When people do proper practical things which is a bit out of their norm, it makes me think

of this poem:

Stripping Walls
By Brian Jones

I have been practical as paint today, wholesome as bread -
I have stripped walls. I rose early and felt clean-limbed
And steady-eyed and said 'Today I will strip those walls.'
I have not been chewing my nails and gazing through windows
And grovelling for a subject or happiness. There was the subject,
Simple and tall. And when the baker called he was civil
And looking at me with some respect he said
'I see you're stripping walls' - I could see he liked me,
And when I opened the door to the greengrocer, I glinted my eyes
And leaned nonchalantly and poked some tomoatoes and said as an
aside
'I'm stripping walls today.' 'Are you?' he asked, interested, and I
said
'Yes, just stripping those walls.' I could feel my forearms thicken,
grow
Hairy, and when the laundry arrived I met it with rolled sleeves.
'Stripping walls?' he asked. 'Yeah' I said, as if it were unimportant,
'Stripping walls. You know.' He nodded and smiled as if he knew.
And with a step like a spring before the meal I strode
Down to the pub and leaned and sipped ale and heard them talk
How one cleared land that morning, another chopped wood.
When an eye caught mine I winked and flipped my head. 'I've been
Stripping walls,' I said. 'Have you?' 'Yeah, you know, just
stripping.'
They nodded. 'Can be tricky,' one mumbled. I nodded. 'It can be
that.'
'Plaster,' another said. 'Holes,' I said. 'Workmanship,' said another
And shook his head. 'Yeah, have a drink,' I said.
And I whistled through the afternoon, and stood once or twice
At the door-jamb, the stripper dangling from my fingers.
'Stripping?' asked the neighbours. I nodded and the went on happy -
They were happy that I was stripping walls. It meant a lot.

When it grew dark, I went out for the freshness. 'Hey!' I called up,
'I've been stripping walls!' 'Just fancy that!' answered the moon with
A long pale face like Hopkins. 'Hey, fellers!', he called to the
stars,
'This hairy little runt has been stripping walls!' 'Bully for him,'
chimed
The Pole star, remote and cool as Vergil, 'He's a good, good lad.'
I crept to the kitchen, pursued by celestial laughter.
'You've done well today,' she said. 'Shall we paint tomorrow?'
'Ah, shut up!' I said, and started hacking my nails.

Posted By: Bravo win or die, Mar 21, 11:02:03