My eyesight, says the optician, is alright. But sometime I misread signs with curious results. In the supermarket I see a sign which seems to announce "pocket soups", a surreal idea, which appeals to my intellect and even to my gastronomic preference, more than packet soups.
In the early morning the sounds of pigeons cooing greets me. They live in the line of leylandii which grow at the side of the vegetable garden, unloved and unwanted by me. It is a gentle soothing sound, but reminds me that I must attend to the netting and fleece, which I have spread over the purple sprouting broccoli, because there is nothing that pigeons like more than this vegetable, as soon as the heads appear in the Spring.
"I believe," says the novelist Nina Bawden in a feature called Credo in today's Independent on Sunday, "in keeping an open mind, in standing up for the weak, in being polite and kind to people, but not being too kind to people who don't deserve it, in considering that other people are as important as you are."
2 comments:
I like the idea of pocket soups. I have just finished Philip Norman's autobiography about growing up in the Isle of Wight, a moving and fascinating account of early 1950's mores. One thing he remembers asking a teacher was why does a very large destroyer have the designation "pocket battleship". He got the answer, "That is just a name."
it may be that you have the common problem imposed on us by nature when the retina evolved so that peripheral vision works faster, but in low definition
it was thus, from a train moving out of the station at bath spa many years ago, that i mis-read a religious poster that seemed to proclaim "jesus swerves !"
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