November 1st, 2007


We have two hanging lights in the kitchen- both with aluminium shades. This morning I find they have families of very small flies attached to them. There are six in one family and four in the other. The flies zig-zag and spiral beneath the shade-  or cling upside down to its rim. They're doing this even though the lights haven't been on since last night. I wonder if they're babies and the lights are- as it were- their maternity ward and nursery.  I've got to say I don't know much about flies.

No-one came to  the door last night. I put this down to our street being two thirds Asian. But I did get trick or treated. I was putting the recycling bin out on the street and two cute little kids in costume tagged me. The little boy was some sort of cartoon animal and his older sister was wearing horns. They were accompanied by their mother and probably en route to a party because they weren't knocking doors. I don't keep sweets so I gave them 10p each.

I spent my Halloween watching the last instalment of the Most Haunted Live special. The team were in Mold, North Wales. Silly Carl and silly Stuart owned up to having done a "dark arts" ritual earlier in the day to attract the oogli-booglies. My, but David Wells was cross with them! I was thinking in bed afterwards about how unglamorous these people are. Yvette is pretty (and tough, tough, tough), David is sweet and Keiran has a shambling, geeky charm, but otherwise it's a gathering of  dumbclucks. Karl is sulky and has this boyish bravado thing going on, Stu is his faithful hound, Kath is dumpy and never cracks a smile and the technicians- whose presence is never disguised and who regularly get drawn into the action- are all just regular, down-the-pub sort of blokes.  It's like Yvette had recruited from her family, friends and neighbours (which isn't, I believe, all that far from the truth). This must be one of the few shows of its kind which isn't staffed with ready-made celebs. It has run for 8 seasons now but still feels amateurish and home-made. Maybe that's why I can forgive it so much.

Twilight On The Field Of Reeds

All the poems I've ever posted on LJ are now collected in the Memories file. To celebrate here's an addition to their number- 



The old Egyptians are winking out

On the astral- so my informant claims.

Her theory is they rely on us

Thinking about them, speaking their names

To raise the psychic energies

That keep them in the Field of Reeds,

But now our input is dropping off

Which makes her sad because she’s a fan

Of theirs and on the way to becoming

An adept in Egyptian magic.

Me, I’m much less sympathetic.

Haven’t they had their money’s worth,

I ask, of feasts and dancing girls

And all the things you see them doing

In murals- shooting ducks for instance

Or spearing hippopotami?

Isn’t it time they got in touch

With how things are back here on earth

Where all that stiff, hieratic grace

No longer cuts it, but (thank heaven)

Artificial hips are in

And dental care is a lot improved?

You’ve rested up, so come on,  guys,

Go get yourselves an incarnation.