October 20

 

It’s cold and blue on my mountain
It’s always blue and cold on my mountain

October 19

 

THE VICAR DISHES OUT THE JOBS

Jack, lave the nave. I’m not sure ‘lave’ is the right word. Whatever.
Rose, clean that window. No, not the stained glass. T’other one.
Walter, alter the altar. I have no idea how you might do that.
I’ll sweep the aisle, which may well also be the nave. Who knows?

October 18

 

Smell of food pressed on her. All were eating. All was black and smoke, here even, by her, cows went soot-covered and the sheep grey. She saw milk taken out from them, grey the surface of it. Yes, and blackbird fled across that town flying crying and made noise like noise made by ratchet. Yes and in every house was mother with her child and that was grey and that fluttered hands and then that died, in every house died those children to women. Was low wailing low in her ears.

                 – Henry Green, from Living (Chapter 8)

October 17

 

BIPPETY AND BOPPETY HAVE A CHAT ON THE BUS

— I have signed up for basketry classes.
— One or two questions spring to mind.
— Do they involve sexual matters?
— If only . . .
— I shall be using willow.
— Naturally.
— Is that all you have to say?
— I was thinking of mentioning weeping, but I thought better of it.
— I would say more, but this is my stop.
— Oh yes, the clinic.

October 16

 

from WE’RE NOT REALLY SURE

The advice is confusing
We can’t go home any time soon
A night drive is eerie
It’s the not knowing

October 15

 

from BRUISE

A dark cloudiness squeezed my eyes and no air remained in my bag. I tried to negotiate with The Soil Bearers but they had turned into stone. Scraps of memory tantalized the edges of my thinking. Queenie’s fingernails: how they always drew blood.

October 14

 

from MY MOTHER WAS FIFI FANTASTIQUE

Probably it was the too much brandy and water addled my brain
All those months and years in the dressing room at Club de la Viande
You believe what the girls tell you – at least, I always did

October 13

 

PARASOL v. GAMP

Rain. Need an umbrella.
Rain. Need an umbrella.
Rain. Need an umbrella.
Rain. Need an umbrella.
Sun! Where’s my parasol?

October 12

 

BIPPETY AND BOPPETY DISCUSS HOBBIES

– I need a new hobby. I am fed up with the hobby I have, and also I am out of quills.
– How about filattery?
– I was thinking about gaff-making.
– Or shod-slipping? It’s a good one for those winter evenings when the electric is running low.
– Perhaps I could take up musical composition. They say everyone has a symphony in them.

October 11

 

THE FINGERS IN THE PIE

“Oh no!” exclaimed Pamela, as she realized her fingers were stuck in the pie.
“What’s the matter?” asked Caroline inquisitively.
“My fingers appear to be well and truly stuck in this pie,” said Pamela, eager to explain.
“That will teach you,” replied Caroline, in an admonishing tone.
“Indeed,” said Pamela.