The intertidal zone

This can happen: you find yourself up on a stool tonging moss from crevices in the aluminium windows, and I’m talking inside the house.

It’s in the order of nose-picking — wrong and thrilling at the same time.

Fired by that novel experience, I got out the sewing machine to hem the new bed cover. The man of the house strolled by on his way to the kettle. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Just out of curiosity, would it ever occur to you to replace shabby curtains or … hem a bedspread?’

Blink, blink. ‘No.’

‘What if you lived on your own?’

‘Well, sooner or later I suppose I’d have to compromise.’ (His peccable aesthetic, I presume.)

‘What do you mean?”

‘I’d get new curtains.’

‘How would you, exactly?

‘Um. I’d measure up the gap and go to the drapery. Do they have those? Or Spotlight. And I’d tell the women the measurements.’

‘Yes?’

‘And I’d bring the material home … and weep over it.’

Bududuudududududud (sewing machine ) ‘Oh.’

‘No, actually, I’d probably end up nailing it to the ceiling.’

Bududududdddddddeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr

He seized the base of the disintegrated log basket and thrust it into the fire.

She urged him to move over so she could also watch the woven cane blacken in the flames, then she ran for the camera.

He remonstrated with her as she opened the  door and fire roared back from the gust of air: We don’t want a chimney fire.

She laughed.

He said, Don’t be stupid. You’ll melt the camera.

She said, Melt, schmelt. and took another photo.

He slammed the door on the flames.

She went off to download her photos, and  two days later turned life into art with a small a.

Photo by Sophie H.

Northeasterly rain: the wet, persistent, three-day kind. I’ve strung the washing up under the house, wiped the windows off for the second time, split some firewood, and huddled up to the wood burner; even the fire slouches along in this weather.

I wouldn’t mind something to snack on — something reminiscent of warmer days — so I’ve checked through the i-photo cake tins and come up with … Oriental lily anthers, dredged in pollen, to be chomped down with a glass of fresh rain water.