Patch Final Chapter

 

Patch story, chapter 8.

I am now the Queen of the settee even though the French woman calls me Queen Mother because I love to roll on my back and to stretch,  living few space for the others to sit on it. I cant say that I get on well with the other  cats, in fact I tolerate them as they are in my house and my garden. They ignore me as much as I ignore them. On the whole I'm happy like that. The food is good, the water always clear ans fresh, the fire is  on 7/24. The FW is very kind to me, stroking me a lot and she even speaks English to me, even if I have improved my French, I appreciate a lot, it reminds me the Boss. The Boss must not worry for me, I am being well taken care and loved. I have decided to socialize with the French man and  woman's Friends, and now I come to them and I let them stroke me, I am no longer shy or savage with people, I even like a nap on the FW bosom ! Well that is all for now, its  time to have a good rest.. 

Dorothy Rowe Again

Dorothy Rowe "The first group I call "People Persons" or extraverts, and the second "What Have I achieved today Persons" or introverts...

I have found that introverts always know what is the most important to them but many extroverts do not, usually because they find it difficult to distinguish what........."

As an extrovert charges their inner batteries with other people, as

> Rowe theorizes, it does make sense they would not want social isolation.

> Perhaps isolation is too strong a term.  Perhaps extroverts need

> greater outer connection then introverts.  To an outgoing extrovert.,

> an average introvert may seem isolated.

ME

 " How I interest myself," V. Woolf 

What introverts need from external reality is something new to think about.

This speaks to my condition. Head space to think. Not head space to think about doing things or using thinking space because I am doing something.  

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

If I get enough, food for thought  that is , then I do not need to consume so much chocolate. cakes and cookies.

Dorothy Rowe

 I hope I don't have to look for it again.

"Even when we feel healthy and physically secure we have every day to find some optimum balance between our need to be an individual and our need to be a member of a group. If we go too far one way we are threatened with loneliness and isolation, and if we go the other way we are threatened by being swallowed up in the group. So every day we have to find an optimum balance between freedom and security. We cannot have both. The more free we are the less secure; and the more secure the less free. D Rowe ‘Beyond Fear’.

 Dorothy Rowe's 'Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people'.

 "Of course it is also true that 'good things happen to good people and bad things happen to bad people ." ME

Time again

Quentin Crisp---"People say,"Well it helps to kill time."  I don't want my time dead. "

Among all kinds of gifts, I give you most of all time...

Time to be happy, time to laugh,

Time to think, time to act

Some time for yourself but also to give to others.

Time to slow down not to run

Time not just to watch it pass the clock,

Time for you to wonder

Time to dream and time to grow

A time to hope and love.

Time to find yourself and to see happiness every day and every hour.

Time to forgive as well.

I wish you had time, time to live.

Fifty Michler

Photo Flags Kathmandu Nepal

I wish you all a great Sunday, with time to be cool of course!

Nine

Castles in the Air

Castles in the Air

What does it mean? My image of a castle is a huge stone building peopled with despotic rulers with oppressed servants and a dungeon full of miserable prisoners. Political aside - Thomas Paine was imprisoned in Luxembourg Prison, formally a palace. It looks very similar to a castle to me. The cells certainly looked like dungeons. Anyway Paine was sentence to execution but when the jailor marked his cell door with a cross the door was wide open so he painted it on the inside. Paine then closed the door and erased the cross. But I digress. Back to a castle in the air, in the air? I can't make that work. Isn't it an oxymoron? Or am I making a literal interpretation? Another oxymoron.  Sorry I sometimes get side tracked into a jungle of words.

My other image of a castle is the fairy tale kind peopled with princesses in floaty apparel and long tresses usually waiting for the mythical prince. Ugh. Not for me.

I found a photo recently of my youngest granddaughter in a Cinderella dress (prolific in shops these days) but also wearing a bicycle helmet and arm and leg protectors. She was on her bike. That's my girl.

Castles in the air not for me. What about bouncy castles? They are full of air and I have heard of them floating away in a heavy wind. My grandchildren had a birthday party in the Kidsgrove Leisure Centre. Another political aside-- when we had one.  So at the end of the party the castle operator offered the mums a go on the castle. What a great idea I thought and booked one for my 50th birthday.

So castle in the air doesn't work for me. I'll try daydream, pipe dream, flights of fancy. That last one has possibilities.  Definitely. Who wouldn't want to fly? I have dreamt that I could fly. It was the best feeling in the world. Now fancy. Does that mean with lacey frills and flounces?  I looked up synonyms for fancy and chose two, visualisation and ideas. 

I have done a lot visualisation exercises over the years and who hasn't had ideas? Good, bad and downright ugly. ( Sorry about that, I am prone to cliches).  I notice that there is an s on the end of castles and flights so I am going to take the liberty of offering several ideas.

The first is the one all the women in the Miss World Contest wish for - World Peace.  Now there is a real flight of fancy. I visualised myself flying around the world and descending in war-torn countries and areas of conflict with some kind of panacea. Or I could visit homeless people with offers of a home. Why can't they move into Buckingham Palace or one of the other 25 residences that the royal family own. Most of them are definitely castles but not in the air.  One, I feel would be most suitable is 

 "The Little Cottage" which was gifted to the then Princess Elizabeth by the Welsh people in 1932 and has served as the official royal playhouse for generations.

Another political aside-- if we all once lived in caves how did we get to this ludicrous and cruel world where some people do live in castles and others live on the streets?  And don't tell me about free will. Have you all read "The Queen and I" by Sue Townsend where the Queen lives in a council house? The opposite if a castle in the air.

My next fancy was to imagine ( Isn't that the title of a song by John Lennon ) that when I woke up in the mornings I leapt out of bed pain-free.   I could write for hours and paint for even longer. I could walk for miles, even dance and play tennis and badminton and play my clarinet and violin. Even play the piano. Remember Sparky. Oh yes and of course eat, eat anything and everything. Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate. Of course I wouldn't put on weight.

But my real flight of fancy begins at Gatwick airport. I take a flight and when I arrive at my destination I am met by a gentleman. He shakes my hand and welcomes me warmly.

He takes my case and says," Follow me madam there is a car waiting to take you to your hotel."

We arrive at a fabulous five star hotel. My chauffeur deals with the registration and takes me to my room which has an excellent view of the city.  Before he leaves my guide informs me that he will pick me up in the morning. Also that breakfast will be served in the dining room or that I can ring for room service. 

As he leaves he say," Oh by the way the bar is still open if you wish to have a night cap."

 After my nightcap, I sleep well and decide to breakfast in the dining room.  I shower and dress. I wear a trouser suit bought specially for the occasion.  I descend to the dining room where I find a breakfast menu to die for. I am not too nervous to eat but enjoy everything on offer.

I return to my bedroom just as the phone is ringing. "Madam, your car is here to take you to the venue." I thank him and tell him I'll be right down. I put on my coat and hat and pick up my gloves and handbag. I descend the stairs again and the porter opens the door for me, comes out to the car and opens the car door too. I slide into the back seat and ask the driver if he knows where I am going? 

"Of course madam," he replies.

On arrival there seem to be many people waiting. Oh my god there is a red carpet. I alight from the car, thank the driver and step gingerly onto the carpet. I hear polite utterances from the people each side of the red carpet. I feel as though I am on a catwalk. I wonder if I am  supposed to wave? I opt for smiling to my left and right. Finally what seems like eternity I reach the open door where a woman takes me by the elbow and leads my away from all the people and whispers," Don't worry I'll help you. I've been through all this palaver.  Just keep breathing." 

I look at her face and say, " Oh my god, Toni, no you can't be".

"Shush and listen come with me," she says.

She takes me into a kind of waiting room which is empty.

 "Now let's sit down. Take some deep breaths and remember all the time, keep breathing. Do you have your speech. Let me look at it?"

I take a sheet of paper from my hand bag which she reads.

" Not bad but here take this and read it through a couple of times while I just check the time and see where we are in the proceedings." 

She leaves and I read quickly, then again more slowly. She returns. 

" Are you ready now?"

I nod.   

"Wait at the side of the stage until you hear your name then walk confidently towards the king. Bow and shake his hand. He will introduce you to the audience who will clap for what seems like for ever and then invite you to speak. You walk slowly to the podium, place your notes carefully on the lectern,  look straight at the audience, wait for them to stop applauding, take a deep breath and begin.  Now go."

 I hear my name, I see the banner above the stage which says, "Nobel Prize for Literature". I walk forward confidently as Toni advised me. I bow and shake the Kings hand.  I turn and walk to the podium, place my notes on the lectern and begin.

" Thank you so much for the warm reception and for for -----.

I am in sitting in front of my computer in my office and now I have ended my story exactly as I was told not to at school. It was all a dream or a Flight of Fancy if you wish or even a castle in the air.

Slimy,Greasy, Water

 I reach down through the slimy greasy water to remove the sick making remnants of the last meal , a piece of egg, lettuce and tomato.

George Martin on the radio says," I composed this to describe middle america and was fortunate enough to have John Williams-------------."

The contents of the plug hole feel like the innards of a toad. I drop them in the bin and wonder how long it is since George Martin or John Williams did this if ever.

Dialogue Mother and Daughter

Dialogue For Kidsgrove Writers' 

Sarah: You're late again. What is your excuse this time.

Jean: I had to collect the children from school today.

Sarah: I don't know why they can't walk home by themselves. My mother never collected me from school. If she had, the other children would have made fun of me. They would have called me a sissy or a baby. 

Jean: Well times have changed. For one thing there is a lot more traffic and crossing the road is dangerous.

Sarah: Isn't there a lollipop lady or something? Why they have to give lollipops to kids to cross the road I don't know.

Jean: It's not that--- Oh never mind. Did Margaret come this morning?

Sarah: She did for all the use she is. They keep changing the rules and cutting her time. I don't know why she even comes.

Jean: She gets your breakfast and makes a flask for you doesn't she?

Jean: Yes but she used to do a lot more. She used to hoover and dust and fold the washing and wash dishes. Anyway, nobody cares about old people.

Jean. So did the doctor come? Did he leave a prescription?

Sarah: He left something. It's on the sideboard if you can see it with all the dust. I think it's for that stuff I rub on my foot and the stuff I take for constipation and the stuff for cramp. Oh, I don't know. You sort it out if you've got time. I suppose you're rushing off now. Better things to do than sit with me.

Jean: I'll take these to the chemist now before they close then I can bring you the stuff tomorrow.

Sarah: Don't be late and don't bang the door.

Jean: Ooooops.

################################

Jean: Hello, It's a beautiful da----

Sarah: Thank goodness you've come. I am dying in this heat. The sun is coming straight through the bay.  Open that top window.

Jean: Why don't you go and sit in the other room. It's cold in there.

Sarah: Oh, oh, I should have thought about that. Yes, it is cool in here. Why didn't I think of it earlier. You should have come earlier. anyway did you get all the stuff? Put it in the kitchen.

Jean: Do you feel better now? Did the nurse come this morning?

Sarah: Yes. 

Jean: Did she treat your ulchers?

Sarah: She took the bandages off and put on clean ones and took some photos. But nothing changes. How can photographs help?

Jean:  I suppose they want to know if it is improving.

Sarah: I can tell them that. It is not, in fact if anything it's getting worse. 

Jean: I 'll get your tea shall I? What would you like - sardines on toast?

Sarah: Yes and don't burn the toast.  I'll have one of those what d'y  call em  yo-yo things in pots. 

Jean: There you are and there's a cup of tea as well. See you tomorrow.  Bon appetite. 

Sarah: Don't show off speaking in foreign. It's not clever, and don't be late. And don't bang the ---

#########################################

Sarah:  You're early. I suppose you are going out.

Jean: Yes, as it happens, I've got a meeting at the Town Hall.

Sarah: Town Hall? What's it for, sounds important.

Jean: Yes it is. It's about you. I am going to talk to your social worker.

Sarah: What nonsense. I don't need a social worker and who is that woman who just comes and sits and asks me questions?

Jean: Weeeell, she is just a visitor to make sure you don't spend too much time alone.

Sarah: Rubbish. I know what you're up to. You are trying to make out that I not all there. You're not going to put me in Westcliffe. 

Jean: Don't be silly it's not a workhouse anymore. It's a hospital now.

Sarah: That's what they tell you but I know better. It's a workhouse.

Jean: I must go or I shall be late.

Sarah: That's right rush off like always.

Jean: I'll see you tomorrow then.

Sarah: Don't slam the door.

#######################################################

Sarah:  Hello. It's cold out today. I think they have forecast snow later.

Sarah:  Makes no difference to me. Is that y' new winter coat. I don't like it. Horrible jazzy thing. Why don't you buy a nice plain coat.  And I don't like those earrings either, big dangly things. What's wrong with those gold sleepers I gave you?

Jean: Did meals on wheels bring your dinner? What was it today?

Sarah: You know very well what it was today. It's Friday. Fish. It's always fish on Friday.

Jean: So tomorrow is Saturday and they don't come on Saturday do they?  I'll pop in and get some dinner for you.

Sarah: And don't be late. I have my dinner at half past twelve on the dot. Always have, always will.

Jean: See you tomorrow then, au revoir.

Sarah: Don't be clever and don't slam the --

#####################################################

Sarah: Good morning. How are we feeling today? It's a bit early to be sleeping. Wakey, wakey. Oh no. No, no, no.  

Emergency service: Which service do you require?  Police fire, or ambulance?

Jean:  Ambulance please. I can't feel a pulse. 

Kill the Bill

 

Dialogue for Kidsgrove Band of Writers

  Jean:  Sorry, sorry, sorry. I am out of breath. I know I'm late. I always seem to be in a rush. I can't remember any of the rules. Can we exchange names ? I know I'm not supposed to ask why you are  here. But --- Why are you laughing?

Pierre:  You have certainly made an entrance. And there was me thinking that we would be sitting here in silence. My name is Pierre. I suppose it doesn't matter really I could say my name is Mozart.  You can tell me your name. So who are you?

Jean: Funny you should say that about names because I have several personas. I am Jean when I write and Fleure when I garden.  I did once call myself Victoria Richards.  Anyway enough about me. I suppose I am here to help you but I can't deny that there is a bit of the do-gooder about it for me.

Pierre: You have cheered me up already. 

Jean: It must be dire if I have cheered you up.  I suppose it's boring  being locked up 24 /7. Oh dear that's not an appropriate thing to say is it?

Pierre:  That's OK. I'm a musician, a composer. So getting a lot of quiet time is actually helpful. I compose in my head. I'm writing an opera about isolation so being in here is quite useful.

Jean: Can't you write something political? There are so many causes we need to fight for. Although I suppose isolation could be political. They say everything is political don't they, whoever they are, even the price of butter. I don't eat butter. Now that is political cause I'm a vegan. Sorry, I know, I know I do ramble.

Pierre:  I am a pacifist so I try to avoid all kinds of conflict.

Jean: There's the bell. Just as things were getting interesting. Sorry I was late. I'll be on time next month.

Pierre: I have enjoyed our short chat. I will looking forward to seeing you next month er Jean. Bye.

Jean: Bye Pierre See ya.

######################################################

Jean: Hello, hello, hello. How are you today? How is the writing going? Oh I could have brought some manuscript paper for you. Is that what you use to write opera ? 

Pierre: Good morning and one question at a time. Manuscript paper would be useful. 

Jean: Did you know that there was an opera written about Greenham Common? You know about Greenham Common of course? It is called The Gates of Greenham the opera that is. It isn't bad but I wish it had  been written by a woman. We sing some great songs down there. Did I tell you I go to Greenham? 

Pierre: Yes and no. Yes I do know about Greenham and no you didn't tell me that you went. What do you do there besides singing?

Jean: Oh it's great. We do all sorts of things. We cut the fence obviously and sometimes we go into the base. What is really great we meet women from all over the world. I have met women from France, Germany, Japan and Holland to name a few. The most dangerous action is cruise watch. I am too chicken to do that. 

P. I couldn't protest but I am pleased that you are doing it.

J. I go to Burton-Wood too. It's an American base, kind of storage depot, mostly underground, seven stories underground. It's near Liverpool. I have been fined for cutting the fence there but I have always chickened out of going to jail. I always get help from the peace groups to pay my fines. Anyway enough about me. Tell me more about this opera you are writing.

Pierre:  I am very interested in your life but I am sure you wouldn't be interested in life in here.  Anyway Tell me why you're a vegan?

Jean: No,no, It's so boring I am tired of explaining it to folks. Just one thing though it's not because I think we shouldn't eat animals. I don't think we should be cruel to them either but it is much more complicated than that. Perhaps I'll explain next time. I am much more interested in your composing.

Pierre: I hear music in my head all the time. When I get the chance I write it down, then when I get out of here I'll get some singers and musicians to make it real.

Jean: Isn't there any way you could have access to a piano or something?

Pierre: You are joking if they put a piano in here it would get smashed up in minutes.

Jean: Do you remember in the sixties they had piano smashing competitions? Disgraceful. Why would anyone want to smash a wonderful instrument like that?  People ay. And then recently people started putting pianos in the street with a note inviting people to have a go. Times change.

Pierre: There have always been buskers.  I think it is illegal to busk.  You have to have a licence from the council or something. 

Jean: Yes music in public places has always seemed to challenge the powers that be. I read somewhere that music was banned in Scotland years ago and people gathered in basements and played mouth music. Oops there's the bell again. Just as things were getting interesting. See you next time. Tara.

Pierre: Bye Jean.

######################################################

Jean: Still here then? Sorry that's not funny anymore is it? And I haven't brought anything. How long is left of your sentence?  Are up for parole soon ?

Pierre: As long as I don't blot my copy book, cross your fingers for me.

Pierre: So what are you up to these days?

Jean: I am not totally sure. I need to tell you that I am in court next week so depending on my sentence I may not be able to visit next month or in fact a few months.

Pierre: It will only be a fine won't it?

Jean : Not this time. I thought that my group have wasted too much time raising money for my fines. Besides this time I not only cut the fence but we went into the base. It was quite brilliant. We went in and found an unlocked  bus. Trish did something fancy with wires and started it. We went driving round the base picking up other women at other gates before we were caught.

Pierre: So does that mean you will go to prison. 

Jean: I hope so because a lot of the women who have often been in Holloway, have set up a new campaign group to try to improve the conditions. 

Pierre: Can't you campaign from outside prison?

Jean: Of course but I want to go in and talk to some of the women to find out why they are in there and what the conditions are really like ----. Oh I'm not sure it's just something I feel I have to do.

Pierre: Well if you have to, you have to. I hope the food is better in Holloway than in this dump.

Jean: Sorry about that. I could have brought you some delicious vegan food.

Pierre: That's OK. I should be out soon. The parole board meets tomorrow. 

Jean: I don't know what to say. Will you be able to let me know where you will be living when you get out.

Pierre: I am not sure. I may have to go back to France. 

Jean: Then you won't visit me in prison.

Pierre: I want to say, then we won't meet again, but that sounds a bit dramatic. 

Jean: It's sad that's what it is. I can't believe it. I want to hear your opera.  How will I hear it? Can you record it and send  a cassette to Holloway? I think I'll be there for three months.

Pierre and Jean : There's the bell. So that's it then. It really is goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.

Patch's story Chapter Three

 

So boxes and more boxes. Now I'm getting worried. The table in the conservatory has been pushed back and is piled to the ceiling with boxes. Every space in here is full of the damn things. Fortunately my corner of the white settee is still free and my special cushion is here.

So today is Monday and I don't know how they are going to have the Group because the table is crammed with boxes and all the floor space is covered and the chairs are piled up. It's a nightmare. In fact I've started dreaming about boxes. OH they have begun to arrive. So something is happening today. They are all sitting in the other room and everybody has brought flowers. The Boss is standing in front of everybody making a speech. I peep round the door and see her give something to Lorraine. She's the Boss's best friend. Perhaps it's Lorraine's birthday. They are drinking wine not tea. It must be a birthday.

Now something's happening. The Boss says she can hear a drip. They all go to look and there is water coming from the bathroom through a light fitting and making a puddle on the floor. They all rush around running up and down stairs getting a bucket to catch the water. Well it can't be much can it? One drip. They all leave and things seem to calm down.

The next few days are manic. Plumbers come and go and none of them can find the source of the drip. It is all very worrying. The boxes are still around and everything is focused on the damn drip. Then it happens.

She comes down stairs on the Friday morning (I was already up and having my breakfast) then she lets out a loud screech. The ceiling had fallen in.

Patch's Story Chapter 7

Patch's Story Chapter 7

So, I watch everyday as the six cats individually exit the house and wonder around my garden as if they own it. I keep well hidden of course. They smell every metre, every tree, shrub, bush and flower. They are leaving their scents everywhere. I have to do something about it. Not only have I lost  my food and comfort provider ( she stroked me a lot) I am going to lose my territory. My territory.

I have hatched a plan. The next time they are all snooping about my garden I shall enter their territory. Well it is not theirs's. It is really mine anyway. They have stolen it. 

It is quite cold today so I think this will be a good time to put my plan into action. I watch them leave the house one by one. I carefully count six. I move stealthily towards the house. I know that the two people have left the house and have driven off in their cars. So here goes. I push at the cat flap and it opens. I creep inside. Wow! It is warm in here. Much warmer than when lived here with the Boss although I always managed to find places to keep warm as you can see from my photo. 

I sniff and creep, and sniff and creep. I quickly find a huge settee covered in furry blankets. I sniff around it and I am pretty sure all six cats loll around on this. There is a kind of box thing hooked onto the kitchen divider. That smells like a cat sleeps in there. I like boxes I might try it for size. I leap up and find that it contains the cuddliest, fluffiest blanket of all. Mmmmmm. I wouldn't mind a box like this. I think I'll have forty winks. I don't think anyone, cat or person will be back for a while. 

Oh,Oh. Have I been asleep. I think I heard someone come in. I open one eye and peer over the side of my box. It's him. The man. A hand appears then starts to stroke me. What a liberty. I don't even know him. Still, it feels nice.  It reminds me of the Boss. I didn't realise how much I missed her. So what do I do now? He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on. I contemplate making an exit but it is so cosy here. 

 One by one the six cats come in have a quick drink then hope up onto the settee. Now then, this could be tricky. Yes all six. Well it is a large settee. I think it is called L-shaped. I really don't care what it is called because I am really happy in my box. Notice I have called it my box. Yes I think I could be quite happy here in my private domain. I am warm and I can observe everything. I can see into the kitchen and who is asleep on the settee and even into the room beyond.  

Well it's not their home, it's my home. It feels new because the furniture is different and the Boss never came back. The new owners, apparently that's what they are, have bought La Ville Joly . They are French so I really don't understand what they are talking about, but they are kind and they feed me. 

He, the man comes over to my box and strokes me again. Yes I think I could get used to this. perhaps I'll put up with it until the Boss comes to fetch me. And if she doesn't well zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.