The Island Atelier

Not chopping logs & the food chain

At last! Glorious News about K’s wicked employers at the deli. They have gotten a small portion of their just desserts. They arrived at the deli one morning last week to find their dessert counter a desert. B had eaten the lot. B had worked at the deli for 18 months. He had worked his socks off alongside K and received the same terrible treatment. B finally flipped. He went out and got extremely drunk, then he went into the deli in the middle of the night (with keys) and ate everything. What he could not eat, he threw in the bin. Much missed the bin so there was an impressive mess. And then he passed out on the floor. An admirable way to get fired. Well done B! 

O went off to the Lake District for his week of Survival Exercise. His toothbrush stayed home. O survived. Not sure about his teeth. Not sure about anything else either. The Arctic sleeping bag is still hung over a door to air. The air upstairs is rancid. A bitter stench of dead dog fighting with Ted Baker shower gel. A full container of toxic washing chemical exploded in O’s school bag. With Biology, Philosophy and Classical Civilization books steeped in perfume, O should end up with three AS levels in Ted Baker. I will just end up with a bin full of disintegrated banana chips. For that is what I’m picking from inaccessible cavities of O’s mega back pack every time the kettle boils. 

This week my parents celebrate their Diamond Wedding anniversary. My father is taking my mother to a lowly local café for lunch. It’s their favourite place. We will celebrate at a later date: at a date when my father is back to chopping logs. Until he can chop logs, he is resolutely Not Well. “It’s now 14 weeks…” he complains. “Yup. Only 14 weeks since major open heart surgery,” my mother and I, the surgeon and their village retort. He is now driving, hoovering, gardening, lugging shopping and going to the gym. But Not Chopping Logs. 

A yellow warning light has appeared on dashboard of car. It looks exactly like a hand grenade. Is it an outgoing hand grenade or one coming in my direction? 

The fish in the pond have eaten all the tadpoles. A large black cat his eyes on the fish. I have my eyes on the large black cat. Since returning from Lakes O has eaten 4 chickens and everything in both fridges and both freezers. Along with 22 pints of milk. He’s been home less than a week. This is called The Food Chain. Tomorrow I need to earn Tescos. And go to Tescos.


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