Nose ointment

Enjoyed chatting with Pat and Maureen this morning, when Lorraine was off doing rhyme time. Maureen was talking about her next door neighbours, one of them she called 'nose ointment' drove with her husband to Seaford, to find out where they were moving. Laughing about 'nose ointment' all day, which apparently has cockney roots, but one I'd never heard. Why ointment? Maureen can't wait to move to Seaford, and it's looking like they might be able to do it next week. Lorraine, being a star. Pat and Maureen lurking outside in the garden lots.

I fiddled with a big new memory poem, went to the gym this afternoon and finished The Uncanny this evening. Freud's weird and wonderful essay about DaVinci I'd saved for last. Quite remarkable and well written, even if it seems to me to be a bit wrong headed at times and takes a few wild intuitive leaps, one based on the symbol of a vulture as mother, as Leonardo had a fantasy with a vulture in it, which Freud went to town on. Turns out, I read elsewhere, that Leonardo had been talking about a species of kite.

 Cooked with Lorraine, half watched TV with Pat and Maureen. All well. 

Pat and Maureen relaxing outside. Maureen holding a leg of a doll.