Urgent English. …as the language takes to the streets ..citizens prepare hasty statements and in expert hands the present continuous and the hanging participle are wondrous things to behold…. madame joy with your irregular verbs and that elusive third declension. …drenched in your compact syntax ..we offer this day to you …….
Monthly Archives: January 2017
Can you tell me a bit more about the tall thing again … The flood warnings were coming in thickness fast …..The bag of pastilles was running low …and it was 9 Celsius .. well noodle it is my firm belief that people can grow in two different directions …up and down ….which I am ?…between the thrashing of the windscreen wipers and oncoming headlights I looked towards the passenger seat …sucking air between my teeth… you are growing down and this pushes you up ….up people are pushed down as they grow … a set of legs twiddle in the foot well. ….
And so I find my tax return filed and despite the most extraordinary prophets and losses I believe the HMRC will be pleased…..as I pushed the submit button …a dusty wind tugged at my dress …I wear lady clothes when doing the accounts ….I twisted to allow my flowing locks catch the afternoon sun …and discovered a new shadow on my wall …The big boys had felled a tree yesterday and a van was parked in its place ..The light bounced up from the van to create this atmospheric post tax return shadow on my office wall..bless the dead tree ..bless the big boys and bless the damned infernal HMRC….Oh the beauty of it all …..
When I first wrote these anecdotes .They were on photocopy pamphlets with instructions to be read out loud ..and so tonite I write this with an amount of difficulty ….So for those who have actually met my mother or have an image based on these jaundiced recollections I ask you to be seated when reading past this point , and under no circumstances should you be near someone with a hot drink …..ok here goes … despite the outward appearance of suburban sophistication our home life had its moments or what I call punctuations …having force fed us malt extract and encouraged plenty of exercise we have all grown to what a recent observer described as being a company of ” silver back gorillas “..mother in recent years has shrunk slightly but as I leaf through our non existent family photos I am reminded of one singular fact about mother during the 70s. …..we had rigid but not strict discipline at home and mealtime was no exception ….sorry just one, mother , who had a rather peculiar habit which only appeared when friends were over for dinner …..The table gifted with upto and on this occasion over 9 hungry mouths would ravage large pots of potatoes and with the careful use of garlic the fried liver in seasoning was welcomed by all .. however what was not welcome , ..mothers ability to belch …without warning with two fists thrust in the air like an opera singer about to sing an aria she would silent stare at my father and release an unearthly bellow from within her belly lasting upto a minute ….to help the reader if you can imagine a bull walrus defending it’s territory. …The first occasion this happened father a confident public speaker and mild mannered politician asked all the children to leave the table while dessert was being made ….The second time my friend daragh aged 9 had to be collected by his parents … mother has never explained the frequency and bellicose nature of these outbursts as I write this I am reminded of our kitchen windows rattling and my infant sister crying as the deafening blast gurgitated from her gaping mouth…and now in her dotage we often see a twinkle in her eye especially on big family meals out when a member of staff asks if everything was to our satisfaction ….us her children are poised like panthers ready to intervene in case she feels obliged to reply …. as a footnote This was not easy to write…..just think 74 and bull walrus…I ask you ?
And so with more pressure from the home office I am able provide documentation of my fictional adopted parents caught in a perambulatory stance .. here, on the afternoon they heard my post natal plee for attention ,nurturing, attachment and eventually presenting possible over identification with documentation. ..Some where in Nevada. …..I was discovered in a wicker basket with a missive “please do not feed this loud mouth abomination ..If you must keep it ..put the nappy on his mouth for his chromic verbal diarrhoea. … yours the distraught birth parents” .. although it was shot in 1970s I can confirm a non fiction date of much ealier
I will break my social media fasting to let you know. ..that stories such as THE SELF COMBUSTING ARMCHAIR…..THE ROLLER SKATING GANGS OF TULLAMORE…..MY PART IN THE GREAT KNEEL OF 1967 and much more can be found scratched onto to walls of ST LUKA`S Sanatorium for Crows , were I am doing some research ….now back to the fast …
Off to my first book club this morning …with no amount of caution and the enthusiasm of an infant child seeing a fluffy cat for the first time ….I bring a book I chose purely for its front cover and the possibility of hearing the shared experiences of citizens of totnes who have haunted husbands …and then the dread will visit me in case the actual story is so underwhelming that I might get very defensive …then unleash vitriolic observations about club members choice of clothes ,how silent their “H” sounds when they say three trees through …then having to back out of the community space offering to maim anyone who attempts to apologise for my bad behaviour ….but Let’s hope none of that happens …so here goes …”.hello my name is Maurice ..The book I hope to share is The Haunted..” Hus…….