All this morning at Pegg Kite’s with my uncle Fenner, and two friends of his, appraising her goods that her mother has left; but the slut is like to prove so troublesome that I am out of heart with troubling myself in her business. After we had done we all went to a cook’s shop in Bishopsgate Street and dined, and then I took them to the tavern and did give them a quart of sack, and so parted. I home and then took my wife out, and in a coach of a gentlewoman’s that had been to visit my Lady Batten and was going home again our way, we went to the Theatre, but coming late, and sitting in an ill place, I never had so little pleasure in a play in my life, yet it was the first time that ever I saw it, “Victoria Corombona.” Methinks a very poor play. Then at night troubled to get my wife home, it being very dark, and so we were forced to have a coach. So to supper and to bed.
Moth
like a heart
in a cook’s sack,
sitting in an ill place
in the dark.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Wednesday 2 October 1661.
giggling here…
i haven’t had enough tea to write clearly, or perhaps to get the impulse control working
I read the poem
I read the bio about the gut and then I scrolled back up a bit and saw ensure –as in the drink stuff
instead of the erasure
sharing it has somewhat removed the humor though
Always glad to give someone a chuckle. Thanks for reading.