Quickie Before Work

Just heard the weather forecast. Cloudy in the south. What? I've just put on a flouncy old skirt!
Talking of old flouncy things, I'm off out soon. Will get to grips with a dingy cupboard behind the bar, the bar being a small cave like place decked out in gaudy mirrors, wine racks and handbags!
It so needs a tidy up.
So after putting my radio and pinny on I'll get down to it. My God who ever thought a lazy trout like me would be up to her kneecaps in (mini list coming up) wine bottles, ashtrays, remote controls, socks, hairbrushes, vests and batteries. Still I'd rather be on my knees cleaning than sitting here hungry:(

On the menu tonight: No idea. Corned beef probably. Since I've been a working girl my dinners have gone to pot. A bit. Last night's fare was fair enough though. And oh what a gorgeous sumptuous pudding did I make. Lemon curd pud was fab. I had a glass of Stella Artois too, couldn't finish it off of course, way too much for my little tum but it was refreshing and went well with the pork. But I will not be buying any more. Today.

Now buttered bagel and porridge:)

Tiny Jasmine

After a hot road trip to Sainsbury's I had a sausage sandwich and then did something with Jasmine in the garden.
Tiny thing she is but I handled her delicately as I pushed her down into the dirt. Well, into a large tub of compost actually! I feel I have an affinity with small fragile things being one myself so as I gently patted soil around her sides I wondered now far she'd go up me trellis.
This is what happens when I get a fine day at the beginning of May.

On the menu tonight.
Nasi Goreng followed by Lemon curd pudding and ice cream.

Then early to bed on account of:
Age
Fear of saggy bags
Aching neck
Bugger all on the telly
Awfully early start tomorrow

Delights, Nietzsche and a Poem

On Friday I wrote about my charity shop delights.
And here are a couple of pictures...


I love collecting quotes and here's one I found yesterday.
"A subject for a great poet would be God's boredom after the seventh day of creation".
Friedrich Nietzsche


'Pleased with the stars' God said, stretching his almighty frame over His heavenly armchair..
And as He watched the night come
He wondered what next.

I mean, how would he top this fantastic week of work?
He was never going to eclipse the past few immaculate days however hard he tried. His creation of all things beautiful was his piece de resistance, his magnum opus and creating the perfect world is the pinnacle of all artists.
He achieved that.
He might as well stop right now.

And so what next for the Great Man?
Reading?
Wishing He was somewhere else?
Toying with the weather?
Or just lying back feeling chuffed?
After all a week of mountain building, light making, water production, beast bombardment and laying green green grass was a great idea. And like all things magnificent, they impact, stun and then depart.

And so as He slumbered, His hands split and cracked, He dreamt of what could be.
Lions playing footsie with lambs,
Women being good to men,
Children being children until they're not.
Men standing upright.
Caravans, huts, caves resounding to the clash of milk cups instead of beer glasses.
Food on tables, arms open, ovens burning.
Little people with unscarred frilly hearts living amongst tall trees.

But then He had a fitful sleep and saw
Hungry people singing Hallelujahs in towns with no water, no justice
Homeless people with broken backs walking that extra mile.
Writers committing atrocities in the name of art.

God shifted and tutted
Overturned on his cloud and cried
And awoke resigned and bored.

And so he left us in the dark
and our world shook.

I stole a tea spoon.

Poet Laureat

Looks like another gloriass day weather wise!
And it looks set to last to at least Sunday, so I'm off out tonight vestless. Talking of foolhardyness I've put in the garden a scratched stained 1973 coffee table laden with peanuts, in the hope that my pigeons and other feathered babes will feast upon it and in so doing make me very happy. How selfish is that? But so far they've chosen to ignore it. But, as I've noticed before, it takes birds a while to get used to new thingymejigs in their territory, so being blessed with endless patience I'll have to wait...

Talking of patience...
I've waited a good while for good news on the poetry front. And yesterday I had some. My favourite poet Carol Ann Duffy has been made Poet Laureat. This weepingly talented woman should have had the job years ago, but according to rumours, she was denied it on account of her sexual persuasion.
I watched her being interviewed yesterday and I wished I could have had a few private moments with her. I'd have asked her how she feels when the birth pangs of a poem pound in her head and heart. And how it feels when she sees her completed work, her offspring, spread out, not on a bloodied blanket but on a dusty screen.

What I wouldn't give to meet her.

Anyway here's one of her poems, I carry it in my handbag.
To me it is a masterpiece.


"Some days although we cannot pray a prayer utters itself, so a woman will lift her head from the sieve of her hands and stare at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.
Some nights although we are faithless the truth enters our hearts, that small familiar pain, then a man will stand stock still hearing his youth in the distant Latin chanting of a train. Pray for us.
Grade one piano scales console the lodger looking out across a Midlands town. Then dusk and someone calls a child's name as though they named their loss.

Darkness outside, inside the radios prayer. Rockall, Malin, Dogger, Finistere."

Carol Ann Duffy



So back to my stuff.

Snooker.
Bacon.
Snooker.

Rogan Josh.
Coffee and mint chocs
Late night Snooker.

Check bird's coffee table.

Simple Things

Just before I drip soup down my frontage I must just have a word...

Went to awful Somerfield to by ordinary stuff, when what did I see, only a lad loading a shelf with ASPARAGUS! What the hells going on here I thought to myself. This is grotty Somerfield, where you'd be lucky to find a loaf of bread yet alone queer gear. Oh well...On to the charity shop..
Where I bought a white embroidered throw, a small brown casserole dish with lid, an empty Cadbury's biscuit tin in the shape of a van and THREE BLUE TIN CANNISTERS marked TEA COFFEE SUGAR! It couldn't get better but it did because they were only £1:50.

And then as I drove into my road I spotted something.
A man.
A man with a wooden tray.
He was putting his plants out for sale. So I pulled up alongside him and got out. "40p" he said.
TOMATO plants they were. I bought four. 'Shirley', 'Beefsteak' and two 'Plum'. I put money in his ashtray and roared off.
I want to bottle today so I can uncork it and pour it out on my blacker days.
On the menu today: Soup. And later, chips and ketchup. And later still digestive biscuits and tea. I suffer when alone...

Lovely Day

Lovely day.
Sun out and I'm out.
Only going out for bread though!
But will no doubt pop in Joan's shop to see if there are any a) ceramic birds b) fancy clothes c) pots, bowls or jugs.
Then snooker.
Lovely day.