Experimenting

[Diary Notes] 

................................................Fairy

Carefully soaking my latest skin wound in bicarbonate of soda

and Epsom salt, then applying honey - not the expensive type

bought in the pharmacy, but the irradiated kind: having a wound

is always a badge of honour, caused by scraping my leg against

the iron coffee table leg and watchful against rusting iron, honey

and bicarbonate are my first line of defence: oh, there are many

ointments in the first aid kit - but I don’t know which is which and

experimenting is so much more exciting, remembering Peter Pan

using a plastic bag over his crushed toe I also tied a plastic bag

over my wound and hide my handiwork carefully as the Lord and

Master of the Crocodile Castle hate unconventional ideas, would

freak out if he saw mine while I delight in trying new things, let’s

hope the wound heals without a scar so everything can be be

hunky-dory in my little paradise…

Due to ESKOM’s kind interference there is no hot water for washing

the dishes and the kitchen is a pigsty which breaks my heart when I

regard it, the ants have also moved in and the wind is cold, the sun

can’t get in yet - yesterday I delighted in the soft caress of the wind

on my face while fleeing the sun’s hot rays which burned like lava

streams on my legs - right now the wind and I are teaming up against

our friend the sun as he is really turning into an Ogre destroying us

with his heat, the thought of the sun’s overpowering might makes

me break out in a sweat...

Today I’m using Many World Theory to justify the fantasy enabling me

to enjoy life, I can’t tell anyone as Many World also creates space for

the possibility that someone might read my dairy note and then laugh

uproariously - and if they know me and laugh openly - I would have to

commit hara kiri, I need the storyline to recreate my life which always

seems too small and boring for words, there is so much I dream about

and nowhere on earth to realise these and as long as no-one can read

my mind, I live the character’s life going underground, and I don’t care

where inspiration comes from - today Vilja Song is providing much

needed impetus to help the storyline evolve…

But the sun is flexing his muscles in the sunroom and claustrophobia

destroys the ambience of the story I’m concocting, the wind's calling

me to the front porch and I have to take laptop, its stand and construct

my own refuge in blue where it is cool, the problem with heat must be

due to my being a DiscWorld troll with a silicon brain which overheats

in normal temperatures and there must have been a vampire among

my forbears which makes me flee when the sun touches my hatless

head, it is a good thing - my dad always wore a hat and never had

problems while my uncle swore to never wear one & had to contend

with melanoma; though I love the sun’s beauty I never approach him

without proper respect, hat or cap with a scarf to recreate the French

Foreign League desert appearance, changing character by adding a

hat confuses my stories and once in the CBD I went outside with a

blanket wound around me - it was freezing - it became a karos such

as that worn by the characters in Dwaalstories of Eugene N Marais

and I became Klein-Riet, but when I got back to the office, removing

the karos changed me back into the Rain Queen…

Reading that the Russian grandmother of my children’s book heroine

took her to the library, I remember my grandma bought the Reader’s

Digest and their condensed books which introduced me to Beau Geste,

The Great Impersonation, Tom Sawyer & Shangri-La - filling the huge

emptiness left by my dad’s Whodunnit book-club and my mother’s old

WWI English Encyclopedia which still taught the universe only consisted

of the Milky Way - and Langenhoven’s Assembled Works - there never

was enough books to read & the World’s Best Fairytales made up for it