And other things.

I was up in the middle of the night here – 04:00 ( 19:00 your time) and Lynne was sleeping in the next room (our last room is a small apartment just off the Danube – expensive but comfortable.I bought a notebook during the evening stroll so I wrote this:

Finding Molly / To leave her /First you must find her / Of course that means /She has found herself / So she can give you /The nessessary directions /// There may be confusion /Along your way / Volcanoes /Changing currencies /And languages /Maps /And Histories /Strange Foods /And Drink ///She gives you a Picture /Of a Girl in a Meadow /////Budapest 2010

-Ken Leduc

I know exactly who to blame this on.  This is a contagious condition and I spent last weekend in the company of a boy with severe chronic symptoms.

I did my morning’s hour of work and got back in to bed to writhe a bit and call a friend.  She suggested I treat myself manually.  I’d already beat her to it.  Twice.

Nothing to do but seriously consider jumping the plumber downstairs and continue to revel in my sickness until I’d passed on the itch over the phone and somewhat steadied myself for sane interaction.

It’s still bad.  I need a nurse.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the way, I promise to be more faithful here.

Though I may have to resort to taking out my physical frustrations through the  misuse of words.

Lust, not love, is an overpowering and contagious physical affliction.

- Molly.   Actually this is how eyes go like.  With broken bits.

- Molly?

- Yeah?

- My love is all gone.

-  Oh.  I love you, Jackson.  Lots and lots.  Why is your love gone?

- I gave it away to Joe.  He didn’t give it back.  But when you give your love away you are supposed to get it back…   always.

Their mother has gone to Australia for three weeks.  And their Dad is generally pretty busy, so I’ll be the one keeping them alive and clean and stuff. 

 Just as she was on her way out the door to the airport, she pointed out a new house-plant and appointed me as its keeper.  But what if it’s too much?  One too many straws for my camel?  Which of my charges can I more safely neglect if it comes to that?  The boys might survive on ruthless wild instinct…  but in their search for fodder, they may turn on the plant…  or on the rest of us. 

The plant has to go. 

How does one discreetly dispose of a purple Hyacinth?

NASA?

David Bowie?

This problem needs to be addressed, or I’m gonna have to change my life plans fairly drastically.