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"In a man's letters you know Madam-his soul lies naked-his letters are only the mirror of his breast-whatever passes within him is shown undisguised in its natural process."-Samuel Johnson, "More than kisses- letters mingle souls; for thus friends absent speak." - John Donne, 'A Letter is a Joy of Earth -It is denied the Gods.'- Emily Dickinson, “letter writing is the only device for combining solitude with good company” -Lord Byron, She climbs up a hill and is handed a parcel Then she unwraps the parcel And discovers a castle inside
The Cloud received a curious package in the post yesterday. It was sent from a land underneath the Earth. The Cloud rarely receives mail, so the sight of The Mighty Pigeon of Post dropping the package from on high was a welcome one.
The front of the package looked like this – (The Cloud’s specific co-ordinates have been hidden to protect those who have sought sanctuary in the attic from the evil Jack Frost).
‘Mrs Cloud’. The Cloud enjoyed this title, because it is all genders, and can choose at will, therefore likes to swap titles, gender specifics and hats quite often. (Only a month ago it became quite insufferable when refusing to answer to any communication at all, unless addressed as ‘The Incredible High Lord of Fringes and Thimbles’)
The contents of the package were as follows –
‘Spoon in Paint’ – something the Cloud and sonmi did not posses, and now would not part with for all the tea in the corner shop. The orange is of course very significant – “orange is commonly associated with amusement, the unconventional, extroverts, fire, activity, danger, taste and aroma”. It shall not sit with the other spoons however because it has power over appetite, and sonmi has previously thwarted several other such attempts to make her into a humongous lard-arse of a munter. It shall instead sit, pride of place, in the crow’s nest.
Important government documents of a highly sensitive nature.
A jigsaw puzzle of the Cloud itself no less! nods very seriously. Said puzzle is a drawing of the Cloud upon a sheet of lasagne which was then smashed into dust particles (near enough), and placed carefully in a sealed plastic bag with a very attractive bow upon it. (sonmi is now wearing said bow in her hair).
There was no question of doing anything but taking on the challenge and so after many hours of strong contemplation, furrowed brow, and head scratching, finally….Success! (Of a sort.)
It takes some skill to complete such a fiendishly complex puzzle, but as you can see, sonmi is an expert. And what a fine portrait it is!
Finally a long, jam-packed with somersaults letter was placed within also. Here is just a small hint of the contents –
This letter contained many beautiful things that are for sonmi and the Cloud’s eyes only, (complicated but the Cloud can ‘see’), and she is very grateful for its innards, and feels the Gods may have had a hand in the timing.
Thank you Jessie, at some point, when you least expect it, something Cloudy shall appear across time and space (weeks and kilometers), in front of your very eyes, ears and toes.
That is quite the thing! I like it lots. Especially the puzzle.
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It is the very ticket. The puzzle being a master-stroke.
Thank you for popping over sir.
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“The Mighty Pigeon of Post dropping”…
One might need an industrial strength bumbershoot to ward off ‘pigeon post dropping’. From the sky? How utterly rude of mighty pigeons of post. Damn them! Damn them all to a cleaner jacket…
:}
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The good news is that sonmi collects said droppings, and sells them as ‘special vanilla dessert’ to her enemies. Seems to work a treat.
Good to see you Don. smiles
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I must say I am coveting your orange spoon, and how thoughtful of your kind donor to label it so clearly lest it should be mistaken for, say . . . something else altogether . . . oh, a spoon in pain perhaps. That would be what they (who are ‘they’ anyway?) call a ‘pants opinion’ though, which two words themselves – entirely coincidentally – I note to be an anagram of ‘spoon in paint’. I digress. The expression ‘out of this world toilet’ is just the sort of thing my mother would have said, pretty much about any loo with a liquid soap dispenser to hand, hand-knitted bog roll covers, pink cistern water (frightening or what?), anything but ‘Bronco’ or ‘Izal’, and a selection of ‘Haze’. It would be fascinating to read further your donor’s more contemporary vision at some point. In any case, they clearly love you very much, and suspect the same is true of all of we readers here dear Mrs. Cloud.
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I’d hate to see a spoon in pain, or indeed to spoon in pain, for spooning should be a lovely affair, unless it is purely for warmth as you are both soon to perish upon the icy waste-lands of a distant planet if you do not spoon, yet cannot bear the sight of each other in reality, in which case, why did they even contemplate such an arduous journey in each others company in the first place?! I ask you!
Now you may have me digressing too…possibly.
Your note about your mother has cracked me up as much as the pasta puzzle. “hand-knitted bog roll covers, pink cistern water” – the former I have experience of, ones with dolls stuck in the middle – pale, vacant-looking damsels in clear distress and and itchy dress, the latter…is brand new to me. Blue, yes, pink? By the Gods.
“they clearly love you very much, and suspect the same is true of all of we readers here dear Mrs. Cloud.” – I am honoured to hear you say so, and very touched too – hugs him. My readers are a motley, fine crew of rapscallions and miscreants, and I am highly chuffed they give the Cloud and sonmi (sunme/esme/singme/sunsee/trying on possible other names here), the time and thought they do, your good self, very much included Hariod. Thank you from the heart.
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The spoon in pain, stays mainly in the plain – thus have I overheard, or somesuch, dear Esme. Though it may have been pooing in Spain come to think of it, yet not, I trust, pooing in pain – a possible cause of pinkish bog-hues peut-être? Anyway, especially not orange-tipped painful poos, which would be a cause for great concern, and probably a sign to cut back on the carrots. I am unable to comment on your astral travelling spooniks, though the silly sods need a rocket putting under them – that’s for forking sure!
[I rest my arse m’lady]
Lots of love,
Miss Creant Brawn.
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That’s all very gross Miss Creant. Thank you.
Having watched the video, I now want cerise toilet water, I blame you entirely and shall be sending you the bill.
<
ul>
❤
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Please do, psonmi of the silent-but-not-pink pee, I’m feeling pretty flush currently.
H ❤
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Oooooooooooooh groans.
Silent…but deadly pee!
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You’re a puzzling lass-agne?
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Punny guy. You’ll be dad-dancing next.
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Carrots are fine. Orange spoons are fine, with caveats.
Watch out for beets. Especially beet juice. I know this from recent personal experience (and no, beet juice doesn’t help with cold feet, but it does make going to the bathroom a somewhat psychedelic experience, especially in combination with Vitamin B.)
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Home-made pink toilet water. Of course. Genius. Thank you for that. I have found the only way I can bear to consume beetroot, is as a kind of pate that has sugar added. Sounds bloody awful (apt with the gory appearance), but it is really very nice. Twas all they had in some restaurant in Cornwall once that was vegan, so I reluctantly, being famished, agreed to order it. I’ve made some myself since, but it didn’t catch on and I’m still no great fan of the root generally. (Beet that is).
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Well Tina, unlike our hostess whose name seems to be changing colour with every comment of hers here, I do love the occasional roasted beetroot or three. Now, it isn’t just the waters passing that change colour, if I’m not being too indelicate. Whether your ‘Vitamin B’ is code for Purple Haze or somesuch, I can only wonder at, though the effect of pivoting to inspect one’s evacuations can indeed be shocking:
“Purple Haze all in my drain,
lately poos don’t seem the same,
actin’ funny but I don’t know why
‘scuse me while I piss the sky.
Purple Haze all around,
don’t know if I’m crapping up or down.
Am I happy or in misery?
Whatever it is, that beetroot put a smell on me.”
Durn, durn, durn . . . durn, durn, durn . . . (etc.)
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tickled by this.
a work in progress upon the Cloud
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That beetroot put a smell on me! 🙂
Oh, definitely not being too indelicate. You can go ahead and say it…royal shits are intriguing.
“Vitamin B” is not a code, it’s just a vitamin that turns your pee neon yellow. Do you remember the color wheel? Consider that, plus the “indelicate matter” and you’ll see what I mean by “psychedelic.”
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This is what I’m seeing:

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Hahahahaha. Nice.
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Nice.
Have a pleasant weekend
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I’m glad you thought so mak. May your weekend be sun-filled and full of grins.
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“What in the…”? could be heard to be exclaimed by me when first I did see what unto you was delivered, which, quite interestingly (at least to me, so, just grin and bear it), reminds me of the Bible verse, Corinthians 15:3 which reads “For I delivered unto you first of all that which I also received, how that Christ died for our sins according to the scripture” though I’m only speaking of the first bit and not the second as I don’t think you’re attempting to remind me, or anyone for that matter, that Christ died for our sins as I have never heard you mention, even in passing, any concern about people’s transgressions of divine law.
Anyway, I have enjoyed this post and thank you for sharing it.
The President and Founder
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“just grin and bear it” – I’m still on probation from last time.
Now the connection you have made there is perhaps not so far fetched as some might think (they’ll rue the day eventually), for the following song lyrics could well apply to the contents of the package;
‘You wanna see sin of the wickedest kind?
Here it is!
You wanna see virtue left behind?
Here it is!
Sodom was vice
And visa-versa
You wanna see where the vice is worser?
Here it is!
I mean, here it is!
You wanna live life in the rottenest city?
Here it is!
Women and whiskey, night and day?
Here it is!
You wanna embrace the golden calf?
Ankle, and thigh, and upper half?
Here it is!
I mean, here it is!
No name city
No name city
The Lord don’t like it here
No name city
No name city
Your reckoning day is near
No name city
No name city
Here’s what he’s gonna do
Open up this town
And swallow it down
And goodbye to you
Will you go to heaven?
Will you go to hell?
Either repent, or fare thee well
He won’t take care of no name city
Comes the end, and it won’t be pretty
Here it is!
I mean, here it is!’ – No Name City – Paint Your Wagon.
Thank you for letting me know you enjoyed the post President and Founder, appreciated. nods
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Marvelous!
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Hurrah! It is indeed.
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“My readers are a motley, fine crew of rapscallions and miscreants . . .”
You rang, Sonmi?
Tubularsock was spellbound with your exceptional parcel that was dropped by “The Mighty Pigeon of Post”.
The Spoon of Orange seems so “English” like you’d need a Prince or an Earl or something to be in place to control the amusement and all.
Tubularsock has a “NO FLY ZONE” over his Top Floor Corner Office In The Underground Bunker Overlooking Washington, D.C. From Oakland,Ca to avoid that damn Pigeon’s Droppings!
You may want to consider cooking up the lasagna puzzle and eating it to avoid the possibility of it getting into the hands of ISIS. Just a warning from your local NSA office.
All in all what a happy gift to receive. Tubularsock can see that it is best to keep you busy on The Cloud.
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It was a perfect package almost parnassian in nature Tubular, and I too was bound with spells.
You have an underground bunker with a top floor corner office, I like that, no-one will ever know quite where to look for you nods.
I have been considering eating the puzzle, the final step in some ways, but fear the ink might kill me dead.
“Tubularsock can see that it is best to keep you busy on The Cloud.” – A truer word has never been said at present.
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The Cloud Lasagna Puzzle was 4 shards separate upon sending. It goes to show, the sheer brutality of a singular letter & its journey across sea. I was hesitant writing ‘lasagna’ in the description of contents, as I though it might get caught up in food customs. Glad it all arrived safely & hope it made you a little brighter. Your efforts are divine Mrs. Cloud!
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Ah…I like that, the trials of the journey taking its toll on the surface, though I must admit to being partly responsible, as I clutched the parcel in some excitement when I picked it up from the Cloud’s doormat, Ahem. But not excessively. Honest guv. I was also surprised that foodstuff made it across the borders, but decided the powers that be must have realised that ‘Mrs Cloud’ was a force to be reckoned with, and decided it was best not to interfere in the matter.
It did, and I’m pleased you approve!
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There was a moment, when I thought maybe I’d receive a fine for the foodstuffs not being declared, and, giggled as it would be a great story, one I wouldn’t mind attaching to my belt I do not wear.
Also, somewhere down under the earth, is that hell?
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You could have tucked it in your sock nods a lot. Perhaps I can get away with posting myself in a giant box labelled ‘Boiled sweets and Dolly mixtures’. Worth a try.
“Also, somewhere down under the earth, is that hell?” – No, hell is Primark on a Saturday afternoon a week before Christmas. Under the Earth is much nicer I hear, and even better than above it as it ‘aint so chilly.
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You could get away with anything. Oh phew, I can sleep soundly now
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Virtually anything…hmmmm, one day perhaps. Queen of the universe is a start. Sleep well little Jessie, don’t let the bed bugs bite, feed them toast instead.
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How cool is this? Yes, quite cool, I’d say. But I can see, plainly so, you’re no master of pasta puzzles. Pardon me for pointing that out.
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You’re quite right, I am no master of pasta puzzles, no…I am The Mistress of Pasta Puzzles!
Cheeky sod.
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And I was doing so well, post Hendrix and all, (all=two’s a crowd on my cloud…) along with Prince insisting that he only wants to see you…in the purple rain…
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I’ll have three and wrap them well. I mean yes, sorry abut the madness, or perhaps welcome to the madhouse. It’s all part of the ride nods. I liked ‘Purple Rain’, but ‘When Doves Cry’ pipped it at the post for myself and the Cloud.
Thanks for popping over Robert beams a smile his way.
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☺ thanks for beaming! 🌠
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(almost chuckling uncontrollably) Reading this pleased me much! ❤ 😈
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laughs I’m pleased to hear it. Strange parcels from a strange and distant land make for exciting stuff, when Jessie is involved they do anyway.
esme upon the Cloud
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