Friday, 11 November 2016

To the furry envelopes

Well. WELL.

How's your productivity going, in the end times? I confess I have spent much of today digital window-shopping for chickens. Man, there are some great chickens out there, ones with crazy facial ornaments, ones with Trump-hair, ones that look like small thunderstorms on legs and ones described, ominously, as "vive"... Our elderly hen feu Tabasco died on End Times Day (I went out in the pouring pathetic fallacy rain, haggard with disbelief and horror and found her dead, thereby adding to Tuesday's general shitweaselry) and I know it seems callous to already be browsing for her replacement, but poor Pepper our resident avian tyrant looks very forlorn out there on her own with no one to bully all day then cosy up to at night.

Each to their own. Me: chickens, B: Welsh gin, F: posting Auden poems on Facebook, M: buying leopard print boots.

Here is the dearly departed, posing uneasily with a pumpkin recently. You were a good hen, Tabasco, if very loud in the mornings.



In other la-la-la-pretend-it-isn't-happening news, we went to Luxembourg for three days last week on The Most Middle Aged Holiday Ever, hiking. Luxembourg was (a) ludicrously beautiful and (b) waaaaay more German speaking than I had realised. Except the cemetery:


Aujourd'hui nous, demain vous, it says, cheerily. 

Such rocks, much tree, so waterfall:









I'm finding looking at these pictures of rocks and trees very calming. I mean, they've been around for kajillions of years. They've probably seen worse, right?

Our hotel was quite eccentric, with 7 different saunas, many with naked German people in (plus one IN OUR ROOM, why, a sauna not a naked German). The relaxation room, however, was entirely out of bounds for everyone but wasps.


There was also an 18th century hermit hole, if things get really bad:


I mean, I'm not saying I'm totally qualified to live in a hole in a rock on seeds and roots pieusement dans la crainte de Dieu, but if it becomes essential, I can give it a shot.

I have two Yorkshire Vet episodes to relate to you, including one which went full Carry On with Julian having to break an alpaca's hymen, but I'll save those for later (it's another bastarding public holiday today). Instead, let me show you the dog's new bed, because I am pretty sure a human-sized one is what we all need right now. I am fully obsessed with this bed.



Truly, it is a bed for the age. Join me in the fake fur lined envelope of comfort and denial.

If none of these things does it for you, can I humbly recommend this, one of my most cherished extracts from Ru Paul's Drag Race season 7? I have it filed away for the darkest days:




 "hashtag #thebestIcandorightnowinthissituation" (words to live by)

"this is the Hunger Games of Drag"

And also, commentary by Katya, my most-loved queen EVAH.

(Since I wrote this: Leonard Cohen AND an outbreak of avian flu meaning I may not even be able to go chicken shopping today. Oh, and another wave of spam from witch doctors on the blog, which is now basically a forum for bots to talk about Drs Unity and Osemu Okpamen, both of whom, based on the botcomments, may in fact be better qualified to be Commander in Chief than the next incumbent, even though they are fictitious. BRING ON THE FURRY ENVELOPES)

37 comments:

belalumo said...

Thanks for making me laugh today. I'll take one human-sized furry envelope, please. My country may go down in flames, but at least I won't have to watch.

Anne said...

Yes. Exactly. I agree with all of it. And now, back to my hermit cave to pretend it never happened.

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Esme Weatherwax said...

I sacked off careers teaching this Weds in favour of duvet and jigsaws. Taking a mental health day seemed the only response possible; imagine sitting in a room with everyone yakking about jobs in the 'future'....wtf is that now?

Anyway, I had wrongly thought our cat Boo's bed was the ne plus ultra, having cost £2fricking7 of the Earth pounds (isn't that approx 0.003 of a Euro now?)...stern words were had with spendthrift husband, though he was visibly unchastened. Surely it's healthier if your spouse fears you a least a little?!

6 music are playing Leonard, hadn't realised I know every word. Yes I'll take this waltz. Let's spin towards the apocalypse in 3/4 time...and try not to feel too bitter in the silence at 11am that we have betrayed the dead.

Happy days! As Katy said this week: there aren't enough fucks in for fucks' sake. I'm off up the moors with the pack...my version of chicken therapy. RIP Tabasco. Pecky Bastard has a beautiful Acer tree growing on her now. May it's branches slap the faces of anyone who keeps hens in awful conditions as she was...took her months to recover, but she was stunning and shiny when she did, if a little psychotic.

This fucking year...Well. WELL. Indeed.

Very glad you're writing and lighting a lovely funny candle which flickers brightly amid all the shit. Worst compliment ever? Haha

Patience_Crabstick said...

I've accomplished exactly nothing in the past several days. On election day, I was so elated that I had just voted for the first woman president of the United States, I couldn't even sit still. Then came the crushing disappointment and black despair. I would like to take solace in knitting or Anthony Trollope, but all I seem able to do is check twitter obsessively and get more and more angry.

CJ said...

Oh, Leonard Cohen, I didn't know. Every so often I like to listen to Hallelujah. All very calming. The dog bed made me smile. Do you think we will all have to face reality soon? I am still very much tucked into my furry envelope at the moment. Nothing accomplished here either.

Jonathan Lethbridge said...

I fully expect many old people now to simply say of "FFS" and quietly die, such is the state of the world. Except one 94 year old in America somewhere who is now determined to live to 98 in order to vote against fuckwittery in the 2020 Presidential election.

Waffle said...

I was going to delete that spam comment, but I've decided to interpret it as a message saying "take courage, soon this shitty year will be over". From a robot.

Lindsey said...

I know this is lowering the tone somewhat, but 'furry envelope' sounds genitally euphemistic, which puts an entirely different slant on various of these comments and is making me giggle...

frau antje said...

I have never wanted to carve out some 'me time'
I have always wanted to just live in a motherfucking cave full of it. But not, you know, with end of days shit raging outside.
Fortunately, I live up the ass of a stupid white guy with no credentials, and not much I can make out in the way of morals, scruples or empathy. So, maybe there's hope.
But Dr. Unity is fictitious you say? Seriously, I can't take much more.
Although, 'Larry Bird and Raven-Symoné in a permanent buttfuck position,' does help to ease the pain. The following did too, just as a representation of a person from the midwest.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Edyv8sEnHGg

kath said...

I persuaded the boy to watch YV with me. The hymen episode unfurled before us. He was just frozen to the sofa with horror.
Vast dog wouldn't enter an envelope, he goes upside down like a table at the bottom of the stairs and we have to hurdle him.

Anonymous said...

My 84 year old mother woke on on Tuesday and remembered the war, when she was but a wee thing. She said it all brought to mind the lady in the local bread shop who was heard to say 'Well, what is the world coming to?'quite frequently in those years. Quite.

Jessica Oulton said...

Can you please tell me where I can purchase a furry envelope for my dog? I'm loving it.

Dame Eleanor Hull said...

There is a crack in everything.

Leonard died before the election; family just held off on announcing it. I find that a small comfort, that the news didn't kill him.

Anonymous said...

I can't think witty or absurd with the end of days so instead I will comment on your middle aged weekend.

What a great time of year to go hiking in Luxembourg. It's lovely in Autumn. The eastern side of Luxembourg is more German speaking and the rest is less. Its a proximity thing. It's also a class thing, urban and well educated are more French speaking because it's much more the language of administration, laws, etc. But Luxembourgish rules over the rest. The older ones don't like how many german words are used in Luxembourgish when there's a serviceable Luxembourgish one available. They remember the Nazis trying to eradicate Luxembourgish when they decided the country was actually German. The nature is the main thing I miss about Luxembourg with this life in Brussels.

MJ said...

Well, well indeed. With the election (and I'm not even American, but live next door) and Leonard Cohen and general life, I'm completely ready for the furry envelope. Actually, the hermit's hole might suit me more but because I'm middle-aged and think a hiking holiday sounds lovely I'll go with the comfier envelope.
Thanks for the humour today.

Crazy Mom! said...

It does feel like End Times here since we elected the Orange Voldemort. I had to drive into work today listening to Cohen's "Dance Me to the End of Time" to make me feel better.

Also making me feel better - Pallas cats. SOOOO cute!
http://www.boneandyarn.com/ultimate-guide-pallas-cat/
https://youtu.be/A9ig2pRIPto
https://youtu.be/soBYeKyUIPU (music is awful)

One must take comfort where we can. I chose chocolate and sleep.

Anonymous said...

Thank heavens for your post, I have been needing some humor here in the US. And will continue to need it.

Tamara Protassow said...

Reporting in that the clip from Ru Paul's Drag Race is strangely therapeutic for the End Times.
Will file for the future. Thank you.

J. said...

Some gallows humor I saw on social media
Britain: Brexit was the dumbest, most self-destructive act a country could undertake.
USA: Hold my glass

I've been too angry to eat or sleep.

Catharine Swash said...

Sorry to hear of the demise of your Tabasco hon. May I recommend a pet rooster? They are delightfully and endlessly entertaining and intelligent. ... Ours is 4 now and a wonderful companiable honerary guard dog/ parrot

Jacquelyn Pope said...

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the laughs, they are more restorative than ever.

Mary said...

Thanks for the laughs.

Patience Crabstick, I haven't been able to knit a stitch since Tuesday evening.

Bytowner said...

What a horrible week, and I don't even live in the US, just uncomfortably close by. Grim. Spent the evening listening to LC tunes with drink in hand.

Waffle said...

Lindsey - furry on the INSIDE! ALL WRONG.

Jessica - it is a "Snuggle Bed" (sorry) from Charley Chau and costs the ACTUAL EARTH. No one is getting Christmas presents in my house this year.

Dame Eleanor - so happy he died before this shitfest.

Catharine - really? A rooster? I mean, I can't, we're not allowed, but I am intrigued. Does he not wake you all up at WTF o'clock?

cruella said...

No discernable change in activity/productivity level here, that is, low as ever. Stayed up for election results, fell asleep around 4.15 am, woke up to teenagers mumbling in the next room, something like "but he will never go through with it". For one sweet moment I allowed myself to think they were referring to Trump's statement that maybe he would honor the result in case of Hillary and maybe not. But, alas. Empty Brexit feeling all over again.

But! Perkier now! Pessimism got us here, let's get our act together and try better!

Catharine Swash said...

His early am wakeup is mercifully muffled by his coop which we don't open until neighbour- friendly time... He is as efficient as the ancient Roman geese I guess for alerting us to anything of note in the garden; also a comical sprint. Imitates birdsong, police sirens etc. Begs winningly for extra tidbits. Herds our cats!

Limner said...

You're funny. The Fat Chick and I cackled several times while reading this post. TFC tried to lay an egg as I read some of the comments out loud! I am so enjoying this!

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