Mary gets a letter

The postman was very late coming that morning. Stan was asleep in his armchair whilst Annie was analysing some data on the political alignments of the over fifties group in Knittingham.Mary was upstairs daydreaming. Hi. Mary…Annie called.There’s a letter for you from the hospital. Mary came down, her face a little pale with anxiety.She opened it slowly.Inside it had the following announcement Your appointment on 5th October at 8 am with Dr Paramour has been cancelled.. We can offer you he following appointment: 5th October 2014 at 7.59am in the usual clinic This will be with Dr Paramour unless he goes on holiday again.He will remove your tumour and your humour 📷 Stan read the letter. Why have they sent this? he asked bemusedly as he blinked with his kind blue eyes. Mary phoned the hospital.She spoke to a charming young man. What does it mean? she enquired.Why give such a silly letter out. It means nothing,the man said,It’s the computer. Computers follow programmes.We’ve had this type of stupid letter many times in the last 6 months….it’s using paper and postage apart from the worry.Why can’t someone alter the programme? I don’t know,the pleasant man replied.I think nobody understands it. Don’t they realise that keeping patients calm and trusting is part of the healing process? No,they don’t he answered despondently. We have to answer the phone all day long.So we can hear how upset some people are. Stan called out,it’s in the government too.They wasted millions on a new system which was scrapped before it was ever used… Where are all the intelligent people? That’s what I have been wondering,thought Emile as he hid behind Annie’s new green handbag hoping a field mouse might come by I am sure if I planned the the computer programmes I could fix this,said Mary.But I will never be given a job now.I don’t think I’d want it now with my eyesight. Well,Mary,you are still very beautiful,said Stan.I think I want to go to bed with you. Stan, how can you say it in front of Annie? Well,she can come as well if she likes,he replied tactfully. And what about Emile? Oh, alright then.We’ll all go to bed even he … we need a life changing experience.And I do not mean another daft letter from that blooming hospital,The Royal Wee. We could paper the walls with them. I would not enjoy seeing the walls like that,said Annie. I am just making a point… that they waste so much money…. and time answering the phone to correct their errors………. it’s like Alice in Sunderland. I never knew she was a Geordy, mioawed Emile… I just like to think of her that way,answered Stan. Anyway,upstairs and off with your clothes… we must make love before we die even if it kills us or we have to go to A and E with angina,migraine,a broken rib or other unmentionable discomforts. And being obedient they all want upstairs,got undressed and fell asleep side by side in Stan’s large soft bed… except for Emile. I thought they were going to have a love in,he thought.Perhaps when they waken up,who knows? Maybe the NHS are trying to make people mad so they will pay for private treatment…. Mary was dreaming she was back at Lamebridge teaching real analysis to a group of frightened first year students…what a pity they are so nervous,she thought.They’d do better working in a garden centre or a zoo. And so would all of us

Emile cries:Where can a cat carry his own hanky?

Source: Kathryn

Source: Kathryn

Source: Kathryn

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

Mary tries to go out

One morning Mary went out planning to go into the town to buy some new shoes.

Are you going to buy me some new shoes too, asked Emile her little black cat

I’m sorry but I’m short of money and you’ve got four feet so it’s very expensive to buy you shoes

Well why don’t you buy them on eBay, he asked her politely

I’ve never bought anything on eBay yet said Mary thoughtfully.

How do you know about it?

I discovered that Annie gets her designer clothes from eBay because I saw a package on her doorstep with a big label on it.

Well I didn’t know that I must ask her about it Mary chortled

No no cried the cat she’ll know it’s me that told you

What do you think is going to do? She might be a bit angry.

She doesn’t want me to know that she’s sort of money and can no longer afford to buy a camel coat from Max Mara.

Well most people don’t wear camel coats now or even woolen coats.

Could it be very cruel to camels to remove their coats to give to wealthy Western women or men?Emile sighed with anxiety

Not at all, the camels are probably grateful because it’s very hot living in a desert in the Mediterranean or African part of the world.

Are there camels in the Negev?

I’m very impressed that you have heard of that desert. No I don’t think there are any camels there.

I believe you said Emile cautiously.

Because if there were any camels living there now they would have been rehoused by the Israeli government.

They would have been moved into a town and given their own passports with Israeli citizenship

We are talking about camels here, not people?

Well camels are people to other camels.

Emil it’s a great city that you did not go to Oxford and do a PPE degree like that great man David Cameron who did so much good to this country in 2016.

How are you being ironical the cat cried.

I am trying, said Mary.

Sometimes you are very trying, mother.

Emile I’ve told you before I am not your mother

Well I feel as if you are my mother and I have no other because I can’t remember anything before I was two years old

Your Mother was a cat and she fed you with her own milk

I’m really disappointed to hear that because I thought that I’d been fed by you.

Well you have been fed by me ever since you were weaned from your poor mother.

Why do you call her my poor mother?

Well I am sorry to tell you that she died a year after you were born. She lived down the street near the park and when I heard I said,

please tell the owners that ae would love to have the kitten. Stan himself went down and collected you in a special basket with a rug inside it

Perhaps it was a camel hair rug, Emile cried

I’m afraid I can’t remember but camel hair rugs are not very common in England

No I suppose dog hair rugs would be more common in England

I don’t think the English are patient enough to collect the dog hair and make it into a thread

Perhaps the English used to be patient in the past but since we had the referendum in 2016 we seemed to become like a different people altogether.

Yes,things have gone downhill a lot since we had that referendum. And wasn’t Boris Johnson involved?

I wish that Borus Johnson had gone to them with the camels in the desert wherever that might be

Perhaps we could move to a desert the cat queried

What will the expense of the electricity in the gas this winter I think a lot of people might be wanting to move to the desert but you’ve got to be careful with deserts.

Why said the cat curiously?

Because they are often used for testing weapons.

If it was still catapults and bows and arrows it wouldn’t be so bad but we cannot imagine the kind of weapons the forever available to folj with enough money to buy them.

Well that’s very sad Emile cautiously.

At the bus stop Maty met her friend Nelly

Where are you going asked Nelly?

Do you know I’ve had such a long conversations with my cat that I can’t remember anything at all so I think I’m going to go home and make a cup of tea. Why don’t you come with me; you can always do your shopping later.

The women returned to Mary’s house and sat down gratefully in the pink woollen armchairs in the sitting room

They had quite forgotten that there was no one there to make them a cup of tea but fortunately the doorbell rang and in-ran Dave the transvestite paramedic. He was wearing a camel hair coat and white hat

Thank God you’re here he cried

I just need to make some tea for somebody so that I can have some myself.

How fortunate these women were they did not realise as they were so used to being looked after by men or even cats.

That should give us pause for thought

Or as a cat’s might say

Paws for thought

And so say all of us

Shells by the Dead Sea

Stan the aged yet sexy senior citizen was outside polishing the brass doorstep till it gleamed in the early sunshine leaking from a blue and orange sky.
“My goodness,these microfibre cloths are wonderful” he thought intrigued. Could I find a better word than wonderful?

.Mary was out taking a load of clothes to the Oxfam Shop.Suddenly he heard a loud cry.,then he felt a pair of hands fondling the top of his bald head and tugging on his beard.
“Eeh,no rest for the wicked,even at 81,” he screamed.He staggered to his feet and rubbed his nose with his knees.
“Just give me a hand” ,he said,”I’ll have to stretch my hamstrings.They tighten up so.”
“I’ll stretch them for you!” Annie whispered naughtily.Stan leant forward to touch his toes and she could not resist the temptation to give his bottom a hearty slap.
“For God’s sake,Annie” he shouted faintly.”Someone might see that.”
“Don’t worry,there’s no-one around at this time of the day” she tittered in her usual female manner..
“Oh,yes there is!”
It was Dave,the paramedic.He had been lying behind the wheelie bins,all three of them standing plaintively and unwanted in the tiny front garden.
“I’m an MI5 spy,and I’ve been reading your blog,Mr Brown.”We need you to answer a question”
“I’m not called Brown”,said Stan nerdishly.
“Refuses to accept reality,”Dave wrote in his little notepad with some blood he had taken from himself earlier,
“Jesus Christ!”, said Stan.”Now,now” said Dave,”that’s not your name.
“No my name is Tan,not Brown,you’ve been reading the wrong blog!” “Stan Tan!”
Dave appeared crestfallen,”Any chairs need mending today?”
“My what beautiful ears you have,sweetheart,” he said to Annie,
“They look like sea shells by the Dead Sea”
“Your eyes are like shallow pools in Lake Windermere during a summer thunderstorm.”Annie replied womanfully,sarcasm being alien to her nature.
“Are you still a transvestite?” she followed on incoherently yet logically.
“No,I had a mystical experience and now I’m a Zen Buddhist”
“How did that happen?” demanded Stan querulously.And can’t you be both?
“Well,I was knitting myself a Shetland lace sweater in pale blue mohair,and I suddenly had the feeling that everything was interwoven.
Going forward or backwards,sideways or straight ahead,it is all part of the warp and weft of life.
“mistakes don’t matter” he continued emotionally.
“Oh,yes,they do,”Annie said pouting her full lips,cherry pink by courtesy of L’oreal of Paris and New York,lip balm by Yves St Laurent,peach foundation by Lancome also of Paris,toning smokey grey mascara by Max Factor,handbag Annie’s own,deep burgundy 70 denier tights by M&S,Grey pointed ballet slippers by Bally of Switzerland.[also available in black,red and teal].Raspberry lingerie by ,strangely,M&S.
“As I was saying..,”
Dave dived back behind the wheelie bin.
Stan polished the brass and Annie disappeared in a patch of woodbine..
It was Mary’s famous and loud vocal imitation of a bicycle bell that had alerted them to her imminent return from the Oxfam shop.
“Don’t they make bike bells any more?” Dave boringly wondered as he carried on reading the new life of Emily Dickinson “A loaded gun.” He thought it was an army training manual,but,hey,mistakes don’t matter!Or do they?Read the next instalment yesterday at your local newsagent or here free of interest,hope or love.Any additions welcome.
All donations to Oxfam.

Mary climbs a ladder

Mary was on a step ladder in the bathroom, spying on her husband Stan,through a hole in the wall.He had drilled this for spying on women sunbathing semi-nude in their private back gardens.
Here he was climbing over the fence with Emile ,their cat, on his shoulder.
I think it’s so ridiculous, she muttered .Surely Emile can jump over the fence by himself.
But Emile was very limp,she saw belatedly,
He can’t be dead,she whispered to herself fearfully.She jumped down off the ladder and hit her head on a tap
Oh,my!That hurt…I’d better be careful. she murmured and she flew down stairs to Stan in the kitchen
Emile has got concussion, Stan said mournfully.

Is he dead , perhaps,?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 do it?
You’d better ring 999,he informed her gently
If you say so ,my dear

Soon Dave,the bisexual transvestite paramedic ran in wearing a sundress and dark glasses with golden sandals from Hooters.
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… we 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 f**king idiot woke me up… was he God?
I can’t say,Emile,dear.But please do not swear.
I’ll do whatever I f**king well feel like,Emile said. nastily
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
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 utterly and eternally mad!
Now,Dave said,shall I make you all some hot tea?
Thank you Stan responded.I am half crazed already.Tea may save my sanity.But for what?
Annie came in wearing her brick red trouser suit and a white sun hat. her face a dark shade of beige and her lips light mauve, with lipstick from Max Fracture’s new range.

Did you know Emile was in a hot air balloon,she said in tones of wonder.How has he got down so fast?
I f**king 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 those silent films starring unnamed and forgotten beauties of long ago.
Do you like it,baby? Emile asked.
No I don’t. I’ve never said F*ck 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 lah

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 be a Jew?
Well,they were the first to see God in a Burning Brush.
And the last too, I hope,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,Yes he does.
I’m off said Dave.I have to ring the Pope.
Why? asked Emile. I am not going be a Catholic….
Well,said Dave, he ought to know that God is a cat.

Who is Emile?

image1 the cats
By Katherine

Mary stood in the kitchen wondering why the floor was so dirty.It looked as of a plant pot had fallen over and flung its compost wildly outwards.Emile was standing on his
hind legs pretending he could dance.
Emile, did you knock over a pot,Mary cried?
I’ve never seen a plant pot here, he replied honestly with a hint of dramatic rony
Oh,well.I’ll make some tea,Mary murmured loudly as of dropping a hint to her late husband,Stan.
She was wearing a red fleece dressing gown and slippers as she ran upstairs
to read,The Sun.
Suddenly, before she got to the top, her doorbell rang
In ran Dave, the bisexual paramedic, wearing his new dress
What’s wrong,Mary asked petulantly?
I was just passing and thought I heard a strange noise.His nose dripped like a tap with no washer
Have you got a cold,Emile asked?
Yes, but I am not selling it
Do people sell illnesses?
Yes, some buy polio germs and send tbem with Xmas Cards
To whom, asked Annie, who was in the porch.
Their enemies., of course
Well, after Brexit we might all be paralysed as half wanted to leave anmd half didn’t
Since the average reading age in Britain is 9 years most of us could not understand the information we were given.To read The Guardian you need a reading of 14.
That explains a lot,said Mary morosely.How can I teach non linear algebra to people who can’t even read the Wailing Nail?
It sounds like the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem
A nail is not a wall, said Emile furtively.
Annie was wearing some shortie pajamas with cats printed all over
which went well with her amber eyes and long nails,Can I borrow some Weetabix, she asked Mary? I’ll return it
Please don’t, Mary cried in horror.I have 3 packs of Weetabix Protein here
Do you eat them often,Annie teased her?
As often as possible!
Dave was washing Emile’s feet to practise for Maundy Thursday.
Are you Jesus, he asked Dave?
How can I be Jesus and Dave the paramedic at the same time?
Well, if you believe in the Trinity I see no problem
Emile, you are so clever.Noone would believe a cat was so brilliant
Well,said Emile, maybe I am not just a cat,; his amber eyes turned cerulean blue with joy

Please send some to us.

Cleethorpes or the Bookshop

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

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

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

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

And so will all of us.

The plants speak, a story

Charlie Blogge had gone away to visit his aged parents for a few days down in Cornwall so Rosa Benchez,his fiancee was alone except for her three cats and four houseplants which she had just brought indoors.Though she could have written a bit more in her new book
Linguistics and Peace on Earth.
Can plants feel emotion? she asked her oldest cat, Lucy who was a pretty tortoiseshell
Definitely ,said Lucy.I have known plants to get depressed when in a dark corner.
Oh,dear,said Rosa,it’s the weekend so the surgery is shut.I hope these plants don’t go into a downward spiral in their mood now that the days are shorter.I suppose I could ring 999 if they were desperate.
They won’t allow plants in the hospital,Lucy mewed.
Why not,asked Rosa angrily.That is sheer discrimination.We pay our contributions.
But the plants don’t pay ,do they.Lucy retorted cheerfully.Cats don’t get free healthcare either.
Socialism made a big mistake there, cried Rosa.Since the English prefer animals to people they would have won the Election if they proposed free pet care on the NHS
Imagine, it would have created more jobs as well, she continues academically.And plant care is needed as plants can feel ill at times.
Yes,we can, cried the Peace Lily.I feel ill knowing there is not much peace in the world.
Humans don’t realise they may win a war but the conflict makes their health suffer even if they are too old to fight.And within families ,it is just as bad.
You are so right,Peace,Rosa said thoughtfully.We always assume it is our inner conflicts that make us neurotic or physically ill,but it may be that at the back of our minds we are aware of all the wars, the refugees, the suffering.Outer conflict makes us all sick to some degree.And quarreling relatives and people who can’t apologise.
Do you have any rain water,Peace demanded.I feel thirsty.
Is that enough,Rosa cried.I can make you some weak tea if you like.
Oh,go on then, the plant told her.Give me a teacup full of tea with no sugar. nor milk How about you, she carried on turning to her sister Pax.
OK.Pax told her.Whither thou goest…
She’s Jewish,said Peace to Rosa.Her real name is Ruth.But nobody uses it as Pax is shorter.She won’t grow on the Sabbath,though.
Will you miss talking to the trees in the garden while you are indoors? Rosa asked, before any more Bible references were offered.
Yes,definitely.Can you buy a few tall,male looking plants like bamboo or even grape ivy?
We like a mixture.All living beings like a mixture of friends.
How about human friends or even cats,Rosa said tactlessly
Yes, as long as they talk in soft musical voices.And we don’t like to watch violent films on TV nor to see cats fighting on the sofa.,Peace informed her.Violence hurts our inner core
And so say all of us

Stan meetings his M.P.

Stan was thinking of going to an Evening Class.He got a brochure from the public library but there was not much in it.As he was sitting in his conservatory brooding restlessly over this he saw a looming shape pass by.It was Annie, his neighbour wearing a big rucksack.
“Annie,you are usually dressed in a fashionable and stylish even modish manner.Whence the rucksack?”
“Oh,well,you’re out of touch.Rucksacks are the new handbags according to Prada.”
“Is Prada that young lady who has just taken the flat over the florist’s?”
“No,you nincompoop,Prada is an Italian Fashion Company”.
“I think Prada would make a good name for a cat or Prado if he was a male cat.What do you think,Emile?Would you like to be called Prado?”
“Definitely not.” miaowed Emile loudly.”Prado is too full of consonants for me.I don’t like say.ing “P.”
“He sayeth not P but doeth it,just as the Prophet foretold” Stan murmured merrily to Annie.”What are you doing?” she asked him pointedly.
“I’m choosing an Evening Class but there are not many on offer.I wanted to learn Pilates but maybe I’m too old and stiff!”
“We could go to a private class in the Conservative Club.”
“I can’t go in there,not even to learn Pilates.”
The doorbell rang.It was their local M.P. Andy Pandy.
“Good evening,Sir.”
“It’s only 10 am,”Stan said rudely.
“Wait I want to record your words.”
“Why is that?”
“I may be able to sell them on-line.”
“Oh,no.That’s unlikely.I’m only a glove puppet!”
“That wasn’t what you said before the Election” Stan whispered to him.
“Well.I didn’t realise then.I thought I was a human being.”
“Like David Cameron once did?”
“Yes,only I don’t speak so posh.”
“But do you think he is a glove puppet too?”
“Yes,definitely.I’ve seen the Hand that manipulates him.”
“Why don’t you leave?”
“I have thirty children to support.”
“How come you have so many?”
“Oh,it’s quite easy if you have plenty of lovely lady friends and …”
“I’m talking about responsibility.You are a member of the Establishment.”
“Well,once I was a rebel.But a Famous Rebel will eventually be knighted.”

“So I’ve noticed.” {He’s thinking of Sir Michael Jagger who is 74]
“Why was Lucian Freud not knighted?Surely he was a deserving artist.”
“He was more of an Observing Artist.He Observed what he shouldn’t!”
“What was that?”
That very large people are beautiful like rocks in canyons and caves.and the Queen looks like an old East Ender.”
“Do you think she’s partly Jewish?”
“Well,everyone in the world has a little Jewish blood!”
“So the Queen does”
“Does she know?”
“Well it doesn’t matter whether she knows.I’m just interested.After all she’s the Head of the Anglican Church, a branch of Christianity, so as Jesus was 100% Jewish it would be an advantage to her.She might be a distant relation to him.”
“I never knew Jesus was Jewish!”
“Oh,yes I remember now.And the shepherds with their flocks….was that not here in England?”
” No and King Herod wasn’t English.Herod’s never been a very popular name anywhere really.But you know everybody in the world is probably slightly English.Just listen to them talk!They all speak the lingo.”
“But what about that song “Jerusalem” by Blake?”
“Was not Jerusalem builded here,in England’s green and pleasant land?”
“He was speaking in symbols or metaphors.”
“Why didn’t he learn English?Cymbals are just for banging.”
“Well, he was English.!”
“He was crazy.That’s typical English trait.”
“Yes,we love eccentrics.”
“Do you know any?”
“Not as such,no. But I’d love one if they lived next door.”
“Well, you could have knocked me down with a feather.when I heard that.”
“Well,Annie is a bit eccentric.”Stan thought.”She’s murdered her husband and seduced me in front of the wife.”
“No,she’s just got borderline personality disorder.I wonder who invents all these new mental disorders?”
“Well,the mind doctors need to earn money.”
“True…. send them to Afghanistan.Then we’ll see who has PTSD!”
“Now,there’s a thought!

Annie breaks into Stan’s sacred space

Stan was polishing the windows again with his big microfibre cloth.The computer was on.As soon as he finished the sitting room windows he planned to look at a google document he was co-writing with hislfriend Annie, on the failings of the British Empire..She only lived next door but they both liked sharing new techniques of various kinds.
He sat down in front of his computer and looked at his email.
There was one from Annie.

“Hi Stan
I didn’t really want to keep some of those remarks you wrote at the bottom of our document when we were both online,so I have deleted them. We should have gone into chat mode.They were not related to the topic we were discussing so I know you won’t be mind.And if you ask again we can chat either online or in person about sex and people’s lives
With my love,dearest one ,Annie

Stan felt furiously angry and cross. How could she know if he minded or not?
He went dark red as if his head was bursting.What was so dreadful about his remarks?He had only asked Annie if her dead husband George might have been bisexual.Stan had once seen him kissing another man in the bushes in the park.Annie didn’t seem bothered last night.She never gave the impression to me she didn’t like it.Maybe she’s not quick enough to react
Anyway she should not have deleted it completely without asking me first.
He sat down on his old Habitat chair [recently mended free on the NHS by Dave the paramedic,] and he sent her an email saying he was furious with her for attacking his freedom of speech.It was unethical.It .He must assert himself.He would show her!
So he was not going to work with her on any more documents ever again nor chat on IM or Google Chat. Of course he still loved her but his anger was too strong for him to ignore.

When Annie got the email she was completely stunned like a cow ready to be e.She apologized to Stan immediately but he refused to accept it ever even though she begged piteously for forgiveness.
Why did he want to know if George was bisexual, she wondered.Was he saying it to try to turn himself on or me? Or is he just interested in all different kinds of sex and human behavior generally ,like most people are ?But it was not concerned with the document which was about ill treatment of prisoners in India under the British Empire and relating it to other acts of outrage by the British Government elsewhere.
I wanted to talk about us,not poor dead George.Whatever George’s sex life,he’s dead now.So l we should leave him in peace.
Meantime.Stan was thinking about how women were always interfering in his life,correcting him and improving his grammar.Making him cups of tea when he wanted brandy and some HP sauce with his lamb chops not salad
He liked talking about bisexuality.It made him feel a sense of wonder at the differing habits and desires of humans.Why couldn’t she just go along with it or at least say something then rather than deleting his words secretly when he was off-line?Though maybe mentioning George was insensitive even though George was dead.
He was a man .He was not going to let a woman ride over him like a steam roller. Annie must learn her place in the scheme of things.

Where is that,asked his beautiful tom cat Emile.
I’m not sure but it’s not above me.It’s either the same or lower.
Can’t you forgive her.She may be in another dimension,another space altogether,another universe of discourse?[He’d been reading his Wittgenstein again]
Certainly not .No way.Stan answered,
But you love her,you said many times in here.I heard you
All the more reason to maintain some boundaries. Love is not the be all and end all of life for a man!
Next she’ll be cutting bits off me with her dressmaking shears,he cried in outrage and horror!
She’ll castrate me.She’ll turn me into a woman.

She won’t,she’s just a daft postmenopausal woman,said Emile.She wouldn’t ever harm you.she’s very gentle.you know that,don’t you?
She has invaded me,she has crossed my boundary.
Some people would be glad,mewed the cat.He was always hoping a lady cat would come by. and cross his boundaries or more correctly.he would be allowed cross hers.
Meanwhile Annie was sitting sobbing feverishly in her bedroom.She really enjoyed co-writing documents and news sheets with Stan.Now he won’t do it any more, she whispered . He was really mad with her.He must be feeling upset and aggravated beyond all human endurance.She had assumed too much and now she was paying the price as she lay on her purple duvet cover with two boxes of Kleenex for men.Even finding the Kleenex required for all her sobbing was too much for her.

She cried and sobbed loudly for a while.Her eyes were bright red and bloodshot. She was so very sad she had unwittingly distressed dear Stan.Life is so tough she thought reluctantly.I wish I were somewhere else……maybe in Heaven with George and his bisexual lovers beside all playing harps or mouth organs and whatever else the could find up there.
Still,there were those new neighbours who had just moved in across the road.Two brothers,both very handsome.I wonder if they like writing on the computer,she thought.That cheered her up a bit,though she was very fond of Stan.In fact she loved him greatly and had kissed him many times though she had never actually gone to bed with him ;never known him in the biblical sense.Was that the problem?Too late now either way,she muttered quietly to her goldfish Wayne who agreed with her analysis of the situation .
So in her mind she was moving from loving and adoring Stan to being loving towards yet puzzled by him.Was he afraid of being dominated by a woman?What would he be like as a lover?

But why try to talk about bisexuality?Could he not have thought of something else?Like female orgasms or kissing better?
There was a new book by Betty Dodson teaching frozen women how to have orgasms.Would he have enjoyed discussing female anatomy and pleasuring her naked female body and all the rest.
Well,she would never know now.That was certain.Thank God I’ve found out what he’s like before things went any further.He might be a little too dominating.Though a certain amount is necessary for the consummation of love.She was so upset her thoughts began to turn towards women.
Would it be better all round to love a woman instead?Especially as I could show her how to have an orgasm having being studying this book for some weeks?Though she may already know,I guess.Still,a change is as good as a rest, so the proverb says.
How do I find a woman who’s into other woman, as it were, she thought.Can I find one on the internet?Will there be a club we can go to? How exciting!
So Annie grew more optimistic.A woman wouldn’t mind a few words deleted from a chat either.So a feeling of mild joy came over her and her sobbing died down.

Stan was sitting in his kitchen feeling superior and dominant.Except Annie had not come for coffee so it was hard being dominant all by himself.He began to feel depressed and morose.Should he change his mind?Would he lose his window of opportunity?
Why is life so trying.Why are women so manipulative, why do they all turn out fakes and bitches,he asked Emile.Why won’t they love me as I am?
It’s partly one’s own character,Emile replied.
Hearing this Stan lost his temper and threw the kettle of boiling water at Emile.Luckily it missed but Emile stalked out and went off to the shed leaving Stan more alone than ever.
How hard life is Stan shouted. I feel like topping myself. I”ll jump off the roof. of the civic center.I’m going to ring the f*****g Samaritans.
Just then his wife Mary walked in.What’s up Stan?
Nothing dear.I just dropped a brick on my toe
Why have you got a brick in here,in the lounge?
I was playing with it.
With a brick?
Well,it has a certain cold masculinity,he replied assertively
Cold masculinity?. Shall I make some drinks? Mary asked tenderly
Yes,please,dear,very kind
Oh,look there’s Annie walking past arm in arm with a woman.
I knew George was bisexual but now I see she is also or maybe she’s turned quite gay!Were they both gay?
Well,it’s not our business,said Mary quietly.
Aha,thought Stan.That’s what you think.If only you could see inside my mind!Inside his mind though ,he was wondering if Annie would ever see him again.But I will not forgive her,I won’t.I won’t!
What he might have said more truthfully was “Can’t”
For indeed,it is hard to forgive people for trampling into one’s sacred space even if it is an accident or misjudgment not a deliberate attempt to dominate.but …….
Life is sweet and yet very hard too for all of us but forgiveness helps

Kleenex logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Stan teaches a class a sense of proportion (wordscat.wordpress.com)
Killer of Sheep (Charles Burnett, 1977) (oldrockinchair.wordpress.com)

The creaks of loving:Stan gets a surprise

A surprise

Stan and Annie have been having such a lovely time since Mary went off.Stan has quite given up his addiction to microfibre cloths and polishing the windows.He and Annie can now make love at night and go out for trips in the day time.
Emile’s diary is getting quite full although he is worried he may bebanned from sleeping on the foot of the bed soon as he may be in their way.How will he know what they get up to?

Luckily there is a gap at the bottom of the door so he should be able to see them in the mirror opposite the bed.They usually light the bedside lamp so as to see into each other’s eyes.
~Annie is a very bold,confident woman.Despite being rather plumper than is medically advised she loves her body and lives happily in it now she has true love.
One morning Stan goes down to make some tea whilst

Annie comes to.

“Stan,come here quickly!”

“What’s wrong,my little lamb chop?”

“I feel sick!”

“Was it those old sausages we ate up last night?”

“No,it’s a different sort of sick!”

“You don’t mean………..?”

“Yes,Stan,I’m afraid a miracle has happened!”

“But you are 55 and I’m 90.Surely we can’t have a baby!”

“Well,the ways of God are strange.” she murmured.

“I don’t want to bring God into it.” he riposted.

“Are you not pleased we are still fertile?” she asked

him humorously.

“Well,in the abstract I might be but in the concrete it

could be awkward.” he said furtively

“What do you mean?”

“Well,Mary will be coming back in a couple of months,you

know”

“We don’t have to tell her you are the father.I could

pretend it was the new Vicar at St Andrew’s”

“But he’s gay!”

“Not many men are able to resist my charms and skills.”

“I can believe that,”Stan answered lubriciously.

“But will you have to seduce him soon before he notices

you are pregnant>”

“I wasn’t thinking of actually going to bed with

him,”said Annie with a smile.

“Oh,dear.I was looking forward to that,”Emile murmured

under his breath.

“That would have made my diary into a best seller.”

“Gay vicar seduces middle aged harlot who is now

expecting.”

It sounds a bit like the old Bible stories except they

had no vicars in those days.But miracles like older

women bearing children did happen so…who knows?

Stan and Annie got dressed and went into the kitchen.

They were both looking confused.

“You don’t want an abortion do you?” he enquired

tenderly.

“No way.” she replied softly.

“I love you so much,I could not wish for more than to

bear your child.~”

“In that case,I’ll tell Mary.She is a very wise woman in

many ways,though a bit lacking in the earthjer side of

life.She has not slept with me for thirty years or

more.”

“Perhaps she thought you were too old?” said Annie.

“No,she never enjoyed it.She just put up with it as she

wanted a baby.”

“Maybe you did not turn her on!”

“I did my best,but she preferred reading Proust and

Wittgenstein.”

“I wonder of she has Asperger’s syndrome?”

“Well,they do find social life trying but I suppose she

can’t blame you for loving another?”

“No,she’s very broadminded.I’ll suggest we all move in

together.I’ll divorce her but she can have the big

bedroom and we’ll have the guest room with the en

suite.”

“I think this will be fun.”

“Well,not all of it but it will be intriguing,”

“So no need to seduce the Vicar,then?”

“We’ll leave him out of it.He might fall in love with

you and then what would happen?”

“God only knows,”She answered humorously as she went

into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

Read more about this next week or it may be too late!

Baptism by love:Stan suffers in the Rehab Unit

Art by Katherine

After church on Sunday Mary decided to visit Stan , her elderly ,gentle and frail husband in the Rehabilitation Unit where he had been sent recently by a strange physiotherapist…He was unhappy as the diuretics made him pee even mo e often than he used to do and he got very worried about it because his bad heart made it extremely hard for him to walk.
When she went into the small four bed ward she saw Stan sitting on his chair without any pyjama trousers on even though it was visiting time from 3 to 8 pm.
Why has he no trousers on? Mary asked a nurse angrily, her blue eyes full of unshed glistening tears which almost washed off her turquoise mascara and made runnels in her honey beige foundation by Rimmel of London and Paris
He keeps wanting to go to the toilet so it’s easier for us all if he has no pants on,the nurse told her haughtily.He’s on diuretics,you see as he has water in his lungs and other inner organs and the water has to be removed from his body,Sheila ,the nurse announced ina cold voice
What about the lack of dignity in baring him to the world,Mary enquired softly yet piercingly her eyes dripping tears again.
Dignity,what’s that? the nurse said insolently.He is just a pest. And old men don’t deserve any attention.We are tired of them.They should all die now.Thats’s government policy it appears
Emile who had hidden in Mary’s old,but good olive green Radley leather handbag let out a sound like a banshee in Cork or a demon in a nightmare.
The nurse looked quite frightened
What’s that? she whispered to Mary behind her hand.
It’s probably Satan coming to say ” hello” to you as you seem very wicked to me.Mary informed her politely yet honestly in her Northern way.
Oh my,what shall I do? the nurse asked in a trembling voice.I am so upset now.
You could try reading the Ten Commandments,Mary riposted jocosely… if it’s not too late.
Or recalling the Golden Rule………
I’ve never heard of the golden rule,said the nurse.Is it a measuring instrument of some unusual type?
Yes,in a sense it is,Mary said.It measures us by our compassion towards others.And you seem to have none for Stan.Can you not imagine what it’s like being a man sitting half naked in a public room with no recourse?
What’s a recourse,Sheila, the nurse, asked her thoughtfully,Is it a garment like a dressing gown?
No,it’s a a source of help in a difficult situation.It’s a remedy or an option
I have a higher degree in nursing,Sheila boasted stupidly.
I don’t care if you have a doctorate in nursing and philosophy,Mary cried.It’s what you do and say to the patients that counts.And going to an evening class in English would do you no harm.Your vocabulary is limited,to say the least.And words are useful whatever job you do.Or even if you are unemployed it helps you deal with bureaucrats
Oh,dear,said the nurse,I am sorry for being so thoughtless.I am always thinking about sex,love and clothes instead of the patients.I see now I have fallen into evil ways and hope I can improve a little.
You have been cruel, said Mary.And seeing my aged husband like this is breaking my heart.
She went over to Stan and sat by him.He fell against her bosom hungrily.Alas it was not for erotic reasons.His blood sugar was only 2 and his BP was 60/40.He was dying there with no trousers on and with no-one but Mary to help him… and Emile, their small intelligent black cat ,of course.Unfortunately Emile’s trousers were too small for Stan

.Mary wrapped a bath towel around Stan and held him in her arms.
Stan tried to speak but Mary could not make out what he was saying.Tears ran down her beautiful lined and wrinkled face and dripped onto Stan’s head.I suppose one might say it was a kind of baptism by love.Now Stan will be entering a new dimension and will be given a new and better name by One who cannot be named here.But you catch my drift?

Judgement is mine says the Lord.

The Messiah is a cat

The Vatican by Mike Flemming 2015.Copyright
Stan awoke feeling very thirsty.My, this bed is much too hard,he thought.He put out his hand and felt some wood not far away.It was his desk.
Emile was lying on his stomach purring.
You fell out of bed,the little cat miaowed.Luckily I clung on with my claws and I am ok sleeping down here….I can see any mice better.
Well,it’s not ok with me,Stan informed him gently.How can I get up from here?
He picked up the Cambridge Companion to Sylvia’ Plath and banged on his desk softly.
Mary was awake and heard a strange sound.She got up and found Stan lying on the floor with his head by his desk.
Emile wanted to sleep by the wall,you see.,he told her.
Then he rolled over and I fell out.

http://youtu.be/pT9CdnfFET8

That is logically and scientifically unsensible,Mary told him.Surely Emile is not so big that his weight was enough to knock you out of the bed?It is against the law of g.ravityAnyway,why don’t you get up?
I like it down here,the old man lied to her.
OK Mary said,then she picked up the phone and rang 999.
Hello,she said.My cat is very upset as he feels guilty for pushing my husband out of bed.
How terrible for you,the man answered.I’ll send an ambulance right away.
Mary opened the front door and left it unlatched whilst she lit the electric lights with a match.

How do you feel Stan,she enquired

.I am thirsty,give me so brandy,he ordered her politely as he was very full of kindness.

They said not to let you or Emile drink or eat.

Blooming ridiculous,he told her in a manly fashion
Soon the ambulance arrived and the paramedics were running up the stairs to seee the poor cat.
Mary fainted so they laid her on the bed whilst they comforted Emile and cleaned his paws.
Then they picked up Stan and laid him right next to Mary,his wife.
Why don’t you have a bigger bed,one asked Stan.
Bigger than what,he responded academically.
Well,if you were any fatter you’d not be able to get laid with your wife.
True,he replied but I am 96 you know.I have erectile malefaction already and am unwilling to have more mistresses and lovers or even concubines.
I shall make you some tea the female paramedic told them forcefully
Well,you don’t seem to be hurt,the other one told Stan, but the cat may need therapy or counselling because of the guilt he will feel.
He’s not a Catholic I hope.
No, he’s Jewish,Stan shouted nervously.
That’s alright then.He can have concubines if he chooses.How do cats get to be Jewish? anyhow
It’s their souls,Mary said…they are all waiting up there for a suitable place to be reborn and some choose to be cats.
But how can you tell? he asked wonderingly.They have no prayer shawls
They miaow in Hebrew,Mary said loftily.And they like to sing the psalms before bed.
But how do you know it’s Hebrew,he replied.Do you speak it?
No, it’s just he hates bacon and peperoni and always wears a hat so it seems he must be one of Jesus’s friends,but not Judas of course.I suppose Jesus wore a hat but it’s never been found as yet.Not even being sold as relics.

.http://youtu.be/8SCorW9r_Is

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

Stan and the angel

7907364_f520

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

Thoughts about fiction and reality

Charles Dickens,the great novelist of Victorian England
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Dickens
Fiction is invented,of course, by novelists and writers.And we also have lies which are slightly different.The truth of fiction when well done comes from the use of the true imagination based on genuine interactions with what is other than ourselves and is a way of depicting the truths of the heart.

The true imagination can only be effective when it is not fantasy based on mere wish fulfillment.To me that is what Buddhism is about.We desire nothing in order to get everything and more.

Lies,on the other hand ,may be for purposes of manipulating other people or may be the product of fantasy which is common in children who “make believe” they are having a birthday party because they want one so much.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_best-selling_fiction_authors
I might say fictional writing in novels or poetry using the true imagination helps us to understand complex reality better..Lies can be very destructive.And we have the kind of language used in the novel 1984 by George Orwell where black can mean white and death merely.termination of life…. we have begun to hear a lot of this and it does have an utterly bad and even destructive effect on personal and political life.The most famous example is when some politician was lying but it was referred to as being “Economy with the truth”.It’s our intentions which count to in making us moral agents.We may lie so smoothly we feel it will have no illl effect.

Imagining what it is like to be another person as in Dicken’s great novels about the poor is very powerful and can change government policy via changing people’s hearts and minds.

I feel imagination does have this purpose of making us feel for others and bring us closer even to murderers and criminals when the writer makes their world something we can comprehend.

Reality is very complex which is one reason we have all the arts,science,mysticism,religion as they all look at or relate to different aspects of life.

Plain lying is a selfish activity for our personal benefit or to avoid trouble when we have misbehaved.And we weave a web of destruction

Emile and his cat therapy:On the sofa with myself

Emile’s pyscho-analyst

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

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

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

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

In the bin to sin

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 change1!”.
“What a strange idea” he replied philosophically.however age was no obstacle where love was involved. if you catch my drift.You can or you can’t or you improvise.
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 for the illicit lovers they heard Mary’s bicycle bell.She was getting faster amd faster at shopping.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 heartily.”Get out at once”
“Don’t speak to me like that” Stan beseeched her brazenly.
“Well,it’s a bit of 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.”Mary responded
“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.
“Have you got your mobile on you?”
“Yes,it’s here in my bag.
“You’d better call 999”
“What a brilliantly original non-idea!”
Soon Dave the paramedic arrived.
Mary showed him Stan’s situation.
Ever resourceful ,Dave was not bothered though the NHS budget might be getting cut.
He tied some rope round Stan’s waist and between the three of them and Emile the cat and his friend Elizabeth, they managed to haul him out.
Annie stood weeping with shame.Her silvery blue eyeshadow was beginning to run mixed with tears and black water soluble mascara from Chanel of Paris and London. Her new coral lipstick from Clinique was not as non-allergenic as she hope.Never mind,it gave her lips that bee stung look that many men admire.It reminded Stan of his boyhood days playing near High Force Waterfalls in upper Teesdale….Teesdale ,still an undiscovered and undervalued part of England,Contact the English Touring Board for more information. Holiday Loans available from Thwaites of Stockton and Darlington at only 1% interest.
Mary gave Annie a large Kleenex tissue,
“Come indoors,honey, and I’ll make you some Ceylon tea.It’s been the most thrilling event of my entire life and I’ve photographed you with my new Nokia camera phone [Prices available on request from The Catphone Warehouse,Teesside,Northern England,comes in pink and pink and…pink?How I love pink!]
I’m going to send some to the local paper.
Stan staggered upstairs covered in bits of privet ,lettuce and cabbage hearts, and carrot tops,not to mention a few dozen banana skins and a few potato peelings.
What an afternoon.[Please contact the society for the care and protection of vegetables if you wish to make a complaint about this story.}
“That’s the last time I climb into a green wheelie bin”,he thought.
“Next time we’ll use the cardboard and newspaper wheelie bin instead

The anniversary

Stan was wearing his best suit topped by a denim apron polishing the big windows with a microfibre cloth as he waited breathlessly for his stunning wife.Mary entered the room wearing a long purple and mauve dress which clung somewhat tightly to the curvaceous contours of her beautifully rounded body.On her feet she had some smart pewter ballet slippers and in her elegant hand she carried a huge pewter clutch bag which contained some of her many medications.She addressed Stan,”I think I can leave my handbag behind if I put my mouth spray into my bra.”
“That somehow detracts from the romance of the evening.” Stan pronounced openly.

“Well,you know,I never had a cleavage until lately and I fell I ought to make the most of it.”

“Surely I should be the one make the most of it,” he riposted jocosely.
“Of course you may.my angel,but not in the restaurant,”she answered back sweetly
“I’ll put your spray in my pocket then,shall I?”
Suddenly the doorbell rang.”Who’s this?”It was Annie,their next door neighbour. she was wearing a coral velvet track suit with matching Reeboks and sun hat .”Hi,I just came in with a little prezzie,”She declaimed.In her hand was a huge box of chocolates..”Gosh,Mary you look lovely in that beautiful long dress but you’re not going on your bike,are you?”
“No,we are having a cab,but it’s not come as yet.”
“Well,never mind.I’ll ring 999 and get them to send an emergency ambulance for you!”
Fortunately,as luck would have it the minicab appeared from the sky and it was only as they were entering the restaurant that Stan realised he was still wearing his old denim apron.
“Shall I take it off?” he pondered.
On the pro side I will look smarter on the con side I might spill some soup down my front.I wish I’d done more logic at college.So he kept it on.Mary didn’t seem to notice.She just took him for granted.If he stood on his head and sang”Jerusalem” she probably wouldn’t pay any attention.
Then he noticed that Mary was wearing an apron too.It was the same colour as her dress.What a brilliant idea,he thought.”There may be money in this.” He could start a small business,”Aprons R You” selling lovely aprons in all colours of the rainbow.
Suddenly he heard noises;he awoke and heard Mary shouting “How can you go to sleep when you are out with me?”
“Would you prefer me to recite the Periodic Table?” he snapped gently.
“I’d prefer a poem,” she cried…All right,Petal,I’ll think of one soon.In the meantime would you like a fool?” “No.I’ve got you,” she responded handsomely.
“I mean for a pudding?” “Oh,yes please.A Rubik fool would be lovely.It will pass the time.You know I get so bored.”
“Well,I do my best but it’s hard keeping up with you.would you like to read a few truth tables whilst I finish my meat.”
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small leather bound book.
“Truth tables and levitation for geniuses,” by Bertha Russell.
“Oh,Stan,this looks interesting.I’ve always wanted to fly like an angel or an owl.”
“It’s never too late to say never.” he responded.”Whatever do you mean?”
“I don’t know.Just because a sentence is grammatically correct doesn’t imply that it means something.”
“Yes,quite right.And conversely a sentence can mean something even when it’s not grammatically correct.”
“Isn’t thinking exciting!”
“Yes,indeed.I was thinking how exciting it will be to go to bed with you.”
“Wow,good grammar and full of meaning.I am yours.I am like a ripe plum ready to drop off the tree.I am a cat ready to mate.I am a song waiting to be sung.”
“Gosh,are metaphors your bete noir?”
“Je ne parle pas Francais.

Aimez vous ein Nederlander?”

“Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
Ist sein mutter immer krank?”

And so they trotted off happily to bed like two pigs in clover,as Shakespeare might have said when pissed.

Bionic therapy with Annie and Emile

Peter Fried,the Bionic psychoanalyst ,who had recently arrived in the fine midland town of Knittingham, had noticed that whilst he was practising “free floating attention” with his patients an image of a cat peering in the window behind the couch was troubling him.He hoped it was not some hallucination transferred from the Unconscious of one of his patients into his consciousness.

Still,having a black cat looking in the window was by no means the most unpleasant optical illusion he had ever suffered.In a way,it was quite sweet.
He was back in his “home” flat boiling some eggs for his supper when the doorbell rang.He opened it cautiously with a sort of excitement. mixed in.There stood a strikingly attractive woman wearing a purple coat and a red hat with matching red ballet flats and a bright green designer handbag from TKMaxx.[£29.99 and well worth it]
Hello,I thought I’d introduce myself,I live across the street next door to Stan and Mary..my name is Anne..How are you settling in?
She walked confidently through his flat and into the new dark teak kitchen with its gleaming work surfaces and marble pastry rolling strip…. though Peter never made pastry himself.
Eggs!Are you a curry lover?By pure chance and serendipity I have a tin of vindaloo sauce here.I could pour it over these eggs.

Should we not remove the shells first?Peter asked with a just hint of humour.
Definitely,leave it to me.I’ve brought some naan bread and some brown rice too
How did you know I was boiling six eggs?Why Emile told me,of course!

Emile….is he black?
Some people call him black,others say he’s mixed race.
Let’s not argue about semantics or political correctness,he replied discourteously.
I don’t even know what semantics, are she screeched softly into his left ear.
Well,that is no barrier to arguing about them,he replied diplomatically.
Well,it’s senseless, she answered kindly.”I am not a person who enjoys an argument.Go and sit down,read the paper and I’ll finish preparing the curry dinner.

Is it common around here to have an unknown woman come in to cook your dinner?Peter asked Anne.
No,it’s the height of sophistication,she said judiciously.It’s just with you being new I wanted to meet you to see if you need any assistance in your work.I don’t need money,I like to serve the community in some way.Of course I am Stan’s mistress but as he’s in a bad temper today I’ve not seen him.I suspect he is growing tired of me.

Are you married,Peter asked her.
No,but I was once.My husband ran off with his brother’s wife,so we decided to pretend they were both dead.
That’s intriguing,said Peter,I am married but my wife developed an allergy to my skin.She could not bear to touch it so it became awkward… very awkward.
Fancy, and you a therapist too,she murmured softly,So where is she now?
Oh, she lives on the Isle of Man,near Peel.I do go to see her now and then… and there are lovely sunsets over there… you can see the Mountains of Mourne.
Are you lonely, she asked him very emotionally.

No,I see seven patients a day..
But that’s not the same as having a wife or a friend.
Since my wife’s allergy,I am afraid to touch another woman.
How sad,cried Anne…I have very thick skin.Would you like to touch me? she said seductively

Perhaps another time,Peter said in a kindly way,But thanks for being so generous.I am touched by your amiability and femininity and your kindness in introducing yourself.
Let’s eat the curry before we die of hunger.
They sat down at the kitchen table to eat the egg curry when they saw some amber eyes gleaming at the window.

Oh, dear,There’s Emile again.
Will he tell Stan?
Probably,but actually Stan no longer wants me.Yet Emile adores me.He will be jealous… he’s a cat,but he has the feeling of a man.
And indeed Emile’s eyes were gleaming like those of a tiger… he began to speak through the window glass.
Would you mind if I had some curry? Stan never makes it… I love spices
Why not? said Peter.
Emil’s plan was to get near Anne but first he had to eat the vindaloo egg curry.He took a mouthful..my,it was hot.His eyes began to water and his nose ran…. all round the room.He mioawed piteously
I need a hanky.
We shall have to ring 999,muttered Anne.
What! Do they tend to cats?
They usually have some hankies for cats….
So without any further ado,she took out her Samsung mobile phone and rang.
I don’t know how I shall get on living here,thought Peter.
He ran across the room and jumped into the washing machine with the tea towels and kitchen cloths.
Will he escape?
Buy the next chapter…only three shilling and sixpence or free with the Daily Wail tomorrow…order now for next life delivery!

Stan meets the new curate

Stan was reading the paper at 9 pm when,to his surprise,the front door bell rang.Emile,his delightful tomcat who was asleep,nearly jumped out of his warm furry skin.Stan opened the front door cautiously.
“Goodnight,sir.” remarked the handsome man standing there.
“Goodnight?”Said Stan confusedly,”Bur I’ve never seen you before.Are you the sandman who comes to put children to sleep?”
“Good evening,sir.” the man continued,”I’m so sorry my English is so poor.I am , still studying David McChrystal’s Cambridge Encyclopedia of the English Language and I’m still a trifle mystified.”
“What do you want?”Stan asked him.”What do I want?I want to study philosophy,write a novel and meet a stunningly attractive young lady with brown eyes and dark hair.”
“No,no.” said Stan”I mean,why are you here?”
“A good question,why are we here?Do we have a mission in life or are we here as a result of mere chance and happenstance or even serendipity?”
“I mean,why are you here ringing my doorbell at this time of the night?”
“Shouldn’t that be evening,sir?” The stranger enquired sardonically yet politely.
“Look.are you after something?”
“Well,I’m after a young lady at college though so far I’ve not managed to meet her one to one.”
“Well,faint heart never won fair lady!”Stan advised him.
“What’s happening,”called Mary from her study where she was reading a critique of Principia Mathematica for the seventh time.
“God only knows!” said Stan.
Mary came to the front door.She wore a green silk blouse with a jade necklace, a pair of smart jeans from Per Una and some pink trainers with yellow laces.On her face she wore Lancome of Paris light beige foundation,strawberry pink lipstick and purple mascara from Clinique.Her perfume was by Beyonce.Buy all this with one click on the link below.
“Goodnight,madam” said the stranger.
“I think that’s so rude,” said Mary.”If you’ve never met someone before it’s inappropriate to say goodnight.”
“Well,you aren’t in bed,” he replied laboriously.
“What the hell has that got to do with it?”
“Inappropriate is often used to refer to sexual behaviour.”
“Well,for crying out loud,who are you?” she whispered politely.
“I’m the new curate!”
“I’m Polish.”
“Well,I’m sorry I don’t know a single word of it.would you like to speak in Latin?”
“Ite,missa est!”The curate exclaimed.”Uno reductio ad absurdum”Stan muttered.
“That’s Italian,UNO” cried Mary.
“Well,it’s pretty similar.”
“Well,I must go,”said the curate amxiously.
“You’ve not been yet so how can you go?”
“I don’t know,sir.Good evening,good afternoon,good morning.”the red face man screamed as he ran hurriedly down the garden path.
“Are we Catholics now?”Mary asked Stan.
“Oh,I can’t remember,” he said.”Do we go to church?”
“Well,we may be non-practising,I suppose.”
“Perhaps we’d better start practising,” he murmured affectionately.
“Oh,if you insist,” she replied in an unwifely roguish tone.
“That’s right,blame it all on the man.In my experience it’s you who is keener than me.”
“What are you talking about?”she enquired seductively.
Suddenly the door bell rang.It was the curate.”Goodnight” he called.”goodnight”
“Goodnight,” they responded in their reserved English fashion.
“Mioaw” cried Emile,”Mioaw,miaow,miaow.

In the box with Father Knox

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

Emile’s picnic

Source: Kathryn

Emile has a picnic

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

Would you like to come,Emile?Stan murmured.

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

How about a tin of sardines?Stan asked tenderly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’d prefer sandals,responded the striped cat sensibly

Why is that,my dear,Stan asked lovingly.

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

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

Yet..What is a cat without its claws?

What is a wasp without its sting?

What is a woman without her temper?

What is a man without……………..

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

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

That’s my new apron,Mary confessed.

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

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

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

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

Did he wear a hat? Stan asked her curiously

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

Well,that is just politeness.Stan remined her

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

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

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

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

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

.Did he solve it? Stan asked her.

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

Where did you get those from?Stan quizzed her politely

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

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

The end.

Stan takes Satan on holiday Part 1

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

Stan meets Satan in the mirror

Stan was standing on the patio behind his bijou home when a sudden heavy downpour of water drenched him all over.
This is like a monsoon,he murmured to Emile who was also wet and drowned looking
A head and neck appeared over the dark wooden fence.
I’m awfully sorry,old boy.A pipe has burst in Annie’s loft.I tried to fix it myself.
I don’t believe it.You are Stan Brown.It must be 50 years since I saw you.
Stan was hiding his surprise at seeing Rudolf Hairnet,his former logic tutor at an ancient foundation, in the garden of Annie,Stan’s beloved colourful mistress.
Why not pop in Rudolf,he said.I’ll leave the door open and go upstairs to change my clothes.Be with you in a moment.
Stan went upstairs and removed his clothes.His body was now as thin as when he reached his full height of 6 ft 6 inches but alas it had less muscle and more fat. nowadays.He gazed into his wife’s full length mirror.
To his surprise, he saw Satan looking out.Although he knew this was possible for Catholics he had never met Satan before.Not that he was keen to,exciting as it might be.
How do you get behind the mirror,he asked Satan gently.
God only knows,said Satan morosely.
Why not ask him?
I’m too proud,the poor devil replied in a bleak voice.
Well,we all have our pride,Stan told him,though no doubt yours is the biggest in the universe.
Yes,indeed,Satan answered.It’s bigger than Everest
Are you here for any purpose,Stan enquired.
Yes,your home seems more intriguing than most and I like to watch you in bed with that flame haired woman… is she your paramour?
I see,said Stan,You are a voyeur par excellence
That’s one way of describing me,Satan said,No woman will come to bed with me so I am trapped here behind every mirror in the world.I can see it all but never take part.
You must be very lonely,said Stan
Yes,the dark spirit muttered painfully
Are there no she-devils about who might oblige you?Stan asked him thoughtfully.
I don’t seem to fancy them so much.They are all as bad a me,I want kindness and tenderness not just lust.After all,one might satisfy that with a vibrator… we have them in hell you know!We have many things but love and humility are not there.
Why,you are beginning to sound almost human,Stan told him.We want love too.If only you would apologise to God I am sure he would forgive you and let you come into the real world of others instead of being trapped in there
Stan heard a noise.He turned round displaying his bony frame and his drooping organs to Rudolf.
Are you ok? I was worried that the drenching had knocked you off balance.I have out your kettle on the fire to make you a hot drink and phoned 999 for aid.
But we don’t have a fire,Stan responded.
Well,you do now said Rudolf,so let’s enjoy the flames while we can.To whom were you talking in there? he enquired grammatically.
I was on my mobile,said Stan defensively.
But where is it?You had nothing on ? On second thoughts,please don’t tell me .I’ve heard some strange stories but arsing about with a y phone is not one I wish to dwell on.
That’s logicians for you.No interest in the wilder shores of life.Stan told himself as he went downstairs and joined Rudolf for a good cup of tea.
And that is what I need to recover from writing down this very odd tale…
And so does Dave the poor innocent young paramedic from heaven who is just arriving as we leave these two dear old men sitting by the mysterious burning shrub….

Stan and Mary meet each other in town and discuss 48 hour antiperspirants

Mary Brown had spotted her 98 year old husband Stan; he was across the road with a young blonde and stunning lady.She ran across the road risking being flattened by a n large bus which was only yards away.She knew Stan was very fond of women despite being married to her.
Stan,hi!Who is your pal? she enquired quietly
Why,this is Sabrina Smith.She is a mathematician from Stanford. in the USA… on a year exchange visit here in Knittinghan.
Why,hello,Sabrina Stan loves clever women… and in your case,you also have beauty as well.I am Mary.
Hi Mary,Stan told me you were out buying some Vaseline in the pharmacy
.He invited me to have coffee as I am alone today.
Oh,damn,I must have had a senior moment.It was that Jazz Band that distracted me.She refrained from saying why the jazz band was so intriguing to her.
Come on,ladies,hurry up,said Stan as he went into a brand new coffee shop staffed by delightful Turkish people.He ordered three cappucinos plus some milk for Emile who was in his backpack peerinr out benignly as if he were a baby kangaroo in his mother’s pocket.
They all sat down by the windows and gazed at the folk passing by in some rather unusual clothing.Unusually horrible is what they were thinking as the fashion for jeggings and leggings seemed to have been greeted warmly by the British women on view.And without a tunic one could see all they had on public display.
Sabrina was was wearing a short pink velvet dress and green shoes.
Don’t you find velvet very warm in the summer?,asked Mary.She was wearing a long cotton dress and some open toed sandals.
Well,it’s cotton velvet,Sabrina told her.Most is made from polyester now.I made this myself so I could choose the fabric
I have never learned to sew,Mary told her nervously.I was afraid of the electric sewing machine…Still,it’s probably cheaper nowadays to buy your clothes ready made.
Soon the women were engrossed in a discussion of their favourite fashion shops and styles.
I like a wool coat in winter,said Mary..I find down filled coats seem to make me perspire too much…even feel faint at times.
What kind of anti-perspirant do you use,Sabrina asked…
I tried Mitchum.I see it lasts for 48 hours.Does that mean you have no need to wash your armpits every day?
I must confess that puzzled me,Sabrina told her gently.
Anyway,it’s my face which sweats.I can’t put antiperspirant there…
No,it is likely to give you a rash and anyway the body needs to sweat to get rid of toxins,Sabrina informed her scientifically..
I don’t mind it sweating lower down, like on my legs,Mary said.But it’s embarrassing giving a lecture on why e is not an algebraic number with rivulets of water running down my face washing off my foundation cream and powder,
Yes,that is a real problem,Sabrina said wisely.I never knew anyone still wore powder.I like creme de mousse foundation myself.
Meanwhile Stan sat and gazed at Emile..he rolled his eyes.
I came here to talk naughtily to Sabrina,not to listen to women discussing sweat and antiperspirants.
Well,life is what happens when we are busy washing out our pans,Emile told him nastily
I don’t think that is quite right,said Stan.I have already washed all the pans and hoovered the ceilings…
Well,you see, much of life is out of our control.That’s why people like to take the Bible literally.They prefer to think End Times are here, than to realise life is always changeable and unpredictable.Any thing seems better than uncertainty.
How have you found teaching topology,Mary asked Sabrina.
I find it’s more fun than teaching logarithms,she continued,and exponentials…
Yes,I love teaching topology… and functional analysis.
Blimey, thought Stan, this is even worse than sweat and antiperspirants.
I use lily of the valley soap,he cried,interrupting the ladies.
Why,are you gay? asked Sabrina
No,I just use whatever Mary is using.
Why don’t you buy him some soap smelling of parsley,she asked Mary.
Why, can you get that? Mary responded.Coal tar is one we tried but he hates it…I think for men there’s not a lot of choice…
But,Sabrina cried,A man smelling of lilies of the valley might cause a disturbance,even a riot.
Why should women have all the lovely smells and men smell of coal tar and smoke?Stan asked.men like flowers too,you know.
The ladies looked at him with wonder as they sipped their lovely cappucinos.
I never thought of that before,Mary said.
Neither did I,Sabrina added.. this is not related to my work but my lover is a psychologist and he’s like to know about it.
Alright,ladies… time to go.Emile needs his dinner.So off they went all wrapped in their thoughts like a feather in a pillow…
Not what anyone had expected…but change is good for us,surely? Now we can wonder what sort of soap Dave,the delightful paramedic wears.. and does he use a 48 hour deodorant?

Mary gets worried

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

God is a cat and Emile curses and swears:modern life

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.

He was climbing over the fence with Emile their cat on his shoulder.
I think it’s so ridiculous, she muttered .
Surely Emile, a cat, can jump over the fence by himself.But Emile was very limp,she then saw
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 or even deaf ears.
Oh,my!That hurt…I’d better be careful.She flew down stairs and imet Stan in to the kitchen
Emile has got concussion, Stan said happily
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 nastily
I mean it.
A bit 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 fucking idiot woke me up… was he God?
I can’t say,Emile,dear.But please do not swear.
I’ll do whatever I fucking 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 deep kiss.
Perhaps it was the kiss of life,said Mary hopefully as it pained her to think Stanno 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 fucking 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 Fuck 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.

Even Stan’s cat weeps

Stan was sweeping the garden path.He had a stiff broom with a small head that was useful for cleaning the edges of the steps.Emile, his beautiful cat was sitting in the old apple tree gazing down on Stan.
“Is it time for coffee yet,”Stan asked himself.He had forgotten to put on his watch.
Suddenly he heard a shriek.He peered through a hole in the fence.His neighbor Anne was lying on her back in some mud.
“Hang on,I’ll come round!” he called.
There was a gate in the old fence which was rarely locked
since she loved to drop in on Stan.
“Oh,,how are you feeling?” he asked her anxiously.
“Bloody annoyed.I’ve only just bought these,”Not your daughter’s jeans” and now I’ve torn them,” she replied politely.
“But you don’t have a daughter!” he informed her loudly.
“I know that.It’s just they are better cut for the mature figure.”
“Your figure is not mature.You are quite slender.my dear,” he murmured lovingly.
“Well,I never feel happy with it!” she said mutinously.
“Whereas I am very happy feeling it,” he responded romantically.
Tears came into her green eyes lined with purple eye shadow.Alas,it was not waterproof and purple rivulets ran down her cheeks across the peach blusher with which she had valiantly decorated herself earlier.
“Can you get up?” he asked tenderly.
“Yes, but it would be nice if you picked me up.”
He leaned over her and licked the purple streams of tears off her cheeks.
“I hope it’s not poisonous,” she murmured.
Then with the aid of Emile,he lifted her to her feet and helped her into her large trendy kitchen.
The kettle switched itself on as they entered and a robotic voice asked if they’d like coffee.
“God in heaven,what the hell is that?” he cried confusedly.
“It’s my new computerized hot drink maker.After that fall I think a double espresso would be good.”
Emile ran in and asked for coffee too.
“Emile,you usually have milk,”Stan reminded him softly.
“Well,coffee is a new taste for me but I like a little.”
the cat whispered sweetly.
“I’ll give you some of mine in a saucer,” Stan replied.
Emile began to sob.
“Why Emile,whatever is wrong?”
“I want a cup and saucer just like you” the cat howled.
But you have no hands,Emile,” Stan reminded him.
The poor cat was crying loudly now.So Stan rang 999.
“Can you please send the emergency ambulance round.the cat’s crying and all his hankies are in the wash.”#
Soon Dave,the transvestite paramedic appeared.
“I love your light teal kitchen,” he informed Annie,
“And your eyes look like two deep pools in a coal mine.”
She slapped his cheek naughtily.
“Have a look at Emile” she ordered him sweetly.
He turned to the cat who was sitting on the dark pine table.
“Here,Emile,I got you some Kleenex for Cats in Sainsbury’s.” he said gaily.
“I want a real hanky,”cried Emile.Dave took a clean hanky from his own pocket and dried the cats tears.
“What made you cry.Are you feeling bad.”
“Yes,I want to go to Cafe Nero,” Emile mioawed.
“Who told you about that?”
“Another cat down the road has been and he said it’s lovely for people watching.”
“The town is not safe for cats like you,Emile.”
Dave urbanely replied,
“But when summer come I’ll take you to the out of town
Marks and Spencer’s.They have a cat’s coffee corner upstairs.”
“Wow,isn’t it amazing,”Stan wondered out loud.
So Dave poured out the coffee and they all sat down and
discussed Ray Monk’s Life of Wittgenstein.
Ray has discovered that Wittgenstein liked cats but as he moved around quite a bit,he never owned his own cat
though Elizabeth Anscombe let him play with her three cats now and then.
We may all be different but most of us value the love of a good cat.Even boiling their hankies and ironing them is very nice.We all have this problem though.
Where can a cat carry his own hanky?
Do cats need shoulder bags?
What would Wittgenstein say?
Nothing is my guess.
Whereof one cannot speak…..
T

Stan and the crazy cats of Knittingham and the UK

Source: Kath

Hallowe’en

Stan was feeling sad because the clocks had turned back so it was dark at 4pm.His wife Mary was out on her old Raleigh with battery lit lights front and rear….though not quite on her ass.Stan is very vulgar sometimes as it cheers him up.When Mary gets home he did say to her once,You need a light on your ass .Mary,like the Queen,was not amused.

Emile Stan’s cat suggested they go for a walk before sunset and so off they went.Stan wore an old green overcoat and a flat cap.Emile was running ahead as he was so excited.Some times he sat on the sturdy old man’s shoulder on a cat pad.[On sale everywhere for two pounds ten and sixpence.]Stan felt his spirits rise as he walked as the sky was so beautiful striped in blue and peach just like it had been in the Holy Land when he went on a
Pilgrimage with other old Catholics from Knittingham Cathedral

How lovely it would be to walk in the wood and feel crunchy leaves under his boots.[From Hotters of Whelmersdale,Lancs] And Emile liked to bury himself in the leaves and leap put as Stan went by.But as they approached the wood a strange sight met their eyes,,, all four!

The trees were full but not with birds.They were full of cats.Big cats,fat cats,thin cats,pedigree cats,mixed race cats,cats of all colors and sizes.You can imagine the effect of having a hundred or more cats’ eyes staring yellowly at you in synchronized glares.Why,it was almost enough to send Stan running home for some brandy.

Emile went nearer.He spoke to a big black cat

What’s going on?,he mewed.You are in my territory,

The black cat looked at him with his big green eyes.

We are witches‘ cats.We have come from all over Great Britain,excluding Northern Ireland as cats are not allowed on the boats now. no ratsl eft]..Tomorrow is All Hallows Eve and we are accompanying our multi-ethnic multicolored witches on a grand flight over Knittingham…tonight we are having,The Big Sing… at midnight precisely.
Did you remember to change the time on your smartphone,asked Emile.All the cats began to giggle and laugh.

We don’t need phones or clocks.We go by the stars and the moon…though doubtless the witches have watches.

Do witches have watches?,Emile asked Stan,after telling him why the cats were there.

Old witches have watches,Stan murmured,mesmerised by the vision of the cats swaying in the gale force winds.Thank God cats have fur,he thought lovingly.

Can we have a walk here,?he asked testily.

Well,Sir,do you recall a song from your childhood,If you go down to the woods today,you;’re sure of a big surprise.At your age,is your heart soft enough to stretch when you see five thousand cats…

I am sure I shall be ok as long as the Good Lord does not come here to feed them with five loaves and two fishes
All the cats laughed again.Stan was puzzled how they managed to stay in the trees with wind and giggles and a few scrapping and fighting as tom cats so when lady cats are near.

We are already full of fish supplied by all the local pet shops,markets and goldfish bowls!

How disgraceful, thought Stan,to eat pet goldfish.but owing to the number of crazy cats he decided to keep quiet…As he got nearer he saw a few cats smoking pipes..Well,I never knew cats smoked,he said to Emile.Maybe it’s magic mushrooms or coyote,the cat said cheekily

Do you mean peyote?,Stan said querulously.Coyote are animals..

.Ah,well.you get my drift,Emile replied cheekily

What was most strange was why this big meeting was taking place in Knttingham

.Then he remembered it was the center of the UK…that must be it.Most intriguing to see all these cats.A few even had tartan ribbons on as they were from Scotland.But how did they travel so far.No doubt it was all arranged by the Chief Wizard.

Somehow Stan and Emile felt self conscious as the cats were almost glaring at them,reminding Stan of an occasion when he and his wife had wandered by accident onto a remote beach for gay nude men.The looks they gave the old folk were far from gay;So he and Emile turned round and headed for home… at least they were forewarned of the midnight concert they and Mary would hear.Stan made some tea with twice as many tea bags as usual.
as he was concerned he might get PTSD or worse,maybe kittzophrenia.This poor man was blessed with a vivid imagination.

When Mary came in from the University he called out,

,
We have had the most amazing day,Mary….But Mary was wearing a pointed black hat and cloak…. and a big smile.

I know what you mean,Stan….I am just off to take a peek myself.She picked up her broomstick and rode away into the darkening sky.~to think one could be both a witch and a mathematician,,though numbers have a certain magic of their own as we all know

Hallowe’en! (dancingwithyourdemons.wordpress.com)
BlackCat Rescues (indynewsinlutonbeds.wordpress.com)
Tea and Cats with Glenda (teancats.wordpress.com)
What I’m Wearing: This Is Hallowe’en (gladragslondon.wordpress.com)
BlackCat Rescues (blackcatpulses.wordpress.com)

George Steiner

Theatrical masks of Tragedy and Comedy. Mosaic... — Theatrical masks of Tragedy and Comedy. Mosaic, Roman artwork, 2nd century CE. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Do the identifications with fictions, the inner, tidal motions of pathos and libido which the novel, the film, the painting, the symphony unleash within us somehow immunize us against the humbler, less formed, but actual claims of suffering and of need in our surroundings? Does the cry in the tragic play muffle, even blot out, the cry in the street?

http://yquotes.com/quotes/george-steiner/3/#ixzz2obYV5KXW

Paris Review – The Art of Criticism No. 2, George Steiner (wordscat.wordpress.com)
Fatal Collision At Oak and Steiner (haighteration.com)
Equality plus (mysayjmcornelis.wordpress.com)
Because when you ask someone about love, they tell you about heartbreak (the-positivity-project.com)

My scruples and other thoughts

Pray Father,give me a Dressing.It is five Tweets since my last Depression
So what have you done now?
Well,as I’ve done nothing wrong today I am suffering from Pride.
You seem to think about yourself too much…maybe
How much is too much,Uncle?
Well,when we are happy and doing something we enjoy,we forget ourselves entirely.
and that is the best way to be.
But first we need some security.How can I get that.
You need a spam guard for your mind!At the moment you are on automatic which is the default setting of your brain to act like a reptile…
Thanks very much,Father,I never knew I was a reptile.Did they have scruples..
It was kill or be killed.Don’t you see the scruples are an attack on yourself?The reptile is attacking you… as you have frightening thoughts it’s annoyed.
So how do I rebutt these? thoughts
Say,Alright if I’m the most wicked man in the city,smite me and do your worst.I am not afraid any more..I have done my best and if it’s not good enough strike me dead now or forever give me peace,
And what will happen after that?
Well,we shall see.But you have to face this thing head on.Bring it to a head.Lance the boil.
So if God does smite me dead?
Well, do you really think you are so wicked because you stole a half penny from the charity box fifty years ago?
I see it’s a sort of pride… a theatrical display of guilt.
Yes, quite right.Anyway, if you survive your ordeal let me know and I’ll give it a try.
Why,don’t say you have scruples too?
Yes,I have scruples about giving advice to people.If they follow it and it’s no good… it worries me….
Why don’t we do or die together,Father?
I’ll give you a buzz.
Meanwhile am I absolved?
Yes, dear boy.Sometimes I wish I could be dissolved..
Why is that?
I’d like to lose myself.
Why not try reading a good book…I recommend Nicholas Freeling.
But I feel guilty reading.
Now look here,Father,God helps those who help themselves….give yourself a break…
A good novel, a cup of tea and a pussy on your knee,you’ll be transformed.
Thank you,my child.
Don’t mention it,Father.
Don’t mention what?
They never say.
It’s just a phrase or is it a phase?
It’s all Greek to me.
I know some very sweet Greeks or are they geeks?
Just one letter can make such a difference..
Write soon.

This is Why I Buy Books (bobsbooksblog.com)
Fiction Writing: Creating Believable Characters (rowdywriters.wordpress.com)
Costco apologizes for listing Bibles as fiction in California store (canadianbusiness.com)
Your Friends Might Be Fairies (miriamjoywrites.com)
Atheists Argue Gov’t Is Forcing Them to Compromise Their ‘Religious Scruples’ (cnsnews.com)
Somali Proverbs with Equivalent English Proverbs (Part 3) (ismail4all.wordpress.com)
Describing creative practice (Week One) (emmamai93.wordpress.com)
20 sec reading: the gift of insults (paulocoelhoblog.com)

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