Monthly Archives: January 2011

Virginia Woolf’s Eyesore of a Tree

I try not to look out my kitchen window.  The sight which once gave pleasure now pains me.  It is that of Virginia Woolf’s tree under whose shade she once sat in her garden.  It was a sycamore with a … Continue reading

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Fling no longer

I suppose I should say something, on this blog, not on the other, though what can one say?  I’ve never gone in for quantitative sex, being more interested in understanding it.  I suppose I do and there’s nothing more for … Continue reading

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‘Look what they’ve done to my tree, ma.’

Seriously, see what they’ve done to Virginia Woolf’s tree. “You’re demolishing Virginia Woolf’s tree!  Philistines,” I shouted, not that I expected any protest of mine to stop them since they were being employed to do it and my intervention might … Continue reading

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Love letter from prison

The letter begins: my darling John, I love u.  That ‘u’ put me off and I remained unmoved throughout its two pages, probably because the sexual feeling I felt while he was here last time on day release was his, … Continue reading

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WG meeting Jan

Zarina, a newbie, came in while I was reading. Kevin missed the reading altogether, being late as usual, but took away a copy.  It involved Johnny’s getting his friend to solve the problem of how girls differed from boys since … Continue reading

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The Return of The Fling

I was tweeting when he accosted me.  He asked had I got his letter, from a prison in Sussex, Ford I presumed.  His ‘wife’ had stitched him up with her brothers’ cannabis to keep their Twickenham flat.  He got four … Continue reading

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The cough

In the middle of talking at Barbara’s I couldn’t help coughing.  No-one else was.  In the middle of dinner with Kate and John, I coughed.  She said I was unwell.  Adrian said I was losing weight!  The morning of going … Continue reading

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