... of the seven deadly sins, the eighth and most horrid is emotional blackmail ... whilst for this blogger, the only sacred thing is life itself
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
3BT, 5th April 2012 … no four ! ... no, five !
Just after
four in the morning, the bus to work is trundling through the darkness along
the edge of Clapham Common. On the
Common side of the road, in a brightly lit bus shelter, sits a fox.
In Horsham,
an oncoming vehicle catches my eye. It
is a very old VW Camper, a low-rider, meticulously restored and perfectly re-painted in
cream and white. The driver looks
interesting, a slender man, tweed suit, bow tie, old-fashioned bushy moustache
and, I think although it was only a glimpse, half-moon spectacles. From the cab of my little truck I stare down
into the pale interior which looks as if it has been re-organised and
re-furnished to look a bit like a stretch limo.
On a plush bench seat in the back, with acres of legroom, sits a
laughing bride between her two maids.
My least
favourite word in the lexicon of management-speak is “just”. Can you just … ? Today it is “Can you Just deliver a pallet
for Dubai to an air freighter’s warehouse, as close to twelve as possible ?" This will, of course be in the middle of one
of the year’s busiest working days, the last before the Easter holiday, and
will involve a diversion that will add an hour to an over-long day. Miraculously, after all kinds of delays and
hardships, smoothing out a few customers because of some typical office
blunders, and working flat out from four thirty onwards, I arrive at one minute
to twelve, am unloaded, and depart at one minute past.
Down a grimy
backstreet in chaotic Brixton, a tall girl with an upturned white face and long dark red
hair parted symmetrically, and totally the wrong shade of pale red lipstick on
a un-kiss-ably gloomy mouth, is walking with stately grace, arms straight and
holding a flower pot at zipper height, from which stands incongruously a single
perfect orchid on a very long stalk, its creamy white flower with an erotically
hot pink centre facing forward only six inches away from her lips, as if
embodying or symbolizing or pre-determining the imminence of that magically
transforming kiss.
A big Caribbean mum clambers on to the bus with three carrier bags in each hand. Four children follow, three girls and a tiny boy. The girls ( 7?, 9?, 11? ) are also carrying bags. They have identical spectacular showbiz hairstyles … upwardly mobile dark curls sculpted like flames and culminating in a gold tinted peak well off to the left. All four children have brand new violin cases slung across their backs.
A big Caribbean mum clambers on to the bus with three carrier bags in each hand. Four children follow, three girls and a tiny boy. The girls ( 7?, 9?, 11? ) are also carrying bags. They have identical spectacular showbiz hairstyles … upwardly mobile dark curls sculpted like flames and culminating in a gold tinted peak well off to the left. All four children have brand new violin cases slung across their backs.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
clearly, half the world have already seen this lovely animated fantasy about the life of books ... but that needn't stop me from endorsing it
Monday, April 2, 2012
today would have been george collinson's next birthday, and whilst i mourn him, i know that he would have preferred a smile ...
he was very fond of football, and of original thinking
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ur5fGSBsfq8
and he was rarther keen on chess, too, although i can't remember if we ever discussed that game in the context of the life and work of marcel duchamp ... if you can call it all work !
but i digress and so ... to conclude, if there's a collinson-type of heaven, then it should be very easy for us to track him down when we arrive by the sound of his booming laughter
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Saturday, March 31, 2012
serendipitize for long enough and ye shall find ... renaud garcia-fons !
one of my grandfathers was a coal miner in wales, the dust finished him
this old radio classic is available on the bbc for a few days
http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/console/b00lm92q
off to walk the dog again ... i find it helps to have the appropriate music in my ears when i'm skulking on the common
put yer headphones on and get yer ears ravished 1973 style
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x1Pa_FxaoAU
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
3BT
As the truck roars by the edge of their field, two wild rabbits sit up from their breakfast, and their pricking ears are illuminated with the early sunlight.
In the smart new kitchen at Ockenden Manor, I make an early delivery which coincides with the moment when Murielle, their wonderful French baker and patissier and chocolatier, is handing out some little slices of a cake she’s made with walnuts and oranges. It is probably what the Gods eat when she’s at home in those southern mountains.
At the bottom of Horsted Keynes village, I approach the chicane-cum-crossroad with a caution born of experience. The hedges make it a blind junction and there are aged pedestrians in sight. As I slow to about 20mph for the left-hander, so a brand new Range-Rover coming from the opposite direction, and driven by a woman young enough to be my daughter, cuts across my path at about 50mph. I stand on the brake and the truck demonstrates the efficiency of its electronic traction control with a brief skid, the tyres squeal but there is no sign of a wobble. She shoots by with a look of terror on her face. In the mirror I am pleased to see nothing but a little cloud of blue smoke illuminated with the early sunlight.
and later ... three more illuminated and beautiful things
The first yellow butterfly of the year flitting past an oakwood.
A green woodpecker flying along side a dark bank of cypress trees.
A huge spherical bumblebee, with long black hairs and a bright orange bum, hovering besides a metallic purple car.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
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