A MONKEY IN AN ILL-FITTING TUNIC

One of the most charming and yet saddest news items this week is about an attempt by an elderly parishioner to restore a fresco in a Spanish church. Sad, because the result does not even resemble what was there before. Charming, because the new picture has a certain je ne sais quoi.
It has been described as simian.
With clothing issues.


A MONKEY IN AN ILL-FITTING TUNIC!

Ecce Mono, by Ms. Cecilia Gimenez



LOOKING GOOD WEARING THAT!

Many years ago I stayed up in the hills during the monsoon. The weather was cooler there, and despite torrential downpours interrupted by long stretches of light yet persistent rain, it was quite enjoyable.
All day long it was dark. You could flake out under the overhanging roof and gaze out over the valley, green green like jade or fresh apples. Everything smelled much stronger, but it was far enough above everything to be very bearable indeed.

Still, you needed lots of towels. In that climate towels never fully dried.  Neither did clothes.
Even long after bathing you would still feel moist, and you would have to put a towel over the pillow in the long chair to keep it from getting too damp, or even to provide a layer of insulation and absorption.
My favourite towel had a picture of a teddy bear.
No idea where the proprietors had gotten it.
A teddy bear with a serious expression.
Holding on to a crimson balloon.

At night it was also useful to have a towel - if soaked and wrung out, it assisted sleep. Every day the sheets would be washed and ironed - the ironing was necessary to dry them. But the only way to get the towels dry was by toasting them near a flame.
During breaks in the rain a stack of clean folded towels would be delivered, smelling pleasantly smoky, like incense.

They were soft. Not particularly fluffy.

When no one was looking, I would bury my face in the stomach of the bear, and sniff deeply.
Laundry soap and toasted herbs.


One day I had put a shirt over a spare chair to air it out, and fallen asleep.
A startling sound woke me up.
When I looked towards where it came from, I saw a furry face.
With my shirt draped around it. Empty sleeves flopping.
The creature then rushed off in a panic.
With my shirt.

I do not begrudge the macaque that habiliment. It was replaceable, and she looked so pleased with it over her head.
But it was a very nice shirt, and I really hope she appreciated it.
I'm fairly certain that it was a lady monkey.
A male would've tried eating it instead.

And till she saw me watching, she was styling!
Très très chique.


Eeeeeep!


She would have looked good just wearing a towel, too.


Spare towels.
Extra shirts.
Fit for rain.



==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================