MISTLETOE

The 17th to the 27th December marked the time my son was in Intensive Care following a [fatal] dose of my ex-wife’s medication. This was the year [7th] when the days coincided with the dates, which somehow made it harder to bear than in recent years. Still, even amidst the misery, life often contrives to provide a light-hearted moment or two … … They were waiting: they knew my routine well – first a visit to the Newsagent’s for my morning papers then to the Bakery next door for my small loaf [cut thick sliced] and a bacon barm-cake. The bakery girls [though that might be stretching the term a little] stood in a line near the counter exit, their eyes fixed on a spot in the ceiling just above my head. Mistletoe! “Gotcha!” grinned Brenda, slapping a vigourous kiss on my lips and half squeezing the life out of me. Janey was next with a prim shy peck on the lips and a pat on the back such as you’d give to a small child. Melanie completed the rout with a full-on long lasting sloppy smacker – more for the benefit of cheers from the small but enthusiastic queue of customers than for me I’m sure. This is usually the way with mistletoe kisses – an expression of affection, a traditional marking of the occasion, or a simple bit of honest harmless fun. Usually … but not always. Mike "not all matterings of mind equal one violet" ~ e e cummings ~

Thanks Keith After a very bad year healthwise [including a couple of serious pneumonia bouts and a rather long-lasting Bell's Palsy] I'm just beginning to write again. It's slow, but I'm getting there! Mike "not all matterings of mind equal one violet" ~ e e cummings ~