Thursday, 27 August 2009

Miscellaneous

This is more of a necessity post, to stop the dog shame. I am unusually lacking things to say. Possibly because, being in London, I have spent quite a lot of time with actual, live, English speaking human beings, and thus have gibbered out all the stuff that usually festers in my brain, finding an outlet on these pages.

So, this will just be a brief update on, er, stuff.

1. The Children
Are in Dijon. I spoke to them for the first time for a couple of days a few minutes ago and they sound bizarrely older from this distance. Lashes had caught a very small lizard that escaped into a bench. Fingers had banged his head on the mane of a mechanical horse. I was unable to elicit any further details because they ran away at this point.

2. The Holy Tortoise
Is missing in the garden. We haven't seen him for about 2 months and are starting to get worried. I mean, holy as he is, I am not sure he could take on a highly determined tomcat. Say novenas for him please. He has taken two of his acolytes with him, I fear, as the tortoise count currently stands at 3/6. And no, the weepette has not been using them as chew toys. Even with his industrious little jaw, I very much doubt he could dispose of an entire tortoise without leaving some remains.

3. London
In what I choose to view as progress, I haven't felt compelled to cram the whole of central London in my suitcase to bring home with me. Ok, admittedly I am coming back next week, but still. London is cold and grey and very, very welcoming. I have wandered lonely as a cloud who floats o'er Marylebone High Street and does not even buy a single book from Daunt. Parsimony high five! Ok, I might, conceivably have bought a dress. But not a dear one. Honest, guvnor.

4. Confessional
Is supposed to be tomorrow. Is it worth it? Everyone seems to have been tiresomely good over the holidays. I certainly haven't been up to any noteworthy wickedness. Let me know in the comments whether you feel there is sufficient sin out there to merit Confessional.

5. Belgium
Is still switched off for the summer. But soon, they will start dusting down King Albert and Queen Paola, checking Fabiola's stuffing isn't coming out and she hasn't got motheaten, and taking the high level Eurozombies out of cold storage. Zurich rejuvenation clinics will empty as the undead regroup for another year of passionate regulation of tax incentives for regional bus companies and the like. I can hardly wait.

6. Friends off the internet
Have been extraordinarily wonderful to me in recent weeks. The CFO asked, not long ago, who I think will look after me, who will I have to hug, when Things take their course. This is, of course, a bit of an imponderable. The children, the weepette, family; we'll all hold on to each other as much, and as best we can. But I have the amazing privilege to also have people looking out for me on line. People who make me laugh and laugh and tell me their stories and share their wisdom, which is infinitely greater than mine. I am a bit pathetic at asking for help in real life, so the people who have heard my muted, pathetic, virtual cris de coeur recently have been utter life savers. I sound really sappy, don't I? But it's so much appreciated. Ugh. I should perhaps have said, I'm hungover. I might cry at any minute. If a pigeon looked at me funny today I burst into inconsolable tears. It's tragic.

7. Gin
Is a poison. A slow acting, long lasting poison. There's a reason they call it Mothers' Ruin. And why it led eighteenth century addicts to blithely throw their children onto the fire, mistaking them for logs (I learnt about this in my totally reputable history degree so it MUST be true). Just say no, kids.



I do hope slightly enhanced service will resume tomorrow when my brain should be marginally less spongiform.

24 comments:

bevchen said...

Ugh. Gin. I hate it. It tastes like perfume!
The internets are wonderful, aren't they? It's amazing how fellow bloggers never fail to say the right thing.

jojo said...

Dear Waffle; I have made a small but appropriately Shrine Testudinae for the Holy Tortoise and will say prayers. And I will not tell you what happened to Dad's former tortoise after it went missing, other than to say it still makes me well up and picture terrible Tortoise ER-like happenings.
As for Other Stuff: I am only one of your Imaginary Internet friends. But I will happily send weird cyber animals and invent vile and inappropriate acronyms should you continue to need them. And gin. Possibly gin.
Get up to some noteworthy wickedness. You know it makes sense.
xx

GingerB said...

May I offer you something funny?Come over here and read about one thing that will cheer you about being alone in a bed: http://gas-food-lodging.blogspot.com/2009/08/mansand_27.html

I am working on a series of salami sculptures for your fete.

Cakeface said...

Not only your friends in the internet, but even their fete creations are looking out for you while Things take their course. Let us imagine a moment when the evil hedgehog cake sidles up to you and essays what it thinks is a supportive (evil, yellow) smile for your hour of need, perhaps with a slightly unwelcome offer to buy you a gin sometime, lady.

(Um, if I am writing about cakes with an independent lecherous existence, then perhaps it is time to stop.)

Z said...

My friend Avril told me that gin is a mood enhancer - drink it when you're cheerful and you become happier, but drink it when you're feeling down at your peril. And I've realised that she's right.

I've got something frightful on my conscience, but I've completely forgotten what it is, and only feel a mild unease.

WV is, and I tell truth, 'comic'. I think it's inappropriate at present as I pace the floor worrying about you and your family, but I present it to you all the same.

screamish said...

oh god, the tortoise gone??? Small Animal Loss is the worst. i used to have nightmares for years about losing small furry cute things in my care, highly symbolic of my fear of resposnibility of course (cant even spell it)

now i have babies, similar fears but assuaged (sp?) by the fact theyve almost made it to a year.

there's always someone there when you need someone..often someone you dont expect. dont worry, you'll be fine, you'll be looked after...

screamish said...

ps

gin cursed fiend, with fury fraught
make barman race a prey
it enters by a deadly draught
and steals our life away


Gin Lane

http://en.wikivisual.com/images/1/15/GinLane.jpg

jojo said...

PS I just noticed that Panda Bread didn't make it into the Village Fete! Was his squashed, Munch-like face not enough for you? *sobs*. Did he have to have cake credentials from Chengdu?

*shuffles off to work on Plasticine Teacup Pigs*

*and drink gin*

Laura Jane said...

Well, thanks for the update.

I am incredulous that you would leave so much of London behind for future purchasing!

And....I often think of you, just worrying about you in general, about Things, and conclusions, and how ineffectual it is to worry from so far away....but concerned nonetheless.

Does that count as looking after you? Will virtual soup actually nourish?

WrathofDawn said...

You've left your children in mustard? Won't they be well marinated by the time you return!

I blame the gin.

Artichoke Queen said...

I don't really see how we could possibly have a confessional with the Holy Torty missing -- from whence come the penance? I vote to save it for September, when people have another month to be appropriately wicked (dear God, please may I commit some wickedness by then? Pleeeeease??) and hopefully HTtm will be back in his red Pradas.

Meanwhile, gin is good, cake is better, and cake with gin is the best. And that is how we shall continue to look after you.

Laura and Ben said...

I will keep an eye out for the holy tortoise in case he has made it as far as Place Stephanie. I feel it could take many months longer for him to get here though.
Could you kidnap the mascot of Mini Europe and just pretend. Although, is he a tortoise or a turtle? In his case, does it even matter?

Fat Controller said...

'Spongiform' is a great word. I don't believe I have ever seen it used in a blog before. in fact I don't believe I have ever seen it used outside of a pathology textbook.

Word verification is 'extra', believe it or not.

Mrs Jones said...

Re. The missing Holy Tortoise. I saw this and thought of you - http://www.flickr.com/photos/museumofanimalperspectives/3359069044/ (Actually, click on the Museum of Animal Perspectives link and it'll take you to other fab animal cams - I particularly like the Armadillo ones!). When you locate HT, perhaps you should attach a small camera to his shell so you can see where he's going!

WV is 'lizinges' - lozenges for lizards?

Jaywalker said...

Bevchen - learn to love gin like it loves you. Mmm. Gin.

Jojo - fear not, the CFO and I both have a chequered early history of tortoise care and you can share any hideous tortoise tales you need to. LET IT OUT. Also, of COURSE the panda bread can be in the fête. I just need a jpeg. I have failed to be noteworthily wicked, but I have been drunk 2 nights running and very particularly incredibly drunk chez Trefusis last night in particular. It's a start.

Ginger - I sort of wish I hadn't read that right now, brilliant as it is. Nauseous.

Cakeface - I want to get asked out by a yellow toothed hedgehog cake now. Do you think he likes me? Do you?

Z - does your wise friend have any alternative suggestions when you suffering from a long dark ING basement of the soul? Also, I love the fact that your heinous crimes are not causing you any particular distress. Brava.

Screamish - 'gone' is a big word. We just can't really see him. Or something. Gah. Come back Holy Tortoise. I love the gin poem. x

Laura Jane - it totally counts. And helps.

WrathofDawn - Oops. another parenting failure. Ah well, they will be a pretty yellow colour perhaps.

Artichoke Queen - no, I think you're right we must pray to Nathan for his return. Gin and cake. But not right this minute. For now, Coke and toast is about as much as I can manage.

Laura and Ben - If he's got to Place Stephanie, he's obviously taken the 92. I ought to check under the seats on Monday maybe and see whether he isn't still in there. Don't say Mini Europe, I'm still scarred from my visit with Fingers.

Fat Controller - why thank you. Let's say it again. Spongiform. Actually my brain is even more spongiform today than yesterday. Oops.

Mrs Jones - that is SO COOL. You are my go to girl for fabulous links. Thank you soooo much. x

Mwa said...

We lost a cat in the garden. That was four years ago. It was our favourite cat.

I prefer wine to gin these days. I can't have gin without tonic water, which makes it too fattening. While wine is not fattening at all. Neither is beer.

screamish said...

Mwa- the "wine is not fattening" logic is what has made me the svelte queen that i am. in my experience four glasses of wine a night just MELTS off the lovehandles! go girl!

Anonymous said...

London. Hrmf, don't get me started on London. Murder One has gone. Fantasy Centre closed up. And there is nothing left remarkable beneath the vanishing moon.
Christer

Z said...

Avril certainly knocks back a fair bit of wine with her anti-depressants and it seems to work just fine.

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