Gertrude’s Diary #23 – Controversy, cupboards and correspondence

Gertrude's Diary

Gertrude”s Diary is controversial! You wouldn”t guess it from my meek exterior, or the mild subject matter I employ, but it”s true. Loadedog has been approached with a complaint about my last entry. I”m actually incredibly grateful to the gentleman in question, because twice now he”s provided me with an introduction that segues perfectly from the previous instalment. Thanks!

Things have been very pleasant in Gertrude land this week. Spring is in the air, flowers are blooming, la de da de da. In addition -” and I hesitate to tell you about this because it is incredibly nerdy and a possible indicator of OCD ” my hall cupboards are tidy; the linen lined up, books, boxes and bags stored neatly. I believe one should never underestimate the power of order for restoring psychic well-being.

That being said, my enjoyment factor was exponentially increased by the delivery on Thursday of a parcel from my dear friend, companion and lover Kandy Aye (not his real name). Mr Aye (or KA here after) has temporarily relocated to Darwin, and is facing the loneliness-demon in that far flung place. Poor dear. I should go and visit him, but impossible deadlines loom at work. In any event, as you may know from Diary #20, I relish a written correspondence. I think word-play is a delightful addition to any friendship.

And so it is with my Darwin darling. He”s prepared for me a subject reference to Gertrude”s Diary instalments 1″ 22, cross-checked against whether any contain a reference to him. Sadly, there is almost no mention of him whatsoever, but he has exploited this lack to fill a column with witty remarks that kept me giggling for several minutes. I think I fell in love with KA”s sense of humour; you can get through most things together if you keep laughing. Even separation.

He”s gone now to an amazing festival in the middle of the desert and is out of touch for a few days. I miss him. Last Sunday night he called as I was climbing into bed, and we talked while I sank slowly towards sleep. It was the closest I”ve felt to him and paradoxically the most I”ve missed him in the weeks he”s been away.

During that sleepy conversation I told him that I didn”t miss his feet (they”re a bit stinky), and he replied in injured tones that I was fickle. “That”s not true”, I replied, “I”ve never liked your feet”. He said he”s going to write a book of horrible things I say and that particular example is going on the first page.

Dearest KA, if you”re reading this (and you”d better be); hurry back. I miss your stupid jokes.

PS. I”ve moved your shoes and socks into the shed.

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