if you’ve been reading the gimcrack for a while you may remember Mrs. E, the patient who doesn’t recognise her own reflection in a mirror. after we removed the looking glass she created a new delusion for herself involving some welshmen, a couple of canadians and some camels armed with sabres. that necessitated a trip to a real asylum so the experts could get her psychosis under control.
on the whole they were pretty successful. she’s been reasonably calm since her return, but this afternoon Mrs E came to nursemyra’s office apologising for the interruption but would I please get someone to remove that naughty little girl from her room, she couldn’t be responsible for her anymore.
we head off to her room so I can see this naughty little girl for myself. “what’s she been doing?” I asked as we approached the door.
“she’s been having intercourse with all the boys she can find. you’ve never seen anything like it. non stop intercourse. I don’t know where she finds them…..”
“she doesn’t appear to be here” I say as we enter the room.
“nnnno… where can she…. wait a minute…” Mrs. E. pulls back the bedcovers. there are several balls of wool neatly lined up in a row near the foot of the bed. and two skeins of blue and green hopelssly tangled together up near the pillow.
“what did I tell you? she’ll have intercourse with anyone!”
what is a good nurse to do? “perhaps if I just take these things away. you’re right, it’s too much responsibility. will it be ok if I remove them?”
“I’d be ever so grateful” Mrs. E smiles sweetly and waves goodbye to the woolly tart and her entourage.
as the D.T. and I ponder the tangle of wool all sorts of thoughts are running through my brain. should my ’safer sex for geriatrics’ lecture be expanded to include haberdashery? what size condom would a skein need? the D.T interrupts my reverie. “I don’t think we’ll be able to donate this to the knitting group, it’s too knotty.”
that’s when I realise I’ve been anthropomorphisising an inanimate object which makes me only a step away from becoming an inmate myself. just promise me one thing, penfold. if I ever make it to portugal and we’re sharing a couple of beers, and I ask you to pull the wool over my eyes…… consider it a metaphor ok?
* apologies to The Eels
Not commenting today - laughing too much - sorry
laughing is still commenting
She might have been speaking in code - who knows what happened to the sheep that wool came from? Or maybe you should just give her some porn to watch.
Knotty wool. Very knotty indeed. *snort*
I fear that the combination of an NZ author, Wool and lots of intercourse leaves me weak with laughter.(Oops - now you will never talk to me again
As for the final illustration - I have often wondered, “Just what is a Flying F*ck?” - Now I know!
Quite a yarn, eh? Like archie, i’m struggling to find the sheep joke… but giggling too much.
I refer you to this: http://www.knitacondomamulet.com/
(in case you haven’t already discovered it).
“it’s too knotty”
Ha!
You really should consider rolling twenty or so of your stories into a novella, you’re far too funny to remain unpublished…..:-)
Of course I’m assuming that last part.
Well you’ve done it again…I have tears in my eyes from laughing. You are simply so dam* good it’s incredible!!:)
Of course then I would also be able to view this from the psychiatric point of view….since I am a patient:)
I will never be able to look at an innocent ball of wool in the same light ever again … tee hee
Laughing too much to remain lurking …
You’re a Beautiful Freak … take that as a slippery compliment …
Myra, can you use those to stuff one of your patients bras or something? Just don’t waste the wool
and a beloved monster…..
Wow, and I thought I had an imagination…
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