User:High Heels on Wet Pavement

I'm having such a lazy Summer. It's lovely. Having made a little haven outside my front door (which is at the side of my house), but now, being in a position to finish it off with gravel or pebbles, and screening, I find I'm scuppered by rain. This could be bad, but I'm so damned happy these days I find it to be a nice excuse to do very lttle. So here I sit by my huge kitchen window, keeping an eye on my children as they cycle around in their little blue coats outside, surfing the net, eating croissants with Bonne Maman red cherry conserve (one of my few dietary vices) and drinking gorgeous rich dark hot coffee from my pretty little cafetiere, and friends come and go. I have the final third of a great book to read; several writing commissions to complete; the prospect of trips to Paris, London, Barcelona and Edinburgh ahead of me over the next month; wonderful, interesting and trustworthy friends; I have love and comfort and beauty in my life, and enough responsibility and natural altruism to prevent me from becoming utterly selfish. I read this old poem/post from my private blog today and it actually made me laugh aloud, so I'm dragging it out again into the light: which is what I do in my garden when I uproot weeds, so that sunlight kills the roots off once and for all:

Writing poetry is a beautiful, therapeutic thing. Here is a touching ode, the writing of which a few months ago, marked the end of an unhealthy period of my life. I am deliberately leaving it in a poor state - unpolished and not scanning or rhyming - in honour of the man who is the subject of the poem, who writes crap and expects women to come along and fix it for him for no pay and without actually mentioning that it is, indeed, cack.

Something GOOD Goes Here???

For such a big boy You were surprisingly limp And you limp from woman to woman, a bell round your neck, Whimpering help meeeeeeeeeee, I’m being pursued by all these women, what do they all want with a stud like meeeeee?

They wanted a man. And a share of their own food, Safe sex and faithfulness as a bare minimum (no pun intended, having some b*****d risk your life is no joke) But you guzzled all the cookies And told them you were Very Good, because-

Well just because you are Good, a God Amongst Men- So why have you got No REAL friendships then? It’s lonely at the top, the throne on which you sit? Your peers were correct; You really are Such a t*t.

But you showed them all your “friend”’s emails anyway, didn’t you darling. (OOPS! NOT SUPPOSED TO MENTION THAT ARE WE??? Half your town have seen her bits… )

I meant to ask, but out of misplaced pity never did - When you saw that c**t in close-up On your daddy’s files, How long did you have the wood before You noticed It was your mummy’s smile Beaming down?

And who is babysitting you now dear? I envisage you in Egypt, in the shadow of the Great Wonders of the World, (The Pyramids, that is, not your poor friend’s massive tits) Hushing the tourists up As you try to edit Wikipedia (in your mind, in uniform,) against the hot glare of the sun, While everybody worships you Because Well because You’re just SO SO GOOD. (Only, you’re not. You’re just so-so. But you knew that all along didn’t you?)

Sooo... "will you sit for me smoking weed, to turn me on?" No "Officer"(!!!), THAT could get YOU in a WHOLE LOT OF TROUBLE.

I felt so much better for having got all that off my chest.