LAWN KILL
Serendipitous scenario: I take the camera round the garden to snap the 'pressure points', as we shiatsu types know them. Although I cursed and reviled villa thefti and all who sailed her in every nook and c as i plodded round, in tranquil recollection certain areas have taken on the character of specific black prayers ~ penury, physic, violence, disharmony, the usual ~ and i thought i'd make an album for posterity and some whipcrack snarky captions. As I was doing this a pal of maman's rolled up and sarcastically praised me for 'getting' jardinerie. I told her what i was actually up to and she sniggered but followed me round as i rattled off my commentary. Then i made tea and produced fresh biscuits and we looked out at the view that, for five years eight months, my mother compared to a perfect hong kong winter day. Then the pal drove off and i grabbed the puter and wrote mails to my girls including my tour of doom. All this walking the overgrowth and remembering had taken me back and my mood was vicious. I marked the calendar, 'elginiasmos day'. Next day with coffee on patio, noticed what looked like fluffy stuff on the lawn. Assumed it was a pigeon the cat had trapped and rent asunder. When i went down to the lawn i saw it was actually some sort of furry ex-creature but unrecognisable. Very interesting sight. Snapped it liked a murder scene and was delighted to see a tiny skull - a cat? could it be Louki? too small, wrong shape. Anyway. Because i can't work this new blogger format with its frigging div class separators, i can't be bothered to arrange the snaps in order. But they're self-explanatory. Walk round garden remembering the vileness and all my hubble bubble nonsense. Next day, gruesomnia. A bit fronking late but better than never. A light breeze wafting the strands aloft and up n away to Theftishire. Reminds me of Fred Trueman story: Cabbie: 'The station?' Fred: I'm a bit bloody late for the battle.' See left for Sam looking innocent. Excellent omen, wonderful timing. Obviously old. Wonder if it was dear Louki who just upped and vanished, not like her. I thought a vipere, Mum said car but nah she never ventured out. Plus she was black n white - does age of a corpse turn it brown and anonychat? El Fiery hails cab: 'Waterloo!'
4 comments :
Why not use the option to revert to the old blogger format? Maybe they will have mercy and extend the change-over time?
i can do that? dude! ta. will execute
Dear Corfucius,
The grandfather and great uncle of my wife assisted your father, Edmund Teesdale and Sir Robert Thompson escape from Hong Kong in Jan 1942. My wife is researching this subject and wondered if you'd mind if we could contact you to share any information.
My email address is andrewpickford@ttc-global.com
Cheers
Andrew
thanks for making contact. Nah, i have nothing to say. do you know my archiving cousin/whatever removed, peter hall of the superb 'in the web' and 'in the web 2012 edition'? much more use to you. do you know, i never knew eddie teesdale was 'edmund'. good luck researching further. do you know oliver lindsay's story of "BAAG"? of course it's not in the house because every single good book gets lend n of course never returned.
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