Wednesday, 28 June 2017

St Freidus and the Rastaman

the gallery/a detail

G’morning! You’re up early.

I couldn’t sleep.

How come?

You were inside?

Driven in.



Talking of the Bible, Peter popped in.

He of the rock?

Peter of the High Serre.

Ooooh, I’m honoured, did you lay on the official welcome tea and toast?

We only had marshmallows.

That’s a strange word isn’t it, marshmallows?

It’s a strange world.

It certainly is….


….because only yesterday I was by the river and I bumped into River!

Did you say hello from me?

Your name didn’t come up.

Really, did anyone’s?

Freedus. Saint Freedus.

Hang on, I need to look him up…. Look, look, look….. I might be spelling his name, hang on…. look, ah! Freidus! No, wait a moment….this is Robert Freidus, he might be a writer.

What is your source?

sOurce! Not sauce.

Sorry, er, a blog – all the saints you should know, BODIES, BONES, RELICS, LORE AND ODDITIES FROM THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.

Why the sudden capitals?

You copied and pasted!

I did.

Lazyness killeth the blog.

Bad spelling two.

Hee, hee, he.

Couldn’t resist it – where were we?

Saint Freidus.

He SAID he was a saint. He had a map.

That proves only that he was lost.

Or looking for the way.

Jesus said ‘I am the way’.

How would you know?

Jesus wrote a book?

The bible.

He never did.

Did too.



What’s the point?

Tuesday, 27 June 2017

Jimmy and the Gallery.

the garden/yesterday

I’ve been looking back over the year’s posts..

I can’t pay you any more than I do already.

More? You don’t pay me anything!

That’s agreed then- good.

Hang on - is this the mid-summer pay review?


It’s over?

We just agreed.

Can we start again?

Next year, now what did you want to tell me?

Significant details; we said that this year would be the year of significant detail.

We said that?

So it is, that’s quite significant.

Yes it is, and I want to know if it is also significant that there have been several mentions of ‘The Gallery’?

The Gallery? With inverted commas?

With or without – it was mentioned here, there’s a photo pertaining thereto here, and here.

It seems I have bought a gallery.

You have a gallery?

Well, I bought a painting and the gallery came with.

‘Thereto’, ‘camewith’ – what is this, Dickens?

T’was you that said ‘thereto’, not me. Not Dickens either if it comes to that.

You’re not making a lot of sense.

Ah, well it all starts in Australia.

Go on.


He came from Ireland.

To Australia?

To France. He owns the Gallery.

Your Gallery?

Sort of.

Why do you need a gallery?

Because of the t-shirts.

Which t-shirts?

There’s one in Tunbridge Wells.

The gallery is in Tunbridge Wells?

No, it’s in France.

You bought a gallery in France for a t-shirt in Tunbridge Wells?

No, I bought a painting.

A painting of a t-shirt?

A rose.

That’s clear. Who’s the painter?


Where is this painting?

I’m not sure. It was at the foot of the main stairs.

And now?

Possibly wrapped in bubble wrap in The Mill.

There’s a mill?

Gary owns a mill. But there’s a problem because water, and maybe fish, are coming through the wall. The painting may be floating on the stream.

What’s he going to do?

Someone suggested he find a way to plug the hole with the fish, in such a way that the fish are happy about it.

What fish would be happy with that?

I think you have to say ‘which fish’.

What fish, which fish – makes me think of Watford.

Which makes ME think of Elton John.





Spike Milligan.

The Goons.

My Mum.


Monday, 26 June 2017

The Hexagon of Somewhere.

the table outside/today

That was a good party!

I liked the chicken curry!

What about the raspberry cream thing?

I had three pieces – I couldn’t dance.

There was a jukebox.

I know! I chose The Kinks – You Really got me.

 Classic, did you see how it got the youngsters swirling their petticoats.

Petticoats! I’ve missed them!

I liked your outfit.

Why thank you, I made an effort but I can’t get this gel out of my hair, I think it had passed its expiry date.

I thought the fifties had.

Apparently not - and talking of the fifties what about the sixties?

Ferlinghetti. Ginsberg. Kerouac.

I think Kerouac might have been fifties.

We can look that up, but hey I wonder if he was then when you lasted visited.

He could have been, small world eh?

I think it’s huge, I’m thinking of going to Iceland if this heat continues and have you ever met anyone who’s visited Tasmania?

Talking of Australia, did you know that Gary can throw a boomerang?

Anyone can THROW a boomerang; it’s getting it to come back that’s the issue.

And did you know that traditionally speaking women can’t play the didgeridoo?

Seems harsh.

And why is the grammar check questioning that ‘can’t’?

Maybe it thinks it’s sexist.

I dug up a fern this morning.

Changing the subject?

Moving it along.

So we’re not at the party anymore?

They’ll be another.

There’s one this weekend.

I can’t go.


You hate them.

It’s a duty, one I signed up to when I became a dad. Oh by the way, whilst we are on the subject of Glastonbury.

Were we?

I got a phone call from the field.

That’s sweet.

I was really touched; he asked me to explain Motorhead.

Could you.

Not me.

What’s your abiding memory of Glastonbury?

Probably the sauna, maybe Joe Cocker’s breath condensing in the damp air as he sang, maybe those mushrooms.

They were strong.

You wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for them.

How come?

Critical division moment.

There is a certain irony in the fact that you can watch it on TV these days.

The first time I went there, there was a guy in the open field sitting at the end of a long white piece of fabric staring at a TV set placed inappropriately far away at the other.

Performance art?

A statement.

There was a cloud that formed six horizontal lines in the sky too.

The Hexagon of the Heavens; was that the same time?

Or just a line in a Joni Mitchell song?

Saturday, 24 June 2017

Out and About

writing room/gallery/last weekend

Where’ve you been?


I know that, but where?

I had to go to the city.

How was it?

Hot. You wouldn’t believe how hot. Imagine being in a sauna and cooking chips over red hot coals wearing a suit of armour.

Your sister popped by.

My sister.


She never pops by.

She did.

Did she leave a message?

She said she didn’t get it.

No one gets it; anything else?

She said you’re getting old.

Cheek! We’re ALL getting old. That’s it?

She asked who ‘him’ was.



Of course.

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