My almost first piece in my new spot

My almost first piece in my new spot ©

By Michael Casey

Well my new friend arrived with a parcel, a nice black guy, he could almost be the son of the other parcel guy. Both are happy souls. As for me I discovered that the Kitchen has the best wifi signal, so here I am sat at the kitchen table talking to you, with is convenient as it’s next to the toilet. My wife, had suggested I sit there but I resisted, but I thought I’d give it a try and not waste time while I’m waiting for my new desk. So there you have it, me sat on the toilet talking to you all, a writer does need paper after all. Well almost.

Am I thinking about my style, no not wiping style, can you all please move on, movements are over, lets just carry on at my convenience. I heard a noise so I’ve just checked the front door, I don’t want to miss my delivery after all, makes me sound like a Stork. Upstairs my big daughter sneezes twice, no cock crowing, just markers in Time. And isn’t Dr Who rubbish now, it’s written by a PC correct committee. Let’s have this, this and this to tick off all the PC markers. And just for fun let’s have fashion from a jumble sale.

Now where shall I go with this first piece from further up the hill? I could say the hill is so steep I could have a heart attack. I walked past a blind man with an Alsation guide dog and his friend said the hill was too steep for her, I joked I’d ride the guide dog to get up the hill. The PC correct crowd would say I’m being cruel to dogs and to the blind, and maybe even hills.

Now that nearly all my clothes are in the new house, I have to stow them all away. I did buy a cheap and cheerful chicken wire wardrobe, but it was too weak, so I discarded it. Luckily Polish Carol or is it Karol? Some song anyway, he found a rack from somewhere so I’ve ended up with that. I did keep the Shroud from the chicken house and have covered the rail with that. So I’m content. The chicken wire is at the bottom of the new garden for the squirrels to play with. Squirrels are easily pleased.

Totoro our cat was brought here to see her new home but decided to hide under a bed instead. So we took her back home, though home is a confusing word now. Home is where the heart is, or where you left your clean knickers, or the new house not the old house. But there will only be one house, one home once our soft move is over.

How Totoro will adapt will be interesting, at the old house she had 20 gardens back to back to roam in with trees galore. Here all the trees are further up the road, in a tree car park or woods if you want the official word. Here there are squirrels and foxes too. Though at the old house once I spotted 3 foxes in our garden at 3am at night. Totoro has been a killing machine too roaming her zone and leaving bodies on our back door step. A one girl Terminator, mice and so on. I imagine the local mice will be having a party as pussy is going to seek its fortune running up that hill, and yes Kate Bush better watch out.

Sound travels so far in the new house, less ambient noise, further away from the main road. Which means my Tinnitus annoys more, rather like my writing, you are all so cruel. Lech, Boris and Gregorgi  are due to pay me a visit, if you remember they are Polish, Ukrainian and Russian first cousins from where those 3 countries make love on the map. They want to make sure I’ll be ok there, they did say they’d leave bear traps littered around, I said I had a burglar alarm already. I had to remind them this is England, so they settled for putting a couple of photos of themselves with their hunting knives out, in my windows. With Love from your close friends, only a heartbeat away, the 3 of them smiling like that put’s the fear of God into me, so what any potential burglar will think is another matter.

So I hope you all like this piece from the kitchen table, I have to move now to make way for food. Dinner is about to be served, as my words don’t feed the stomach so I have to vacate the table. Andrew from the Daily Mail is popping in to try my new electric toaster, I said I had  some nice jam from the Co-op. Ok, I’m making that bit up, but everything I write happens, maybe I should say Trump resigns and takes a vow of Chastity and Modesty. Words do matter, and do change the world after all, maybe not mine, but who knows about the Future?