Modern Painters To The Rescue

I went to bed furious with my mother for taking us for granted-  and after half an hour of fuming and fretting and going over the same arguments again and again  I thought ,"This won't do. I'll never get to sleep like this." So I made a decision to think about modern painters instead- about what a shit Lucian Freud was and how versatile David Hockney is- and I calmed down immediately and dropped off within minutes.

At Least This Time It Wasn't One Of My Mother's

This afternoon I broke another chair. That makes it three this year. We were in a coffee shop in Allington.  The chair had metal legs screwed to a wooden seat. I shifted my position a little and instead of offering resistance the seat went with me. Did I hear a very faint scrunch? I wasn't sure.  I shifted cautiously to the left and again the seat seemed to move,  then cautiously to the right and there was a rending sound and I was sitting on the floor.