Being easily pleased and often bored I found the time to do one of those 'look up line whatever on page such and such and this will describe your sex life' boredom killers. The idea was to pick up the nearest book and turn to page 45 and the first sentence explains your love life. I suppose I could while away the hours reading tarot cards or getting someone else to read my star sign out to me just to alleviate the listlessness but being blessed with a life that means I am never far from a book was too tempting. The nearest read turned out to be one my sister tried to burn but was rescued by me from the bonfire she had built with the aim of reducing our dear mother's library. Being of the belief that one shouldn't burn books unless of course they were written by Sydney Sheldon, said book lives on and goes by the name of a Cottage on a Cliff by Derek Tangye. There was another one by him that didn't escape the flames called The Way to Minack and the last words I saw as it was engulfed went something on the lines of 'please give him this message......'. Cottage on a Cliff will never be read on account of the plot which resembles my own life, a life of 'getting away from it all' and the author being described as 'engaging' and 'reading his get-away-from-it-all stories will leave you longing for the great outdoors'. First sentence page 45 seemed to sum up my love life. Beautifully. 'and our virgin land would have been stocked with bulbs which could have assured us a financial future'. I liked the Dutch angle and was even more reassured as I read further. 'As it is, if anything goes wrong, we will still be able to continue on our own'.
Not being satisfied with this I went to get the book I was reading at the time and wondered if that would satisfy my lust for entertainment. 'Your refusal to sit down could amount to a sort of rebellion' seemed to describe my whole life and finally I stopped on opening Operation Mincemeat and discovering, ' I miss you most frightfully, and life has just seemed one long, grey monotone since we have separated'. There was only one solution, the one I always take when the four walls have had their chance and that is to go out. Moments later, nosebag on, tucking into some carillera and shooting the breeze with H, a charming but drunk man came up to us both and told us we were cachondos, which translates as horny, hot and turned on but also could mean funny, fun loving and riotous, so all in all a rather pleasant afternoon.
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