Recap on a day

So let's recap. Today I produced a smutty translation of a piece of graphiti found on a toilet door circa 1955 into french. 

Had an argument with Daily Telegraph subscription department about a renewal which I had not authorised. 

Continuing the scatological theme visited the pharmacy in Talgarth and brought back tablets and a large box of Laxido, which I always think deserves a chorus " raring to go, go, go".(like Texaco)

Watched an hour and a half lecture on Wittgenstein.

Posted a moan about broken Britain.

Noticed some small sign of life in our old cherry tree which I thought had died. Nevertheless resurrection is out of the question even though Easter approaches'

Now started on the wine.

C'est la vie.

The day is not yet over. I was speaking to my friend Krishna Bhatt the writer in Nepal on Messanger as I watched an elderly man assisted with two sticks slowly advance down the drive. When he got to the door and I opened it he said he wanted to give me a leaflet for the liberal democrats. I said "I am sorry but I am far right adjacent" . He said "Far right !!" not recognising the 'ajacent' reference, "You don't mean Reform do you!!?". I said "Yes Reform" . He said "Jesus Christ" and shuffled back up the drive faster than he came in

Pinkie

Speaking of the Raj , we had living in the village a widow called Marjorie Joy and her little black poodle called Flossie.
She often wore pink, Marjorie I mean. She and her husband had spent years in colonial service out east somewhere and I imagined them every evening in the English club at the bar. With Ann , much to Ann's annoyance I used to refer to her as 'Pinkie' partly because of her colour preference and partly I imagined her in the imaginary bar having a preferred tipple of 'pink gin'. "I say Pinkie steady on old girl, that's your fourth".

Mr Garforth and the Joke

In 1961 I started my first job at The London & Manchester in Finsbury Square in the non-marine department. It was there I met Ann. All of the files were in the basement, and kept in boxes. It was dark and dusty and was tended by one person Mr Garforth. He seemed very old at the time but could have been between 50 and 60. He had I think spent a lot of his life up until then working on the railways in India and although he wasn't indian there was something about the way he moved that seemed very indian. He was always chewing as if he were having having a problem with a set of false teeth. I also remember some of his address because the name intrigued me. It was Half Moon St . He was very excited because Deni his young friend  was coming from India to live with him. I found that slightly odd at the time but couldnt say why and in any event I liked him. Anyway he told me this joke. I cant remember the exact words he used but remember the form and the punchline.

It  was about some great white Bwana addressing a tribe in Africa about how he was bringing civilisation to the tribe. He told of the mighty railroad they would build. He promised them breakfast clubs and everything and after each statement he heard a mighty cheer and the tribe raised there spears and banged on their shields and shouted in unison "Umbala!, Umbala!"

He was over the moon at the reception his speech received and turned to his interpreter  and said " That went down well - but what does umbala mean?"

The interpreter said "When you go back don't go through that field its full cowpats and you will be up to your neck in umbala"

He's Failing

Just had Morrisons delivery. Did not realise how weak I had become. The deliveryman was a girl in her early 20's and slight of build. I had ordered 6 bottles of wine and a load of frozen stuff.

She handed the tray over to me and it was all I could do to pretend casual competence as I nonchelantly strolled inside with it my poor thin little wrists threatening to snap at any moment. I think I made it although when I handed back the tray I fancied I glimpsed the faintest hint of contempt in her smile.

Modern Life

Modern life is bloody awful - nothing works, nobody does anything. businesses are unreachable , proliferating ai employees are retarded.

Police are social workers , the law itself is an ass. Kier Starmer is ahead of his time we are all rushing headline towards

this figuehead moron.

Solepstistical

I look at my hands. Notice nails are growing . Used to bite them. Stupid thing to have done . The novel pleasure I get from scratching and picking up small fallen objects like a toothpick or a valueless coin of the realm......
Still no news of Zonfeld. (Thought in the accent of Richard Burton)
Changed the name rather stupidly really if there actually is nothing outside.
But is there?