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June 13, 2008
Better to arrive.
"A pox on long haul travel," said the Magistrate as he stepped down from the coach brushing crumbs from his dull fustion, glancing up at the darkening sky and stepping his carbon footprint into a handy puddle."My legs are taken with cramp and my baggage still in Plumhampton Minster where we changed horses." He was tired and tosticated from hours on the road.A crowd was gathering outside the store to see who had come off the coach. Only the child catcher has such a barouche of a vehicle and with his new carillon announcing his arrival he can make sure it is well admired. He seems more cheerful with the longer days.I had watched through the lace curtains at Aunt Trower's cottage; a delight to behold just now with the Delphiniums, and roses abundant over the door. We had been sampling the Elderflower cordial and declared it a disappointment due to many wet blossom days. However,with the addition of a three unit thimble of gin the room appeared brighter and Aunt Trower's drab attire radiated cerise hues.We watched the Magistrate meet and greet, pass on the latest gossip about the grand old Duke of York, and turn sadly for home, bagless, as the coach trundled on through the ruttled street and away over Hangman's Hill.Tonight there is to be an evening of whimsy for the Bracombe ladies in the cricket pavilion. We are to be pampered with bouts of free range reflexology,smatterings of Indian head massage and fully inclusive waxings. All for a guinea. I'll be taking my sewing stool which hasn't seen wax since Farmer Wurdle's bees were discovered to be pollen intolerant. I'd like to take my Parlour table but it is a weight, so unless Hefty Kitty comes by, it will not see wax again this side of Trinity.
The last time I saw that Round Table up at the Big House I thought it could do with more
than a vinegar wipe but the Knights are only interested in what's under the silver salver and Mrs Minchin's sight is little better than her sense of smell.
Posted by Martha at June 13, 2008 06:12 PM