Monday, December 12, 2011

I think it is Monday

birthday bbq the day before - held for my brother-in-law and myself - was pleasant and the eldest provided me a bottle of aged wine - 2004 - i love aged wine - like apple juice of the gods - my mother won't drink it - she thinks old wine will kill her and that the colour looks like urine

okay ... maybe it does resemble a dehydrated persons watery bi-product, but it's awesome anyway

I have (not actually) dead cats scattered around my flat
the heat
they just sleep it out

it is 10:30 pm and the thermometre says it is 32 degrees

I made one of my nieces listen to "Toms Diner" by suzanne vega and it now being played frequently - i am chuffed

but when will it be on?
is it boxing day?
I shall die of waiting
i hate waiting

Going Postal 17 December
but I am always a little disappointed with the tv versions of the books

my brain is a desert and i haven't written anything for fun for a year
at least
maybe more?

So ... flashback poem from August 2008

If I bought somebody home
Would they like my stuff?
Or would they just think my place was far to cluttered up?

Disapprove of all my books,
And hate all my little things.
Does my flat just represent my personal failings?

I’d want them to like my pictures,
And think the fake vines round the phone cord cool.
What if they just see the dust and cats and think me a lazy crazy fool?

Should I decorate more to lure the innocent and unwary?
Until I’ve got them in my grasp, then stick them with the laundry?

one day I shall get together the ones I like and draw a little cartoon to go with them and have them all printed out nice for myself - and which I will probably years down the line burn like wot i did my story starts/attempts from my pre-teens - lol

1 comment:

  1. Love that poem. The ambience of this house is 'cluttered and dusty'. And if I could only knit, I could knit another cat from the discarded fur.