winkgirl4's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On the Brighter side of things On a lighter note, some correspondance from my friend, Andrew: My dearest Heather, I hope that you are well today. for myself, i am shitting bricks because weare now ten days away from completion on our new house and our buyer has now said that he needs more time - the stupid little fucker. It's the girls' birthdays this week. Mollys's was on Sunday and Rosie's is on Saturday. My mother rang to say that she had seen some nice flip flops in Gap and would they like a pair each. These shoes retail at about $8 US and my mother has more pairs of Manola Blahnik and Jimmy Choo shoes hidden away in her house than I have had hot dinners. I told her that I'd prefer it if she gave them some shoe shop vouchers. She tried to wriggle out, claiming not to know from where to get them etc. but they arrived today. Needless to say, they do not cover the full price of a pair of children's shoes. To cheer myself up, this morning, I danced for Molly and Rosie, while they ate their breakfast. They thought that it was very funny indeed. I told them that they shouldn't laugh too much because that was how i was going to dance at their weddings! At this, they looked silently at each other in total horror, before almost falling off their chairs with laughter. molly pointed out that they need not worry because by the time they married, I would be too old and decrepit to dance!! POEM FOR WEDNESDAY, MAY 5, 2004 This be the verse They fuck you up, your mum and dad They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn By fools in old-style hats and coats, Who half the time were soppy-stern And half at one another's throats Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can, And don't have any kids yourself. Philip Larkin Oops! It would seem that that last piece of advice came too late for the two of us! A few months ago, I had luncheon with a retired antiquarian book dealer who had put out an APB to track me down (by way of his column in the local paper). Flattered, I arranged to meet him for a chat over a beer (actually he had a couple of glasses of red wine, but I at least had a beer) He told me that he had once sat next to Larkin in the station buffet at York. He uttered not a word. But when Larkin left he found this poem scribbled on a beer mat: 'They fuck you up, the train announcements; They may not mean to, but they do. When you hear their rasped pronouncements You know your train is overdue.' What do you think Merryweather? Was he pulling my leg? He assured me that it was true! I must leave you now as I actually have work to do! Warmest regards Please write soon Andrew Now, can you see why hearing from him is usually the only bright point of my day? It's apparent, a good dose of Andrew is just the best medicine. 3:05 p.m. - 2004-05-05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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