.Is that not enough?
Does God smoke and swear?
There was a long silence and Emile answered
Well,you see,Yes he does.
I’m off said Dave.I have to ring the Pope.
Why? asked Emile.I’m not going be a Catholic….
Well,said Dave,he ought to know that God is a cat.
The Amygdala likes to sleep all day
His glowing eyes were made to see at night
Evolution is such wondrous play
God him self enjoys the sounds and sights.
.
The Amygdala is a joyful pet.
He will not bite and scratch nor scream with joy.
He sometimes swears and curses when he is wet
The Amygdala laughs until he cries.
Give your pet a name that he approves
Ezekiel, Elijaha,John or , Paul
Give him food and give him warmth and love.
Then he will reward you when you call.
Give love and receive love and enjoy
Creatures such as this are no one’s toy
Doctor,I think my husband has something wrong with him.
Thank God, I thought he was dead!
Doctor I think I’m going deaf
What?
Doctor,I have a pain in my bed
Oh,do stop moaning; get a different bed
Why do I have bad feet doctor?
You’ve got the wrong sort of ethics
Doctor,my head feels strange. .
Can’t you just laugh it off?
Doctor,where is the receptionist?
She’s at a reception.
Doctor,you look worn out.
I shall take two aspirin and see myself in the morning.
If you can’t see yourself in the morning then things are serious indeed
But will anybody else be able to see you in the morning?
Doctor I thought I saw a rat.
It’s your imitation fur bedroom slipper.
Why do my shoulders ache at night?
Forgotten to take you hydroxychloroquine? Try sprinkling a little rat poison on your food instead. That will definitely weaken your immune system but as long as it doesn’t kill you we doctors are happy to give it to you. Because it will cure your rheumatoid arthritis m,my dear
When Mary opened the door she found a large marmalade Maine coon cat asleep on her porch I’m surprised that the scent of Emile has not deterred this marmalade cat from taking up residence on the porch in the early morning sunshinezl she melurmured to herself
The cat opened his yellow eyes and glared angrily at Mary.
Alright then be so horrible if you want to be she cried out almost silently in an angry whisper
My goodness I must be getting cognitive decline to speak to a cat like that she thought to herself. I had better not tell Annie or she will be worried that I might say something like that to a human being
She left the door open and went into the kitchen to make some tea and then she noticed that the cat was walking through the front door into the hall walking on her new blue shaggy wool carpet. She could not ask him to take his shoes off as cats don’t normally wear shoes. Would a cat wear slippers if requested? Perhaps she could start a shop selling slippers for cats but then when we have to think about the claws. The problems that women have to deal with now or so enormous it’s a wonder we manage to do anything at all
Hello, she said, what do you want?
That’s not very friendly, said the cat. My name is Francisco and I live next door to you. I’ve only been there for a week and I don’t like it but I thought that you’ve got a very nice cat and so I wondered if I could come and spend some time here?
Of course you can send Mary. Would you like some tea on a saucer?
Yes replied the orange cat, and by the way my name is Marco. Changed your name already?
Marco began to drink the tea when suddenly Emile came in from the back garden through his cat flap
Is this orange cat a visitor mother he called out to Mary.
How many times do I have to tell you that I am not your mother Mary told him sincerely with a toxic severity.
It depends on whether you’re taking it literally or metaphorically Emile called out affectionately
Well well said Marco I like you Emile you sound very intelligent.
I am living next door but the people are dull and boring.
We don’t know them said Mary because they’ve been living there for a few months but they’ve not been round and when we went to welcome them they didn’t answer the door
Perhaps they’ve got social phobia Marco said.It’s not unusual now; men and women can earn a living online without leaving the house at all and they can have their groceries delivered and so on so it’s easier for them to live with their neurosis than it would have been 40 years ago
You can only cure your phobia when your desire to go somewhere or your need to earn money it’s so powerful that you are impelled to leave the house and travel while taking your fear with you in a small bag or even a very large bag depending on how afraid you are.
For example one of my friends wanted to go to Compendium bookshop in Camden town.
She was so keen to go there that she traveled for more than one hour on a bus to do it and she was rewarded by finding the novels of Carol Shields before they were published in this country. Because that bookshop imported them from North America.
After she made the journey 10 times she began to feel less frightened and eventually she lost her fear altogether. Probably somewhere in Camden town!
That’s very interesting the two cats said in unison
Then they both ran out into the garden while mewing and purring simultaneously
Mary sat down on her kitchen chair and thoughts about what Stan her late husband would have said about the advent of another cat. So she didn’t need to feed the marmalade coloured arrival. He would get fed in his own home and he would just come to her when he wanted some tea or possibly coffee although I’ve never seen a cat drinking coffee yet she thought to herself
Suddenly the doorbell rang and in ran Dave the paramedic. Mary had not seen him for a long time.
He was wearing a beautiful green dress covered in impressions of shapes of leaves and flowers
Is that you your new uniform Mary asked him punctiliously?
No I’m not working today so I thought I would call in because I’m not seeing you for a long time. Does this mean that you’re no longer need the emergency services?
Well you might just have thought so but no I’ve got an extra cat coming in here it’s possible that he might need the emergency services because he’s living next door with two withdrawn isolated technophiles and he is very unhappy.
Well who do you want to help the cat or the people Dave asked her thoughtfully?
I think at the moment we’ll just stick to the cat.
Here you are Dave have a cup of tea it’s nice to see you again after so long and I’m sure I’ll soon be needing to ring 999 I can feel my bladder contracting already at the prospect of another attack of cystitis.
Please don’t get that just to keep me in employment Dave shouted nervously.
I would prefer it if you were well and if I just came in to you socialy to show you my new clothing and to see whether you would like a dress like this?
Oh well that’s very nice of you Mary told him surreptitiously and wildly
I wish that Stan were here. He was always delighted to see you and he was very glad that you were there with him at the end
Yes it was a privilege said Dave. I always remember the last thing he said
So many lovely friends.
A tear came into Mary’s eye.
And so cry all of us
The elderflowers are turning into fruit
12 months must pass before trees flower again
I wish I had spent more time in that deep scent
Time goes fast, to know that gives me pain
The days of childhood seemed so long and full
We knew the road the pavement and the park
In the houses women worked all day
The love of mothers could light up the dark.
The shape of elderblossom is the same
Yet little berries do not look like flowers
Soon the berries swell and fall to earth.
The changes in the child take more than hours
Live while you’re alive, enrich your time
Don’t die before you’re dead, I end my rhyme
Th is my goodbye and thank you after almost two years of writing my Times poetry column. I have loved reading the piles of poetry books – thank you to all the publishers who sent them; I have also loved reading your e-mails and letters. You demonstrated how a poem in the column could go off and have another life; comments, discussions and readers’ poems abounded. And I have loved writing about the poems, trying to relate them to our hopes and anxieties as human beings in my belief that there is a poem for everyone – even a trucker on the M1 who reads nothing more challenging than his sat-nav. Because to say “I don’t like poetry” is like saying “I don’t like music”. It’s a case
https://allpoetry.com/In-Praise-Of-Limestone
If it form the one landscape that we, the inconstant ones,
Are consistently homesick for, this is chiefly
Because it dissolves in water. Mark these rounded slopes
With their surface fragrance of thyme and, beneath,
A secret system of caves and conduits; hear the springs…..
Read more using the link above
Poets need to know a lot about the world from limestone to The Great wall of China and from a baby in a pram to kings and dictators
From a priest to a Pope….
How can you see the world afresh if you have never seen it in the first place?
I found it very hard to be on the geriatric ward
They filled me full of steroids it made the going hard
I screamed and cried all night, I screamed and cried all day
I could have killed the doctor if only they had stayed
Then I knew how wars begin and why they never end
After 7 sleepless nights in there I went round the bend.
They said that it’s not you my dear, it’s all these steroid pills
The arthritis pain went better but my mind was feeling ill
If IUm could walk I said I would kill all the staff
I never knew such rage before it kept me up all night
I used to be quite beautiful but now I’m not so bright
Suddenly I went downhill and I became depressed as hell
I said let me go home right now, I’ll kill myself as well
I thought I’d killed the doctors, I thought I’d killed the nurse.
I used to feel quite guilty but now I feel much worse
But they said I was not guilty it was all a waking dream
If I had got some paper I could have made a scheme
Steroids make me crazy I feel psychotic still
I feel the anger strongly it’s stronger than my will
Send me to the Bethlehem, or else I’ll surely kill
I went in there for treatment for arthritis pain
I went down on my knees and prayed
Don’t send me there again.
If you’ve never felt this rage then you cannot ever know.
That rage that makes you want to kill The terror never goes
From Stan to Ron
Dear Ron I’m writing to you now as I had no time at Xmas with Mary wanting shopping and Emile having measles again. I I’m glad we don’t live in the USA because they might say that cats can’t catch measles.
Since Christmas life has calmed down a little.We had a party last week which went well,I believe though,don’t tell anyone,I had my mistress here doing the drinks!
I know I’m 98 but I still love women. Mary has been a good wife but she’s not glamorous enough for me.She wears a twinset and flowered skirt from Artigiano but she will have a pen clipped to the front neck, her mobile in her 46H bra and a pair of pliers hanging from her belt and as well as that her nails are rough. What puzzles me is, and again,keep this secret, when we married she was as flat as a pancake yet she’s now got a front like the prow of a ship. I guess the ample cleavage is appealing to some men but I prefer skinny women…She blames me as she never ate until we married and she got the Jewish Cookery Book…
God knows why as she was a Catholic then [but they have no cookbook].This book haseverything,cheesecakes,sponge cakes,puddings,meat loaves and we have eaten all of it. I wonder why I am still thin and she is so fat when she rides a bike to work and I drive the car….scientists don’t seem to know. Still,I have my mistress who is quite slender and Mary seems to be elsewhere mentally…She reads Philosophy in bed.Is it my fault?I am so old I can’t change… but can she?I don’t mind her doing maths but I wish she wore a pearl satin nightie with lace all over it and some perfume… she smells of bike oil and Algipan heat rub.No wonder we never have any sex life now .
Do you think maybe I should wear a nightie like that and see how she reacts?Have you ever done anything like that?We could have a chat on the phone.
It’s not so much the sex,it’s the cuddling I like and whispering in her ears.Too late as she probably is reading a manual for her camera and checking the screwdrivers and the files. She has even stolen my camera…nary a word. Still,there we go…life is hard.
Emile had a very bad bout of measles and I kept him in for 3 weeks resting in a box.I wonder if he will catch chickenpox,I find him a worry though he is funny too and can swim!He is very rare. I fear owing to the cat etc I have no real news.But I’d love to hear yours and remember,don’t tell anybody what I have confided in you.I hope we can meet in the Spring time Till then,keep well. Adios amigo Your friend Stan ps I must tell you about Satan next time,you won’t believe it
The reply
Dear Stan I am answering your letter immediately as I am very irate about your behaviour. Muriel ran away with an artist but it was all above board; we had none of this deception.Can’t you speak to Mary?She seems quite charming to me.And your fantasies of wearing silk nightdresses seem odd in a man of your age…By all means try it if it will help your marriage.Will Mary wear her tigerprint house dress?I loved it.In fact I’ve been in love with Mary for many years but backed off on moral grounds but if you are consorting with Satan and this female neighbour,I feel I ought to help poor Mary…if you divorce her.. let me know! Why does she carry pliers in her belt?Is she afraid of being attacked?As for her size,she does have a severe thryroid problem and that can play havoc with the weight. Most men would be delighted to be engulfed in her delightful bosom and to kiss her plump yet elegant neck and to embrace her with love and passion.
Apart from Xmas,the old dog Gip died and Sally has had twins so Muriel is up from St Ives.I miss her but no longer so painfully and we want to be there for Sally and Ben.He’s only two and Malcolm travels so Ben will be quite hard hit by the twins coming. So I see myself being a helping grandad doing manly things with him.I’ll soon have him changing fuses and backing up his laptop.I may even show him how to make plum wine in the autumn.Sally is breastfeading Jill and Milly so she’ll get tired out. Has your Lyra never got married?That would occupy you.Emile is sweet but he is in fact just a cat. Can you not go to the pub like other men?Play darts or gamble,smoke cigars and discuss politics… Leave that neighbour alone or I shall swoop down to protect Mary like a giant owl on LSD.I’ll kill you.
We had a roast goose for Xmas.It’s now recovered as it was only half cooked and I’ve dug a pond for it.I am mating it in the spring,I hope.. where do I buy a female goose?I am fond of goslings Now,just heed my words or I shall be very irate
Your old friend and moral adviser Ron.
How my heart speaks 