Tag: 366

7th June –  A black cat crossed my street.  The late afternoon winter sun created a monster-cat shadow which got me up off my chair to see if it was being followed by a large dog.  It wasn’t.

8th June – Sat at the table in a student’s home and quickly stuck to the seat in several places.  Put my books on the table;  they also stuck.  I told my 9 year-old friend about the problem;  she confessed it was maple syrup.

9th June – I’ve noticed that since I started blogging, I’ve stopped talking much.

10th June – Found out the previous owner of our new second-hand car was Lego.

11th June – On The Voice, the TV singing talent show, the coaches frequently say “I love you” to their protégés, who sometimes reply, “I love you, too”.  This love is a new fashion.

2nd June –  My daughter-in-law, dressed as Madeline from the book by Ludwig Bemelmans, dropped in after work.  She works in a bookshop.

3rd June – Heard a woman on the news complaining of child care centre costs, saying it costs almost as much as she earns but she keeps working, anyway, so she doesn’t lose her skills.  But if she raised her own child she would gain great mothering skills.

4th June – An academic who said he doesn’t read people’s blogs responded to my arm-twisting today to read two paragraphs from one of my posts.  Only two.

5th June – The dog in the tiny yard opposite my place chases his tail all day, round and round, drilling circles in the dirt (mud today).

6th June – With my head in a rack of coats in a clothes shop, I heard a customer say she needed to change a top for a bigger size because the one she bought was “a bit snug around the middle”.  The shop owner said, “‘Must be all that meat”.  I thought, wow, that was a bit rude!  Then I turned and saw that the customer was the lady butcher from a few shops away.

18th May – Just received an email telling me how much the sender is grateful for my friendship and that good things will happen if I send it to ten more people.  But there’s more;  I am promised that at 10.35 am tomorrow I’ll hear something I’ve been waiting to hear.

19th May – At 10.35 am I was teaching a girl who can’t read much.  I didn’t hear what I’ve been waiting to hear;  she still can’t read much.  This false prophecy had an unusual effect on me:  though I looked at the email only once, the exact time prediction played on my brain like an irritating jingle.

20th May – A woman in the Housing flats had her partner evicted by police and is now picking up all the beer cans and rubbish in the yard.

21st May – In the black of night I was driving out of a large country property when the tall wrought-iron gates automatically began closing towards me.  I waited a few seconds, then they opened.

22nd May – Waited at traffic lights behind a painted hippy holiday van with the message ‘Beer makes you see double, makes you feel single’.

8th May – The waning Super Moon was super yellow tonight.

9th May – The two cafés at the local shops are both owned by Greeks.  I asked the owner of one if he was related to the owner of the other, and he said, ‘Yes, he’s the godfather of my children and I’m the godfather of his children’.  I tried to get him to confirm they aren’t from the same family, but he wouldn’t really agree.  I saw that he had redefined family for me.

10th May – This week I’ve been feeling really confident about my car because it’s French.  Today its engine died.

11th May – Home alone.  Studied two novels set in monasteries and two documentaries about the unchanging rhythm and solitude of monastic life.

12th May – Drove a car today that has no hand brake.  But it has a button.  A finger brake.

28th Apr – An 8-year-old dyslexic pupil says she thinks in pictures when asked to spell a word.  I’ll have to find a way to turn sight words into pictures!

29th Apr – Just witnessed two angry young boys fist-fighting on the street. Their cool, calm mother brought them together, saying “Now, Matthew and Oliver, you must never hit each other.”  When she moved away they flew together, slapping and yelling.

30th Apr – Tutored a boy at a desk placed between a mirrored wall and uncurtained glass doors.  At the same moment, though facing in opposite directions, we both saw the clouds part and reveal a brilliant orange sunset.

1st May – A large black dog stood at the automatic doors of the grocery store, preventing them from closing, until his master had finished shopping.

2nd May – A few minutes before midnight, I translated a passage about a man locked in a room who heard a clock strike midnight followed by the sound of quiet steps approaching him.  He could see no one, but when he looked around, his door was open.