Spinning love into divisive fertility

2009-08-01T21:27:00.004+01:00

I'm not sure how Bessy arrived at such a conclusion but it was one I couldn't ignore: when being divisive one's mind is at its most fertile. I asked Margaret if she had changed Bessy's breakfast mix but in spirit Margaret was communing with wasps in between the rafters above the kitchen. The question meant nothing to her at that moment.

Felix, thankfully, was in his normal spot overlooking the Channel. Except that half of him was also in a love-struck relationship with a woman he'd once known when marching with Oliver Cromwell. I asked if there was any point, given that she wasn't around anymore. She is where he is, he responded, and suggested I find some way to take advantage of life's opportunities a little more rather than picking holes in others' life formats. It got me wondering about my life format and then I got a bit confused.

George told me once he'd won a competition for spinning around and wondering why. I've no idea why one would do that.

Cookie has gone on holiday. She went via the high volume suction.

Divisions and creativity, spinning and suction, love and wasps. It's all there, every day.

Rhythmic bellows anticipating swallows in their pyjamas

2009-06-28T21:30:00.005+01:00

There are days when everything seems to come together. This weekend Bessy, Margaret and I had ventured once again into the mountains and landed in an abandoned Welsh farmhouse.

There were sheep communing, fern-clad slopes waving and the faint mmmmmm of something wonderful - there but intangible, warmth without source, anticipation dangling like a brother with a spider on his thread.

Yes, it was my birthday and one not to forget. Bessy dived into a nearby reservoir and resuscitated a thought brought to a halt when it was constructed. Funnily enough, the thought - which Bessy communicated by whipping the wire of the fence in a particular rhythm we two understand - was one that made absolutely no sense to me: will the bellows in the kitchen turn the corner before the pyjamas catch them? It might be that I missed something. Or it might not.

Margaret watched a few swallows doing their thing above us as we ate lunch and decided to take to the air too. It was quite something to see her manoeuvre in such a way, particularly when in the air. I think that's why I love her so much - there's nothing she won't have a stab at and entertain me with as she does.

What a birthday. Simple things like lots of air and loose-fitting clothing. Lovely.

Half Dentist

Spinning love into divisive fertility

Rhythmic bellows anticipating swallows in their pyjamas