Ah, Jezza. Shall I count the ways in which I love you?
1. Your hair. Beautiful in its own right.
2. Your dress sense. To pull off brown suede is a dying art, Jezza.
3. Your uncalled for stressing of every other word; the orators of Rome would fall and weep, knowing any effort they made would surely be but a dying candle to your speech, sir.
4. Your bluntness.
5. Your exquisite vocabulary. (By this I mean cars, and things I have no real understanding of.)
6. The slightly unhinged look you have about you most of the time.
Yeah, there are six things...today's was one big nugget of wisdom- bon appetit.
Daphne.
Saturday 19 November 2011
Sunday 13 November 2011
Lest We Forget.
And with my love of Lieutenant George and the rest of Blackadder's beautiful cast, comes the necessary respect for our war heroes. So, with the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember.
Today I got up at an hour I didn't think existed on a Sunday, piled on a thick sheet of powder, lippy, and mascara to cover up my mistake-of-a-late-night, and pulled on the forties gear. Very nearly stabbed myself awake trying to put the poppy onto my black coat, and rushed out of the house to get to church for Remembrance service. I'm not, by usual standards, religious. But today I went with the Brownies (that I'm semi-incharge of...that might be an overstatement...I volunteer) and put down a wreath on behalf of the guides, although I'm a little too old to be considered a guide now. Church wasn't as cold as I feared. But my mind did wonder to my old Army Cadet det. parading in Dorchester...
Nugget of wisdom: the Germans took 5 million Russian prisoners of war throughout the second world war.
Daphne.
Today I got up at an hour I didn't think existed on a Sunday, piled on a thick sheet of powder, lippy, and mascara to cover up my mistake-of-a-late-night, and pulled on the forties gear. Very nearly stabbed myself awake trying to put the poppy onto my black coat, and rushed out of the house to get to church for Remembrance service. I'm not, by usual standards, religious. But today I went with the Brownies (that I'm semi-incharge of...that might be an overstatement...I volunteer) and put down a wreath on behalf of the guides, although I'm a little too old to be considered a guide now. Church wasn't as cold as I feared. But my mind did wonder to my old Army Cadet det. parading in Dorchester...
Nugget of wisdom: the Germans took 5 million Russian prisoners of war throughout the second world war.
Daphne.
Wednesday 2 November 2011
The Adventures of a Golden Slipper Woman, and Friends.
Everyone! I've not been buried by an avalanche- much to the disappointment of humans around me, I'm sure. Meh. Humans continue to confuse and repulse me, so it's no crying shame...
I joke, I joke. I'm a "people person" or whatever you call it. And today's post will be all about people. So, have you noticed that in every hotel, campsite, and resort, there is ALWAYS the golden slipper woman? By this I mean a woman who, classicly on campsites, can be heard at midnight shrieking with tipsy laughter, dancing around in a negligee that really should have been replaced with something sturdy and less silky (more, say, concrete) a good dozen years ago. In the morning you'll often find this rare breed nursing a slight hangover, shuffling around in her golden slippers, drawing on the end of the timeless 'roll up'.
Next, we have the camp straight man. Need I explain more?
The country bumpkin: commonly found near the Farmer's Market, looking confused, chewing on straw.
The Eccentric. Big hair, funny blazer, buck toothed, crazed-eyed, public school boy- well, typically, anyway.
There are many many more, but they will have to come later, as, quite frankly, I'm knackered. And I've been running off six hours' broken sleep for atleast 4 days now. 10.00 pm. Sweet dreams, humans.
A nugget of wisdom: Ask the golden slipper woman. She told the bumpkin, but he's shy, so you might be better off asking ol' George the eccentric...
-Daphne
I joke, I joke. I'm a "people person" or whatever you call it. And today's post will be all about people. So, have you noticed that in every hotel, campsite, and resort, there is ALWAYS the golden slipper woman? By this I mean a woman who, classicly on campsites, can be heard at midnight shrieking with tipsy laughter, dancing around in a negligee that really should have been replaced with something sturdy and less silky (more, say, concrete) a good dozen years ago. In the morning you'll often find this rare breed nursing a slight hangover, shuffling around in her golden slippers, drawing on the end of the timeless 'roll up'.
Next, we have the camp straight man. Need I explain more?
The country bumpkin: commonly found near the Farmer's Market, looking confused, chewing on straw.
The Eccentric. Big hair, funny blazer, buck toothed, crazed-eyed, public school boy- well, typically, anyway.
There are many many more, but they will have to come later, as, quite frankly, I'm knackered. And I've been running off six hours' broken sleep for atleast 4 days now. 10.00 pm. Sweet dreams, humans.
A nugget of wisdom: Ask the golden slipper woman. She told the bumpkin, but he's shy, so you might be better off asking ol' George the eccentric...
-Daphne
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