Neows (news) from Moscow.

room in-between

Somebody has offered me a cat.

You have a cat.

I have two.

Two’s enough.

I used to have six.

That’s a lot of cat.

I like cats; I wouldn’t mind being one.

Do you eat mice?

Mine eat chocolate.

It will kill them.

They wouldn’t eat it if it were bad for them.

Curiosity killed the cat.

Not yet.

Who is this ‘offered’ cat?

Barisa. She’s Russian.

How do you know?

She lives in Moscow; she’s a street cat.

You’ve been offered a street cat that’s in Moscow?

By a trapeze artist.

You’re in France! Where’s this trapeze artist?

In Moscow.

A trapeze artist in Moscow has offered you, who are in France, a Moscownian street cat called Barisa.

By e-mail.

What did you say?

Drop her in.   ('editorial link F)

Enter Maggie McNally, stage left.

are you Pidge?

Hey, have you got a pen?

Why?

I need you to make a note of something.

I’ve got a lot of pens (editorial note t), just none to hand right now and anyway, my pyjamas are on inside out.

Is that relevant?

Relevant?! I think it’s why my dreams were so weird last night.

What’s this got to do with me needing a pen?

You talk, I talk – that’s how ‘this’(editorial note t) works.

Hang on, how are you doing this if you don’t have a pen?

I might have a pencil.

Have you?

Yes.

Here ?

No.

So?

I’m using my lap top.

So could you note this down before I forget? Two names- Razzi Tuffano and Pidge Boffer.

Noted.

Thank you. Hang on .. there are two more……. I turned the page – Raymond Scallione and Joe Bacuzzi.

Pidge Boffer’s the one surely.

Him or Razzi.

Do you think Razzi Tuffano and Raymond Scallione know each other?

There was a right spaghetti of a chance back in the Fifties that they did; they are standing next to each other in this photo.

Ah, the Fifties, a golden age.

When spaghetti was spaghetti.

And Maggie McNally was Maggie McNally. (Editorial note F)

Anchored to a post.

 reggae reggae sauce on the editorial desk

Fifty-six. (Editorial Note F -Modus Opurundi)

Have we discussed such things already?

I’m not sure, I feel like we have but was it here or just at the editorial desk?

There’s an editorial desk?

There has to be.

Why?

There’s an editorial team, they have to have a desk. No team is worth it’s salt without a desk.

We had better check then.

And how do you propose to do that?

We could cast our minds back.

We might loose them.

We could tie one end of our thoughts to a post before we cast.

How about this one?

Ok.

A disorganised mess of abandoned beauty.

sometimes known as....

It’s time we had a look at this desk. (editorial note t)

When you say ‘look at’, do you in fact mean ‘sort the mess out’?

Are you saying it’s messy?

Aren’t you?

Well, I think of it more as ‘creative’.

As in disorganised?

Isn’t there a theory about creativity through disorganisation?

I think there is, but you will need to be organised to check that.

Ok, let’s just look at the desk.

What’s that, it looks like a pack of cards?

It’s a pack of cards.

Not like any I’ve seen before.

True.

And?

They’re special.

Why are they there?

Long story.

Give me the short one.

Normally in the drawer, Daughter comes home says: ‘Tom wants to know if you’ve got any rares’?

Have you?

Yes. So I gave him one, Thieve’s Auction, and then I thought I’ll set the deck up in case he drops in and wants a game.

Who’s Tom?

Not sure, but he lives near Gaillac.

Let’s put them back in the drawer.

Done.

That’s the book you’ve just finished (editorial note t) and it’s ontop of the one you have just started. Surely that’s the wrong way round?

Probably.

Let’s put one on the steps and one, er – what do you want to do with this one that you just finished?

Can I keep it on the desk?

Why?

I might want to copy some more quotes.

There’s not a lot of room.

We could move that.

My socks?

Are they clean?

A bit.

Put them in your running shoes.

Ok. Done. What are these?

Those waxy bits of paper that oranges and clementines sometimes get wrapped in. I collect them.

You collect them?

Yeaah, they’re beautiful. And unnecessary. I’m a collector of unnecessary beauty.

What else do you collect?

Drink stirrers, London Tube maps, bottle tops (editorial note t), corks, stamps, fish and chip shop paper bags.

Fish and chip shop paper bags? How many have you got?

Three. It’s an embryonic collection.

Embryonic unnecessary beauty. No wonder this desk is a mess. Do these waxy beauties have another home?

They have a File.

Let’s put them there.

And a book.

Either.

Done.

That’s your timetable; put it in your pocket.

Done.

Another book!

I like books.

You should get a Kindle.

I like books.

If that’s the one that you’ve just finished, and that’s the one you’re reading at the moment… which is this?

The one I’m cutting illustrations out of.

Eh?

I’m starting a shop.

A shop?

An online shop.

Of what?

Interesting and ultimately unnecessary yet discarded beauty.

What’s the shop called?.

Something like ‘at the bottom of the box’ but I can’t remember, I’ll let you know when I open the digital doors.

So where can we put this?

On the pile of discarded beauty.

Where’s that?

Well some is over there at the foot of the stairs.

Good.

Or there on top of the old computer that’s full of stuff that should be up in the waterfall of the archives. (editorial note t)

Ok.

And some is there on the floor in front of the cupboard.

Whatever.

Done.

Rubish, rubbish, chuck, chuck.

Hang on!

It’s rubbish.

No it’s not, it’s a plan.

It’s a lot of red written words all jumbled up on a piece of paper.

It’s a post.

A post?

For the blog, next year.

What are you talking about.

It represents a journey.

I don’t get it.

You will. Next year. (Editorial note F).

What was THAT?

An Editorial Note F.

We’ve not had one of them before.

It’s the first!

What does it mean?

It’s a future link, so it’s not a link yet, but it will be once the post is posted which will be sometime next year, probably in February.

That’s insane.

That’s BitsnBobs.