My marvellous mat.

Doesn't this mat make your mouth water???       Oh well, maybe not ......... but the colour sure gets my blood pumping.   I can see red or green or blue, but I feel purple.    I feel it in that part of my chest where I have felt homesick; where I feel the sad twinge of missing my Mum and Dad and the little babies who didn't make it.  It begins with a delicious bubble, a wobbly feeling like jelly on top of a trifle;  then it changes quickly to pizzicato on a violin string.

And that reminds me ----- I was 14, in Year 11, writing a review of a poem, written by either Byron, Shelley or Keats.   I thought it was a poem with great contrasts of colour and emotion, so I wrote, "These words are like pearls on black velvet."  

When my report was returned, marked with a C, my little gem was crossed out with a heavy pen and written above that desecration was, "Don't be so fanciful.  That won't get you anywhere.  It is meaningless."  I felt one of those twinges at that moment but it wasn't purple!!

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HAPPY JULY 4TH AMERICA