DES RES FOR SALE

FOR SALE

Dearly beloved,

I can’t wait to show you my new home, hopefully soon to be our new home. It was on one of my restless days that I found it, when I was wondering how much longer it would be before we were together for all time. I’d felt agitated since my arrival. Not having you by my side is something I have to get used to but, my dearest, it is going to be hard. In an attempt to calm my soul I went to explore the hills and valleys of this unusual place.

As you know, walking has always been hard for me but strangely it now feels easier. It’s difficult to describe the sensation, it’s almost as though I’m weightless. I know that’s challenging to the imagination considering my size, but it’s true, I seem to glide rather than walk. I’ve put it down to the conditions, with air as pure as this I’m bound to feel different. Tell you one thing, though, I can breathe easier. There must be a no smoking ban here as well. The environment is considerably healthier, the grass is greener and the sky is a heavenly shade of blue. Oh and the everlasting scent of flowers is divine.

But I digress. I’m sure you’re dying to know about the house.

I had wandered away from the beaten track and almost missed the notice secured to a mossy bank by a twig. In my opinion it was a silly place to put it, I mean how would people know there was a house for sale when the paper was almost obscured by foliage?

‘Desirable Residence in Heavenly Location’

The word heavenly attracted my attention. I wondered where it could be. There was no place on earth that could be described as heavenly, not in this day and age, yet that was the portrayal that captured my imagination. Since I was destined to stay in this new territory I decided to check it out.

The agent, a kindly man with a striking white beard that tumbled from chin to portly chest, told me that the abode had been vacant for a long time. I assumed it was because there were no near neighbours, something that didn’t bother me as I am quite keen on solitude. At least I was until the day I found friendship of a different kind. With you, my darling.

As soon as I entered the unusual structure I knew it was exactly what I was looking for: comfortable, relaxing, soothing, and above all a million miles away from reality. Don’t misunderstand me; I am happy with reality but this place with its pure white freshness, gentle curving surrounds, strewn pillows, and an ambience ripe for love was perfect for dreaming.

Breathing in the calming atmosphere I wandered around, nosing in light and airy cupboards that smelt of roses, half expecting to find hidden secrets. All I found was an engraved talisman, vibes from which produced strange inner sensations. Happy people were here, I thought, and happy people would come again for at that stage I had almost decided to go ahead with the purchase.

The bedroom was extraordinary. No bed, just mattresses on the floor. Not mattresses as we know them, my love, these were soft and downy, like huge feather pillows. I admit to lying on one to see how it felt. Dreamy is the only way I can describe it, but that wouldn’t anywhere near conjure up the true experience. If you can imagine the far-away sensation that comes after a bout of flu you might be more aware of what I’m trying to say. It was like lying down and forgetting everything.

It was the bathroom that really brought the decision to a head, a pristine white tiled palace with gold taps sitting proudly at the end of a bath made for two. Two cotton robes draped on a chair and soft white towels neatly folded on a long tasselled stool convinced me that the room was waiting to be used.

And so it would be. I remember thinking this is where I would take my lover. We would indulge each other in warm suds, searching, soaping, drying each other with fluffy towels, then move as one to the array of plump white cushions. There I would place my lips on his in an emotional demonstration of desire. That was the effect of the newfound accommodation.

It is cool and sunny, in fact quite a pleasant day. My purchase is complete. I sit outside wondering how best to describe the new quarters to you, hoping you will like them as much as I do.

The sky is so blue a few small clouds like cotton wool stand out in 3D style. Lazily leaning back against the willow tree, I’m contemplating our future, wondering how you will take to this heavenly place. I’ve called it Cloud Nine, reminiscent of the fantasies we shared.

Signing off now, sending all my love and hoping your journey won’t be too painful or tiring. And please, God, don’t let it take too long. 

DRIVERS NIGHTMARE

Drivers nightmare

(written a few years ago)

Green light says Go

Indicate, turn right

Foot down, hurrying

Home for the night

Ball speeds towards him

Just a game

Football crazy, future fame?

Parents’ tears shed

On fragrant flowers

He wouldn’t be told

That son of ours

Who can they blame?

Who was remiss?

There should be a law

To stop upsets

Like this

FUNNY OR WHAT?

The following 'funnies' were published before but I thought it might be worth showing again.

Office, Rome:
SPECIALIST IN WOMEN AND OTHER DISEASES

Hotel, Acapulco:
THE MANAGER HAS PERSONALLY PASSED ALL THE WATER SERVED HERE.

Information booklet about using a hotel air conditioner, Japan:
COOLES AND HEATES: IF YOU WANT CONDITION OF WARM AIR IN YOUR ROOM, PLEASE CONTROL YOURSELF

Sign in men's rest room in Japan:
TO STOP LEAK TURN COCK TO THE RIGHT

In a Nairobi restaurant:
CUSTOMERS WHO FIND OUR WAITRESSES RUDE OUGHT TO SEE THE MANAGER.

In a cemetery:
PERSONS ARE PROHIBITED FROM PICKING FLOWERS FROM ANY BUT THEIR OWN GRAVES.

In a Tokyo bar:
SPECIAL COCKTAILS FOR THE LADIES WITH NUTS.

In a Bangkok temple:
IT IS FORBIDDEN TO ENTER A WOMAN EVEN A FOREIGNER IF DRESSED AS A MAN.

Hotel room notice, Chiang-Mai, Thailand:
PLEASE DO NOT BRING SOLICITORS INTO YOUR ROOM.

Hotel lobby, Bucharest:
THE LIFT IS BEING FIXED FOR THE NEXT DAY. DURING THAT TIME WE REGRET THAT YOU WILL BE UNBEARABLE.

Hotel elevator, Paris:
PLEASE LEAVE YOUR VALUES AT THE FRONT DESK.

Hotel, Japan:
YOU ARE INVITED TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE CHAMBERMAID.

Hotel, Vienna:
IN CASE OF FIRE, DO YOUR UTMOST TO ALARM THE HOTEL PORTER.

Hotel, Zurich:
BECAUSE OF THE IMPROPRIETY OF ENTERTAINING GUESTS OF THE OPPOSITE SEX IN THE BEDROOM, IT IS SUGGESTED THAT THE LOBBY BE USED FOR THIS PURPOSE.

Hotel, Japan:
YOU ARE INVITED TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE CHAMBERMAID.

In the lobby of a Moscow hotel across from a Russian Orthodox monastery:
YOU ARE WELCOME TO VISIT THE CEMETERY WHERE LIE FAMOUS RUSSIAN AND SOVIET COMPOSERS, ARTISTS, AND THERE WILL BE A MOSCOW EXHIBITION OF ARTS BY 15,000 SOVIET REPUBLIC PAINTERS AND SCULPTORS. THESE WERE EXECUTED OVER THE PAST TWO YEARS.

DISCIPLINE OR WHAT?

I blogged this true story a very long time ago, some friends might remember it. I used it as a talking piece when I was in the Women's Institute and, would you believe it, they all laughed. So did I, of course, it is easy to laugh when many years have passed. Anyway, here  it is again. Go on, have a giggle but only if you didn;t have a mother like mine!

A BRIEF  GLIMPSE OF CHILDHOOD

ENTITLED

"DISCIPLINE OR WHAT?"

For amusement I have decided to relate four incidents from the first eight years of my childhood. Though distressing ordeals at the time I now regard them as useful subjects for short discourses.

My first memory was of being abandoned, left entirely alone for what seemed like hours, a small toddler sitting on a baby's pot. It was not funny. My incompetent mother had gone out, probably for a matter of minutes but long enough for the enamel chamber pot to make an impression on me. I learned at a tender age not trust Mom’s parenting skills.

Did you have occasions when you wanted to disown your mother? Judging by the nodding heads in the front row I see you did. Well, let me relate an episode which still makes me cringe.

The scene was a crowded double-decker bus. We were sitting in the seat behind the driver, whose interior window was open. My tactless mother had suspected that the morning ritual of scrubbing teeth had been overlooked. Her voice was shrill when she demanded to know had they been cleaned.

The driver laughed.

I answered in the affirmative, speaking in a deep whisper, praying other passengers had not overheard.

'Let me have a look,' Mother said.

More sniggers issued from the driver's cab.

A man called from behind, 'Go on, kid, open wide.'

Believe me, I could have curled up and died.

In strident tones Mother persevered with her persecuting performance, jabbing my arm and instructing me to do as the man said.

A hearty guffaw sailed through the driver's window.

(Your chuckles remind me of those which reeled from seat to seat, upstairs as well as down.)

There was nothing for it, I was compelled to put my teeth on public display.

'I knew it!' Mother cried as she inspected each tooth.

Sinking them in her neck would have been unkind considering they were thick with plaque and decorated with remnants of the barley sugar I crunched at the bus stop. But Mother was quite decent about the indiscretion. She didn't hit me until we alighted from the bus.

A third circumstance concerns the fruit which Mother confined to a cut-glass bowl on the dining room table in a room overlooking the road. It was for display purposes only. The room was out of bounds but when Mother was out I would sneak in and pinch an apple or a pear, convinced that she would never know. One mad, mouthwatering moment I dared to steal a juicy red apple at a time too close to Mother's home-coming, lifting the fruit just as she passed the window. I was caught red-handed. What could I do? Where could I run to? Too late to contemplate suicide, I prepared for a beating. And my appetite for apples was destroyed.

I wonder if all children are as apprehensive of their mothers as I was. Mine scared me. She would wallop me for no reason. I daresay there were motives; if there were it didn't occur to her to disclose them.

I recall the time I came home from school bursting to spend a penny and dashing straight to the outside loo. During the process of unburdening, my ankles graced by navy-­blue knickers, my fingers pursuing the elusive toilet roll, the door shot inwards. Without a word Mother reached out and slapped my face, then closed the door and returned to the kitchen. She had been so angry that she couldn’t wait to dole out my punishment. I didn't challenge it. I knew when to keep my mouth shut. And until the end of my residence in that house I made sure to slide the bolt on the outside privy door.

Thank goodness parental attitudes have changed.

Thank you for listening.