The lockdown blog: day 24

 THIS IS NOW....A not so bold observation perhaps, but also the theme of an art competition which I have successfully enticed child A into entering. At first she was reluctant, "I'll never win"-- as she sulkily fished around for my praise (which I lavished). I am proud to say that she conceded and we have begun work on our entry. Soon after starting she made a 360 degree recovery in attitude. She now looks at me conspiratorially while whispering  confidently into the Papier-mâché, "we're gonna win this". I should probably say to her something along the lines of "it's not about winning but taking part", but really, I've got my eye on the prize too and heartily encourage this enthusiasm. It's also a project which will see me into two days of minding without having to resort to her favourite 'X-factor' whereby, on bad days I am made to sing and, on good days, must judge and comment on her various performances in my best Essex accent. She is invariably from Newcastle and the songs "mean a lot" to her. She has the emotion down pat. It is top class satire and I take my hat off to her. That doesn't mean she gets through though. I know my Simon Cowell. 

Competitions aside, I have finally made progress on eating my way through the organic vegetable box collected last saturday. Roasting in the oven, I have Jerusalem artichoke and carrot. They are doused in olive oil, sea salt and caraway seed and I shall lay them to rest on a bed of green lentils with pillows of feta. Damn she's good. It's all about encouragement I find, so lay it on--I can handle it. 

For now, inspired by Brian Dillon's book Suppose a sentence in which he meditates on sentences he is drawn to from books I'm supposing he has read, I shall leave you with a sentence that I was drawn to: 

"I ask starch 1950's BBC questions, and the prince returns beautifully folded and politely delivered answers of such perfumed blandness that they evaporate before reaching the memory" 

This sentence, of course, does the very opposite of what it describes. I find it firmly imprinted in my memory. It was penned by the inimitable A.A. Gill in a piece he wrote on Bhutan about a time when he interviewed the small country's prince. 
The lucky divil'--paid to visit the last 'shangri-la' and with an ability to write something of such colourful evocation that it cannot but be remembered.
Suppose you leave me with a sentence? 

xoxo seeking sentences 
 



Comments

  1. Drniallmoore@aol.comJanuary 26, 2021 at 11:42 PM

    Ah Pheebs yis are a bloomin’ jenius! (Spelt the Trump supporter way😝) Will dat do?

    ReplyDelete

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