Sunday, 20 June 2010
I am not, in actual fact, a basin of any variety, as that would be absurd. In fact, I am WOMAN, hear me roar. It is a distinct possibility that the roar is somewhat more akin to a high-pitched squeak, and that it is more of an in-my-head kind of a roar than an out loud one. But the combination of indoor plumbing and internal squeaking makes nothing less than a Free Woman. And that is what I am: a Free Woman of the first waters, to be precise. There is also a distinct possibility that I have been a Free Woman of the first waters for a substantial period of time, but the jury is still out on that one (and/or I am ashamed of my lack of dedication to the blogosphere and am not prepared to admit it).
There has been one significant (or less so) product of my Free Womanly wiles, and that is the creation of a diary of my summer. However, being in possession of a great deal of laziness has not helped this to develop in any substantial way, so that diary is still only a few days long. However, I will quote a choice excerpt:
Thursday 3rd June 2010:
It was barely 8 of the clock this morning, when the death monster also known as H.R.H. Princess Megan Carrot dragged two suffering weasels into the great outdoors. And then there was praying, with an all-too-pyjamad David for this weasel's liking. The prayer was international-flavoured and delicious. However, by far the most important and thoroughly top banana moment of the day was the going-outy part, carrying in our midst a picnic of kingly magnitude, i.e. a lot of food, not a large king, as those are not quite as edible, and they tend to appreciate the eating less...Buses and a library, followed by Mr Ponce Extraordinaire in the Treasurer's House, accompanied by an Emily (or Eeeeemily) , and Ambassador Ellen on behalf of the Hamburgese. Despite being poncy, Mr Ponce Extraordinaire had done marvellous things to the grand housey thing and there was merriment and cheer all around...A roaring success all around except for the fact that the Eeeeemily monster was most uncouth and badly-behaved and was googling me left, right and centre in a decidedly outrageous manner. It was wholly insubordinate and despicable, and she won't be invited next time unless she promises to behave herself. The Poncemeister did himself proud, and picnic part deux was consumed in his fab and marv garden before the return home.
This post was written on 20th June 2010 and then vanished into a thick ear, but alas, alack, alanky! It has been resurrected from the fiery depths and here it is! More to follow soon!
*Please understand that no discourtesy towards the Freemasons is intentional; after 21 years on this planet I am still without any understanding of who they are or what they do, the saucy minxes.