I’m in no mood for writing I’m afraid, because I have had one of those terrible nights. I went to bed at 10.30 in order to wake refreshed enough to cope with my grandson, who was staying the night. At 12.30 I woke with a cracking headache, having, I realised, eaten some soup the night before into which I’d sloshed some rather ancient red wine. After four Nurofen Plus I managed to sleep only to be woken, at 3 am, in a terrible panicky sweat, full of ghastly imaginings. What if a maniac had crept through the window and gouged my grandson’s eyes out? What if I went up in the morning and simply found, a la McCann, that his bed was empty? What was the meaning of life since I was going to die anyway? Was there really any reason I’d been born?
Continue reading ‘Grannie Annexe January 2008′
Archive for January, 2008
Oldie December
Old, single ladies are traditionally associated with the keeping of cats, and I often have to stifle a yawn as my friends drone on about the antics of their tedious furry friends. However, it’s their turn to yawn now as I have become obsessed with a pigeon.
It is no ordinary pigeon. It is something called a Fancy Pigeon, a wonderful white creature with a bursting chest, a shimmering purple patch on its neck, a preposterous sprouting of white crest on the back of its head and an anonymous green tag on its leg. He is, clearly, lost, he sits on my window day and night and poos regularly onto my conservatory roof. Every so often I have to rush out to ward off neighbouring cats. I feed him corn, and I seem to be lumbered with him. He loves human contact and when I come into the room, he turns one eye to me and shimmers at me through the window (what is the other eye doing, I keep wondering?) But what the hell am I to do with him? Is he too cold, these freezing nights? Does he need the company of other birds? How long (ahem), do pigeons live? I don’t know anything about Fancy Pigeons. Can anyone out there help me?
Continue reading ‘Grannie Annexe December 2007′