Tag: fiction

Mary wants a woollen vest

English: Lingerie sale, T. Armstrong & Co. store.
English: Lingerie sale, T. Armstrong & Co. store. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
English: The reality of lingerie, as opposed t...
English: The reality of lingerie, as opposed to the fantasies of catalog photographs (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

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

Wow,it’s so cold,Mary remarked.

Now,Mary I have told you before that Wow is not a word I expect to hear from such a highly educated person as yourself….why waste your learning?All those years climbing over walls in ~Oxford and dating  clever doctors from Harvard…

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

What is it, my darling Stan  said nosily.Mary was looking at a catalogue of ladies clothing. and lingerie which had come i nthe post

They are £39 each,she said wonderingly.If I get three it will be nearly £120 plus postage.Just imagine,I may be unable to afford wool vests

Can’t you just buy one and wear it all winter like the Tudors did?her loving yet  irascible husband replied

I think it would get smelly,my dear,even if I wore  my anti -perspirant,Mary answered benignly.We should get wool vests from the Government to save us from going to A and E with double pneumonia,she continued softly…Shall we mention it at the Labor Party meeting? I can get it on the agenda

No,no,Stan cried,I want your lingerie to be a secret…

A woollen vest is hardly lingerie,she retorted..  sounding like a character from Barbara Pym‘s novels

Everything a lady wears under her dress in lingerie he murmured gently….bras,knickers,pantaloons,petticoats,vests,corsets,suspender belts.stockings,tights,trouser liners,lace,fine silk,short underskirts,long underskirts……..n,ighties

But some  lingerie is more sensual…Stan said wistfully,recalling the brown silk underwear Mary used to wear before feminism made most lingerie a No,No! Anyway,Mary said,we are too old for sex….we are too stiff and we are too shy now as well

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

Emile came in and  asked for a vest  too and some underpants… suppose I wet them? he miaowed in a panic

Well,you can’t have a nappy,Emile.Stan informed him.

I have no desire for such things,Emile mioawed angrily…where is my food?

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

Where did you get that from? Mary asked fearfully…

.Oh,that tom cat down the road  knocked a fish tank over and he gave Emile one.

But they are pets!She shrieked…. ring 999 now and ask for an ambulance

Dave the bisexual paramedic strode in looking merry.

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

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

Well, that’s a bloody miracle,Mary screamed. almost frightening Stan to death!

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

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

Oh,yes.he said, and I wear a short petticoat too….I’dd love a silk one as I am a transexual too,so I believe

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

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

Vests,thought Mary.

To buy or not to buy

That is my question

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Mary writes a letter

ImageThe Pilchards.

23,Sweetnames Avenue

Knittingham

Near Nottingham.

England

Dear Jane

Hope you are keeping well in this unusually cold spring weather.Stan has had flu.It made him so bad tempered and waspish that I took up the Duraglit polish and got him to polish all the brass,except the front door knob, as that doesn’t come off.Mind you,it made the bedroom smell odd… a mistake,perhaps…so I sprinkled lavender oil around.

He seems to get thinner and I seem to get fatter.So our average w eight remains constant.What a relief.I’d like to be weighed as a married woman.Can you believe this..I’ve got chilblains! It’s those dratted blood vessels of mine.Still,I polished some old plum colored leather boots and wear them in the house.We seem to be doing polishing frequently here.. boots,furniture,apples.

How is your new book “Nonsense:A.N.Whitehead and Lewis Carroll” coming on?Hope it’s progressing….to a nonsensical ending.I’ve got a new book of poetry coming out in April [from Polar bears publishers] It’s called,”An unpolished performance.”My fourth book on Wittgenstein’s cats is almost finished.And the publishers can’t wait for the photographs…I’ll get a friend to do those for me!!It gives me a change from all that polishing.I’ve begun to talk to myself out loud…. in the street.Just seeing if I can still do my old Lancashire accent.I suppose it might worry people but no one has said anything as yet.They may be afraid.

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

Stan is still involved romantically with Anne, our next door neighbor.I can’t blame him as chilblains and Wittgenstein  are not very romantic.When I think of how we used to be,it makes me smile and feel sadness too.I wonder if I can find someone new for a romance,myself… someone with Asperger’s syndrome possibly…as I’ve just been diagnosed.It’s quite common in mathematicians.It may be an advantage in concentrating a lot.I need a boyfriend with weak eyes as my clothes are all full of moth holes and I’m damned if I’m going to buy new ones.I can’t see well enough to darn but I’ve sewn the holes up neatly thus giving a strange pleated effect to my clothes.On my merino wool knitted trousers, one hole was right on the ass.It looks now as if I’ve been shot in the rear…but I can’t see it.So it does not exist.Sometimes in the past I would iron on those motifs like butterflies…but I think it would look odd having a butterfly just there…. or indeed anything else like wild rose.I could make a little sign saying

“Keep clear,from my rear.This is a hole where a moth scored a goal.”

Still,not many people are going to look there now I hope….I seem to have stopped knitting but am still drawing.Meantime I’ve just ironed some of my winter clothes as it’s still chilly..and am planning to iron all my pink and blue knickers now as I believe it kills any germs left when you wash at 30 deg.I got those colors in case I should change sex or is it gender?I wonder if I should iron the sheets?Could I do it while they are on the bed?I don’t wash them much as it wears them out and me too.I am going to take up baking again because Stan is getting so thin.I  fancy a Russian cheesecake as it had a lot of protein in it.I have a genuine Russian cookbook and also am waiting for a delivery of a Jewish cookery book as I have lost mine..no it fell down onto my head last week.God only knows where that came from.but I believe there were good cheesecakes as Jewish cooking has much in common with Russian,perhaps because once many Jews lived in Russia.I just made friends with one here….he is charming and like me he hates golf.He used to have  his own business…He has a lovely collection of hats too.

I have got almost all the Penguin cookery books ever printed but mislaid a few.In fact it’s quite hard to get into the kitchen with all these books on the shelves.And a little food.

I was comforted to read that the parent’s of John Burra,the artist,had books piled every where in their large house….and he was very untidy too.So all I need is talent and practice and I’ll be an artist.After all,anyone can be untidy but not everyone will practice their Art.I’d like to practice the arts of love.They say you should love your neighbor as yourself,but personally I prefer the neighbor or even the milkman to myself.Meanwhile I’m happy with Emile our cat and my 500 photos of Wittgenstein.I shall make Stan a lemon sponge pudding.That is the love he wants…Food.

“If music be the food of love I’ll cohabit with a pure white dove.
And while he coos and sings for me.
I’ll try not to :fall out of the tree,
Get stung by a bee,
Have psychotherapy
Make more enemies,
Let my thought free,
Hurt my knee.
Let moths frighten me.

Well,time for some tea.Now Jane, please write to me soon.I love to see your so strangely beautiful handwriting and to hear about Whitehead and Cambridge and all the weird dons. I hope it’s not too damp and cold there near that river.Keep warm and make a note of any intriguing happenings to relate to me.And anything beautiful you can see or hear.I hope Edward is writing regularly..where is he doing his research now… did you say Stanford.Maybe you should install Skype..then again,perhaps not as you would have towash your hair too much… and comb it too…perhaps we could wear wigs.

Do write soon,Love always,Mary

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Tears in your eyes

Autumn 2013 070Until the very end of time I’ll be loving you.
Until the end of all my rhymes,I’ll be writing you.
Until the day I die,I’ll be unintentionally annoying you.
Older and older,I’ll never leave you,but I will,no doubt, grieve you and deceive you,misperceive you.
Otherwise I’ll think of you,wink at you and make a hyperlink to you
Still,for ever,I’ll be all over you..looking for fleas in your floes, and
B’s in your Y’s.
I’ll be looking for tears in your eyes
and making you feel surprised.
That’s a love poem,innit?
Well,innit?
Wot!I’m British,innit!
Oh, geddit!

Literary Fractions and other Fictions

11257109-old-mosaic
Reading the right type of novel makes you better at understanding people.And that must be good.
Reading Fifty Shades in not so useful  and if you buy some whips and suchlike
you are increasing your expenditure.Be creative.DIY
Free  fantasy for all.Start now.. well later on…
I looked at that book..I did not realise what it was.The first 3 pages seemed dull so I out it back on  Waterstones‘  table.I can’t write a novel so I shall write a limerick
LOVE YOUR KITTEN
There was an old lady from Britain
Whose love focussed on her cat’s kitten.
She gave it warm milk
Wrapped it in silk.
And now she is knitting four mittens.Is that literary?
LITERARY LIMERICK?A philosopher  is a person who thinks
While she washes up at the sink.
She turns over her mind
And lets it unwind…..
She writes all her thoughts down in ink.

CAN YOU TELL LIES?

Some people can’t fantasise
I wonder if they can’t tell lies?
Reveries  suits  me…
I daydream at tea.
Maybe my best friends are spies?

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LITERARY OR POPULAR FICTION?

political-pictures-darth-vader-blasphemy-style

This  is  verygood.[I was just practising how to do a lnk there!I am  not fully trained in editing.]
This is an interesting article about the difference between literary and popular fiction.I have written a few short stories but always wanted to write a novel.
I love Nicholas Freeling.His  novels are written as detective stories but they qualify as literary fiction.I especially like,Dresden Green.
You can get a full  list of his novels via the link above.I shall be mulling over the thought of writing this weekend and looking a people walking by as I stroll along.
Why do we women wear such clothes?Why is “feminine” a bad word… like flowered dresses?How can one reconcile feminism with femininity?We don’t all want abortions like Simone de Beauvoir.
The other day I wore a dress and my partner said,Auntie E!
Not a compliment is it?I was wondering how good my imagination is.It’s based on experience
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All Hallows Eve with Stan and Emile

All Hallows Eve

Have you ever seen a witch or a Spirit pass by?Soon it will be Hallowe’en and it’s a strange time of the year.Some people feel and see more than others.

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.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 behind ….Mary,like the Queen,was not amused.

Emile Stan’s cat suggested they go for a walk before sunset and so off they went as they did so  ofte.Stan wore an old green overcoat and a flat cap.Emile was running ahead as he was so excited.Sometimes 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 ,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 ] And Emile liked to bury himself in the leaves and leap out as Stan went by.But as they approached the wood a strange sight met their eyes,,,

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 sized.You can imagine the effect of having a thousand or more cats’ eyes staring wildly 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 round 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 rats left]..Tomorrow is All Hallows Eve and we are accompanying our multi-ethnic ,multi colored witches on a grand flight over Knittingham…tonight we are having,The Big Sing… at midnight precisely.And then the Big Love In
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 ,mesmerized by the vision of the cats swaying in the gale force winds.Thank God cats have fur,he thought lovingly.Why did he not have fur,he puzzled

Can we have a walk here or not ? he asked testily as the old do.

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 do 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 Knittingham.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 nude,suntanned men.The looks they gave the old folk were far from kind as they wore the usual anoraks, old trousers and sunhats.Even Emile had blue  jeans and a mac!

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 kittzoscreamia.This poor man was blessed with a  very vivid imagination and weak. long nerves more suitable for an artist

.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 for some humans and even some birds can count

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Writing

To write a novel,do not pick the title first…start writing….You may find it is quite different from what you planned

Roses

I like this advice below

View at Medium.com

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A new to me book website:Bookish.

My original idea was to write about books.I just found this new website devoted to books.Here is a funny article about how Freud would have judged 5 fictional characters.It is in the Huff Post.Under the photo of Freud it says this was originally on Bookish.Click that link  to visit Bookish and sign up if you like it

I can’t get the link right for Bookish

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The Bitch in the House [Paperback] Cathi Hannauer (Author)

Georgee eliotFrancine prose3

 

I said I would write about at the weekend but I felt it more urgent to reconstruct the blog as I had wandered away from my intentions.This book  is very interesting,It contains stories from a number of women in the USA about their lives.I am unsure who chose the title as my mother would have fainted to hear this name!But in truth one contributor says that she is very nice at work and a demon to her family..S he has a very high powered job.I myself find it odd that feminism means women must work  in paid job now even when they have babies.Alas house prices have risen to match and so it’s really tough.Other stories are not so harsh.The one I was moved by was written by a woman who happens to be overweight.She tells her story very well.And what a life she has had.It’s worth getting just for that.And it’s only 1p on Amazon. Some stories seem like ones from the dawn of time.. a couple meet.At last she has found her ideal man.And so he continues until they drive off for the honeymoon and as they approach a big Freeway junction he begins to shout and yell because she is not telling him which road is the right one!And he never even gave her a map/road atlas.So married life began with a shock of horror…

I myself love books like this that a bit like a blog tell a story of another woman’s life/The stories are too short really… but it’s a gripping read.A very good variety of different lives,different kinds of relationship and the toughness of educating yourself when you are poor and possibly black too

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Lonely or human?

Ain't That Lonely Yet
Ain’t That Lonely Yet (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
General Practitioner Services
General Practitioner Services (Photo credit: the justified sinner)

You know when you are really truly lonely

when you haven’t even got any enemies

when your GP says only to go  there once a week

and so does the priest after hearing your fifth confession today

and you can’t go to A and E  as it’s closed down

and you help all old people blind or not across roads

and you go  to the dentist once a month even though you are broke and have only two teeth

and your mouth has dried up so you can’t speak

and your phone is dusty

English: Francisco Vallés Español: Francisco V...
English: Francisco Vallés Español: Francisco Vallés, médico personal de Felipe II. Grabado de 364 x 242 mm. Cobre; aguafuerte y buril, talla dulce. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

and your cat died but you had her stuffed

and you have paranoia because the world loves you

and you pray hourly

and you only dream of deserts

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Well,Jesus had no cassock!

Pray Father,give me your guessing.

My guessing!Don’t you mean my blessing.

Oh,probably.Possibly..who knows.

So have you any sins to tell me?

Yes,I broke a glass jug.

Whose was it?

It was mine,Father.

Surely it’s not a sin to break your own jug?

It is if you hit yourself on the head with it!

What made you do that?

I was angry with myself…I had been committing effrontery.

Do you mean adultery?Your main problem seems to be bad language.

No,Father I never say” Fuck”

You just did.

Well I had to do.I had no choice!

That’s what they all say…if only I heard some original sin I’d find life more interesting.

Well,it’s hard to think of anything original to do especially if it has to be a sin too.

You are just not using your creativity.

All right Father,Put your hands up.i’ve got a gun.

Where did you find that?

In my wife’s handbag.

Now we are getting somewhere.. that’s threatening a priest,interfering in your wife’s privacy and stealing a gun.Any other sins?

I could shoot you,I suppose.

No.no!That is going too far.

Shall I slap you?

No… just say something rude to me.

Your sermons are the most boring I have ever heard.

Well,that’s enough…I’ve never been so insulted in my life.

You have been very lucky then… you should hear what people say to me!

Well,you are both ugly and unintelligent.I don’t know how you had the nerve to marry.

I had no choice.She forced me.But I gave in quickly in case she changed her mind.

And you have seven children.

No, they are not all mine,And they are Jewish.

How can they be Jewish.

My wife is Jewish!

I thought she was just a lapsed Catholic.

No,she’s Jewish but not even an arranged marriage could be arranged for her so she used her imagination and decided an overweight ugly Catholic would be grateful for her love,

And are you grateful?

Yes, and so are all her lovers!

Who are they?

The curate is one of them and has two children .. they look just like him too.

And does she want them raised as Jews?

She just let’s them rise naturally and go with the flow.

Do they have to wear hats?

Only in the Synagogue!

Are you Jewish too.

Yes,it’s quite handy as we have Sabbath on Saturday and then we have Sunday on Sunday if you see what I mean.

I never met anyone who practised two religions before.;

Well,I figured it would double my chance of salvation!

Well. I must speak to the Rabbi.For your penance you must give £50 to Homeless at Xmas.

Am I absolved.

If you stay any longer you’ll be dissolved!

Thank you,Father.

And take that gun away.I don’t want it.

I can get you a good price for your cassock.

Why,thank you,my child but I need it.

Well,Jesus had no cassock!

Well, he was a  Jew…I am a Catholic.

Now,that makes me think.

Think what?

About the Vatican…

Let’s not go there,

Shalom

The Stan saga.. A letter from Mary,author of the book,”Wittgenstein’s cats and the Enigma code.”

Photo1378

The Pilchards.

23,Sweetnames Avenue

Knittingham

Near Nottingham.

England

Dear Jane

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

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

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

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

Mind you,it made the bedroom smell odd… a mistake,perhaps…

so I sprinkled lavender oil around.

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

So our average w eight remains constant.

What a relief.I’d like to be weighed as a married woman.

Can you believe this..

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

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

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

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

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

I’ve got a new book of poetry coming out in April

[from Polar bears publishers]

It’s called,”An unpolished performance.”

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

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

It gives me a change from all that polishing.

I’ve begun to talk to myself out loud…. in the street.

Just seeing if I can still do my old Lancashire accent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

advantage in concentrating a lot

I need a boyfriend with weak eyes as my clothes are all full of moth holes

and I’m damned if I’m going to buy new ones.

I can’t see well enough to darn but I’ve sewn the holes up neatly thus

giving a strange pleated effect to my clothes.

On my merino wool knitted trousers, one hole was right on the ass.

It looks now as if I’ve been shot in the rear…

but I can’t see it.So it does not exist.

Sometimes in the past I would iron on those motifs like

butterflies…but

I think it would look odd having a butterfly just there…. or indeed

anything else like wild rose.

I could make a little sign saying

“Keep clear,from my rear.This is a hole where a moth scored a goal.”

Still,not many people are going to look there now I hope….

I seem to have stopped knitting but am still drawing.

Meantime I’ve just ironed some of my winter clothes as it’s still chilly..

and am planning to iron all my pink and blue knickers now

as I believe it kills any germs left when you wash at 30 deg.I got those colours in case I should

change sex or is it gender?

I wonder if I should iron the sheets?

Could I do it while they are on the bed?

I don’t wash them much as it wears them out and me too.

I am going to take up baking again because Stan is getting so thin.

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

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

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

.God only knows where that came from.

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

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

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

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

few.

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

with all these books on the shelves.And a little food.

I was comforted to read that the parent’s of John Burra,the artist,

had books piled every where in their large house….

and he was very untidy too.

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

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

I’d like to practice the arts of love.

They say you should love your neighbor as yourself,

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

Meanwhile I’m happy with Emile our cat

and my 500 photos of Wittgenstein.

I shall make Stan a lemon sponge pudding.

That is the love he wants…Food.

“If music be the food of love I’ll cohabit with a pure white dove.
And while he coos and sings for me.
I’ll try not to :fall out of the tree,
Get stung by a bee,
Have psychotherapy
Make more  enemies

Let my thought free,
Hurt my knee.
Let moths frighten me.

Well,time for some tea.

Now Jane, please write to me soon.

I love to see your so strangely beautiful handwriting

and to hear about Whitehead and Cambridge and all the weird dons.

I hope it’s not too damp and cold there near that river.

Keep warm and make a note of any intriguing happenings to relate to me.

And anything beautiful you can see or hear.I hope Edward is writing

regularly..where is he doing his research now… did you say Stanford?

Maybe you should install Skype..then again,perhaps not as you would have to

wash your hair too much… and comb it too…perhaps we could wear wigs.

Do write soon,Love always,Mary.

 

Emile’s diary:why do humans have lips?

A cat ponders

My images

I use photos I take myself and I use various Art software programs such as Artweaver and Paint.net.I love color and shape so trees play a large part in my collection of images

Source: Kathryn

Emile’s musings

I’m sitting under the coffee table.By rights I should be given some cafe au lait in a traditional French style wide cup with a silver brim plus a matching saucer.I am shocked that Stan has never asked me to partake.I need a coffee break..it’s hard work spying all day!
I heard Anne talking on her mobile while Stan was looking for the graph paper.She must be talking to another woman…. she said she’s just bought some Revlon primer lotion to put under her light beige mousse foundation.Ye Gods,it sounds as if she’s painting the wall.She was moaning she can’t afford Lancome any more.Mousse foundation..that sounds tasty! She wants some heather coloured lipstick but she couldn’t find any.She’s put a new one on anyway and Stan came in to give his opinion:
Congratulations,Anne.You have found lipstick that’s exactly the same colour as your own lip .She was mortified.I could see tears in her eyes but luckily she had her waterproof mascara and purpleeyeshadow on.
Well,it makes me glad to be a cat…we have no need for skin products
and we have no lips as such.Why do humans have lips?Is it mainly for kissing?
And perfume………we like the natural odors but I’ve never seen Stan go up and sniff Anne’s netherregions…though I admit I took a sniff and she smells very intriguing… probably some musk she’s bought.
I envy Stan in a way.Because I’d like to kiss Anne but my lips are too small….I could lick hers with my little raspy tongue!
Maybe if she falls asleep i’ll have a go.i love that woman so..
A cat may look at a king,but can he lick a lady’s lips?
Well,must go and take a walk around my territory and sniff out who’s about….face primer.What next.Paint stripper? What a waste of time and money.I could be chasing dandelion clocks round the garden

Life is not a play with a prewritten script

 

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Sometimes I have found when talking to friends or neighbours some people feel life is predetermined.. not in a religious way;they feel nothing will change.That they run along a track and cannot turn off.

  Major change can be hard…. so I am doing simple things like not always sitting in the same armchair.Changing my routines and if the weather is good I am going out and making the most of winter sunshine.

 I take a camera and get some intriguing pics as I wander about.the seasons may return each year but they are never quite the same.This year we had snow.Now it’s autumn but we had a good summer…after a prolonged winterImageImage

Lyra has a bath and Stan entertains his mistress

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Stan was in the conservatory re-watering the cacti and sweeping the ceiling with a new broom.Mary his wife,[or so she claimed],was in the kitchen making cheese scones and bread for their afternoon tea.Their daughter Laura was taking a bath to wash all the blue raindrops from her hair.A peaceful Saturday scene in the Midland town of Knittingham.

Just out of the blue,the doorbell rang.It was Annie their widowed next door neighbour.She was wearing a long blue satin dress with a built in train.”I’m off to London now” she simpered.”Can I give Lyra a lift in my train?”
“I believe unless I have strong disconfirmatory evidence, that my daughter is still in the bath.”Stan said defiantly.
Anne entered the house and ran upstairs.There she saw Lyra wrapped in a large blue towel like object.

“Is this a towel?” Lyra asked pertly

.”I have no evidence either way.”Annie announced.

“Where did you get it from?”

“That big blue window”replied the rosy blue cheeked girl ironically.”It may be a curtain”
“Oh,dear.Have I erred?” she pondered.
“No,you look very clean to me,though one can never be absolutely certain.” Anne said thoughtlessly.
“I suppose all one can do is to keep the dirt between certain parameters that each must decide for themselves.The Tudors only bathed once a year. And King Henry Vlllth founded the Church of England just so he could get a divorce from himself,not to mention a little gold too.”
Lyra worked for a publisher in Oxford Street,They were always on the look out for new titles and for money.
“Would you ever consider writing a blue self help book,Anne?”
“You can make a good deal of money that way.Self help is in Vogue now. I was thinking of:How to divorce yourself in three easy stages using self hypnosis.

We already have :How to found your own Church.” and “How to steal somebody else’s Church in three steps.”
Anne was keen to get an interest as since killing her husband for his money,she was feeling lonely,remote and schizoid, and her affair with Stan was proving a bit slower to take off than she had narcissistically expected.
“I am already a unqualified hypnotist.”she lied intensely.
Just then they heard a strange crash.Stan had been standing on his Habitat chair trying to eavesdrop on the women’s conversation,and it had fallen apart under the weight of his hiking boots.He lay on the carpet looking pale with blood running down his aged head.”Can you ring 999 please ?” he yelped .
Lyra looked at the chair.”No,Dad it’s o.k.I can fix this with some U.H.U glue.I have some in my purple tote under all my medication.
She whispered saucily to Anne,”I’ll text you tomorrow,my darling angel.Love the dress.”Lyra was a trans sexual lesbian paramedic you see,as well as a publisher‘s clerk and also did not have other intriguing money making jobs into the bargainas the English say now and then.
Mary was in the kitchen finishing off her baking.She lived in a world of her own mainly focussed on her second hand Raleigh small wheeled shopper bicycle and its wicker basket that she bought in East Anglia or, to be exact,in Wells-next-the sea.It was now grey but still functional like many other towns in Britain and their inhabitants.She put the cheese scones and butter onto a large elliptical plate and went into the dining room followed by Emile her cat ,who was partial to a knob of butter on a Sunday teatime.
Where was his sister Emily he wondered?

Stan gets a letter

Stan gets a naughty letter

Dear Stan
I hope I you don’t mind me telling you I had some problems with your last few letters.
Your spelling is now so absolutely ferocious I almost passed out in Church [The sermon was too boring so I opened your latest missile]
You seem to have forgotten all the wiles of grammar we once learned at school..Maybe you should write more letters to keep you au fate with English as she is poked about today.
And don’t you have anything interesting to tell me about.Surely something indecent must happen over and over again in your town.Why not pass it on to me.I would be delighted to be read all about that sort of thing… old age is so dull.
You never say how Mary is.Is she still riding that old bicycle from University days.I can’t imagine why you don’t get her a new one instead.Can she not drive?I think it’s unseemly to let your wife ride a second hand bicycle.The neighbors may despise you,imagining you are from the underclass and therefore ripe for abuse by all and thundery.Nowadays being poor is dangerous.
Why even your car is 19 years old.Have you never been tempted to keep up with the Jones’s, whoever they may be nowadays.A new car and a loft conversion would only be about 60 thousand pounds and your self esteem would rise like a butterfly in a thunderstorm.I say this only to help you
I have noticed you are getting thinner and Mary is getting much fatter.I do hope God has not worked a miracle and made her big with child at her age,though we could certainly do with a New Messiah.
On second thoughts,it would save a great deal of suffering if she were to get an abortion immediately… it’s less painful than Crucifixion…. you catch my drift, and giving birth at her age would be dangerous.Not to mention you gave up carpentry long ago.And pensions are low.
I hope I haven’t offended you but at 109 I doubt if you are still potent… it’s only natural we lose a little with each passing year especially when you have both a wife and a mistress as you did for many a merry year.You must have worn yourself out with pleasure.
Well,I just wanted to tell you about your dreadful spelling.Think about getting an online Dictionary.We all regret things as we age.Don’t be shy.You can tell me anything and regret it with whoever later on
Well,that’s all my news this week.I hope you get some good weather soon.

With love and warmest wishes from us both,

Joshua and Maggie.

PS.It’s terribly hot down here  in Hell!