Sunday, December 25, 2011
Turkeys aren't just for Christmas
Happy Christmas to all except the annonny mouses. Hence the cat who will devour you next time the E-mail of your comment comes through.Ughhh! Christmas visitors included a lost dog, though unlike the three wise men who have got to the side table in the entrance hall 'Mollie' hadn't come far. Using technology not available to the Royals the owners were immediately informed of their loss. Mollie made herself at home. The only exchange of growls with our resident dog occurred when the newcomer lapped from the water bowl. I may advise the three travellers to bypass this area. Perhaps the drinks cupboard would provide a welcome detour. The owner turned out to be a visitor of a lady who lives up the road. He had the demeanor of King Herod with the word 'thanks' only just forcing itself out from his tight lips. Mollie obviously felt similarly as the missus had to carry her out. Her reluctance was heart warming, reminding me that this was the season of good will to men and as such The words 'Miserable bastard' may have been inappropriate and open to misinterpretation.
While in the vicinity of such influential dignitaries I would like to apologise for cheating during the Christmas Dinner game by looking at the label stuck on my forehead that I was supposed to decipher on the basis of Yes/No answers to my questions. The designer of the game had gone to great trouble to associate the labelled character with a skill, interest or aspiration of the person who's thought processes were ongoing only millimetres away. For instance my son with an interest in Countryside Management 'was' Bear Grylls', the husband of the game designer, an artist, 'was' Van Goch, and my wife was Bagpuss. The latter may seem obtuse, but we have a signed painting of the cat by Peter Firmin on a wall and the game designer lady played with his children when a child herself in Canterbury. (I hope I have not dropped any Clangers in the spelling of any of the names I have dropped)
My character had a beard like 'Cut Throat Jake' and was a wonderful exponent of the skills of the game which gives rise to this blog. For the benefit of the six wise ears only I owned up immediately to my act of deception. In fact confirming Mollie's instincts towards me I also removed the label put on the game designer's forehead written out for her by one of her daughters and exchanged it for another written out by the second daughter which was less derogatory of her facial features.
Do remember You A nonny mouses The point of this particular blog page is to warn you that unlike Bagpuss who left the mice alone, the kitten in the photograph will do to you what we all did to spam in the fifties.
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