LZ hid a honeydew in my closet today. It’s a new game we play. The first time was a coupla weeks back. We were out antiquing in Snohomish and stopped by a grocery store to pick up some random things. I could smell the honeydew display 10 feet away – all ripe and saccharine and we went and lightly thumped some (apparently the Asian way to tell if they’re ripe? That’s what my dad did to watermelons anyway, not hard enough to bruise anything, mind you) and decided to take one home. He unloaded the groceries and I didn’t see where he kept the honeydew but I kept smelling this persistent honeydew whiff in the dining room whenever I walked past the bookcase, and when I looked, there it was sitting right on top with his granola and the cake stand and the calendar. (Our apartment is tiny, bookcases are multipurpose and not necessarily in a den or library. Nor do they necessarily hold books. They are in the dining room.) We cut it open and it was fabulously sweet.
So today we picked up another one at Safeway (we checked the ones at QFC, which were old, hard, and not fragrant or ripe at all) and when we got back he hid the honeydew in my closet behind the vases. I almost missed it! But when I closed the closet door after my bath my rather hound-like nose caught the scent of something fruity and I opened the door again and stared – there it was hiding behind all the vases! (Again, the house is tiny, closets do not necessarily hold only clothes. But neither do they hold produce) Now my clothes are all fruity and melony smelling.
NB: We seached on Youtube how to tell if a honeydew was ripe before cutting it open and found a marginally less old wife’s tale-y method by an american guy who said when you rub its skin with a damp thumb it should create this squeaking sound. Which we promptly tried and ours did! But it required some effort before we mastered the right squeaking technique. I’m not sure I totally believe this but it was so incredible I thought I’d write it here in case I forgot.
So I finally started reading the thin volume of Roger Mcgough poetry ‘Everyday Eclipses’ we bought from a second hand bookstore in Camden while on our honeymoon. We also bought 3 Beatrix Potters and Quentin Blake’s Snuff from the same shop. (I didn’t know Quentin Blake illustrated his own stories) but I suppose you can tell from his illustrations he is plenty quirky and imaginative enough to come up with enough plots to fill a library.
I do have Mcgough’s Collected Poems (in fact we have two, because I gave one to Ze before we even started dating), and am not quite sure how comprehensive of an anthology that is, so I just bought this one. It wasn’t expensive anyway, something like £6.
Here are four of Mcgough’s…. delusional poems – meetings with famous artistes and his tremendous impact on their lives.
One with Jimi Hendrix:
The one in which he claims full credit for the lyrics in ‘Hey Jude’
The one in which he clairvoyantly predicts Bob Dylan’s career path..a posteriori
And finally, his indispensable influence on Oasis.