Friday, September 18, 2015

Now that this is Heaven (op. 351)

Pink Daughter has gleaned notions of Heaven from her reading.  She asks me whether it is possible that we are all dead and that this is Heaven.

[We dry the lavender over the range]

This thought has never occurred to me before so I give it some consideration and reply that yes, it is highly likely.

[When we tire of the lavender fluttering down into our pans of goulash and risotto, we dry the lavender elsewhere.]

As this is now Heaven, it is important to make it seem thus. We order a four-tier box of chocolates, the fancy sort with drawers and gilding on the coffee creams, and send the rest of our money to ease poverty in Uganda.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

National Geographic (op. 350)

"Everything I know, I learned from the National Geographic magazine," I told my distant neighbour, Mary Assumpta.

I could see her taking that on board. She nodded respectfully, clearly understanding at once that here was a force to be reckoned with, a font of information, someone whom she should invite to be on her team at the next table quiz held by the Ladies of the Parish as part of their ongoing fundraising for the flat earth hypothesis.  She patted my arm and asked me to tea. Mary Assumpta is a good baker. I accepted.

A tribeswoman of the Western Atlantic Seaboard poses by her scant crop of sunflowers and cornflowers. Her land has been hit by the rains this summer and her south lawn is impassable. 

What Mary Assumpta didn't realise is that I meant just one issue of the National Geographic magazine.  Last month's, to be precise. If you want to know about the Jade Sea, Laos, taxidermy or Pope Francis, I am your woman.  Anything else: no.

Thank you all for your lovely comments on my last post. It is a matter of honour with me to reply effusively and individually to all commentators (or acerbically to the meanies) but occasionally my honour lets me down.


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