A PARTYING OF THE WEIGHS
We were invited to a party last Saturday; I might have mentioned this before, I can’t quite remember.
It was in the large house at the end of the lane, right on the edge of the cliffs. The gardening staff have less to do on a weekly basis – they are staunch supporters of global warming.
The house is owned by Lord Weigh. His son, the Right Honourable Gerald and daughter-in-law, Mildred, also live there.
“Just call me Weigh, DP, no formalities here. Having a bash on Saturday – Lo, she is a terrible Goddess is very welcome and you’d better come as well.”
All the neighbours were there. Aloe Vera sat in a corner, glancing nervously at me for some time, although she seemed to settle down after her third bottle of red. Actually, I suspect she passed out – it was a bit difficult to tell.
I was happy to regale everyone with some of my best grouting anecdotes, but I suspect that the Pimms was stronger than it looked as most people seemed to drift off within minutes.
I had just got to the best bit, involving the energetic exposition of a technique I’ve developed using a balloon and a shoe tree, when the Ming vase on the mantelshelf next to me suddenly lost it’s balance and had a little accident.
I apologised to Lord Weigh (although I’m sure I didn’t get that close to it with my gesticulations) and ran back to the Cliff Top Residence and got my special Vase Glue – out of necessity I’ve acquired great skills at mending ‘things’ and have a selection of glues for every occasion.
Things would have gone swimmingly if I hadn’t tripped on the rug on my return and fallen down, squirting glue all over their long haired Blue Persian cat, Desdemona.
Mildred was very upset, the Right Honourable Gerald disappeared, and Lord Weigh roared with laughter. He decided the best solution would be to shave the cat, and appeared delighted to have the opportunity.
Unfortunately I never saw the outcome of this, because as soon as she caught sight of him lathering the creature up and stropping his cut throat razor, the TG said we must leave immediately – the exclusion notice served on me some years ago prevents me from being within 100 yards of a sharp object in a public place. I used to like that butcher’s – oh well.
As we left, I glanced back through the window. Strangely, everyone seemed to have woken up – suddenly they were all chatting in quite an animated way. Probably re-telling the best bits of my grouting tales.
.
Stumble It!
8 Comments
PLEASE!! I’ve got to cycle up and down hills for 4 miles then kneel in a muddy field weeding peonies, both things are difficult when one is suffering from laughter induced cramp.
Your job is weeing on peonies!!!! – I could do that!!!! – I am employable!!!!!! [If you see Winnie the Pooh, I dread to think what his job is, send him my regards]
Gosh DP you do walk on the wild side … Lairds and Ladies & RHs…. I am finding it difficult to take in that grouting tales would cause such a reaction I guess you are right it was the liquor…. anyway so was it a “Pimm’s darling” induced hangover you had on Sunday???
Actually I have, understandably, mixed things up a bit. It’s coming back to me now. It was red and white at this function, the Pimms was on Sunday when the coven convened again. I can’t bring myself to tell what happened on that occasion at the moment. Perhaps later in the week when the horror has receded a tad …….
it’s natural to get confused at your age ….*snigger*
…. and your excuse is …… exactly …..
blond!
Of course …… silly me …… carry on …. tee hee
You are quite the party animal aren’t you?
A bull (in a china shop) springs to mind…
I still maintain that the vase was on it’s last legs anyway ….. not like it was a spanking new one or anything …..
Most Chinese vases are imitations anywayssshhhh
The voice of reason!!!! …… hello Linky …..
Ha! ‘it’s’!
Still hungover, I’m guessing. How many legs did the vase have?
…… not enough ……. apparently
Desdemona – now there’s a name! Only the very best upper crust people would call their cat Desdemona…. Not you can see why my cat is called Max!!! (Maximillion on Sundays tho’)
The dog I grew up with was called Duchy – apparently short for Duchess and my own dog which I got when I was about 10 was called Tessa. It wasn’t until somebody pointed out that Tessa could be short for Countessa that I realised there was a pattern …….
Give Maximillion a stroke from me ………
So – you are a little upper crust too! Of course I will give him a fuss for you – he likes bumping his head around you – a bit like the Bumpy cat in the Noddy books!
I’m used to having my shins abused …….
Whatever lights your candle as they say…….
Desdemona seems like a name I could find some use for…
Oh good ……. or bad ……. no doubt I’ll find out …….
dont you dare leave us hanging, how does the story end? did the cat get it? please say yes…
As soon as I know the outcome I’ll let you know Nooter – no doubt I’ll be invited to the next bash ….. I never finished all my stories …..
Aah! I see….That exclusion order explains why you’re a bit wary of picking up that trowel. In case Aloe Vera spots you and phones the police…
I think Aloe Vera has got it in for me ….. I might throw in the towel actually …. oh, tRowel …. yep, that’s right …….
I don’t know about going back. Pimms, cliffs, razors, glue, covered cats… sounds like the kind of place a person could go missing. Definitely don’t turn your back on Aloe Vera. I think she’s using her age as a cover, just waiting for the right moment. But that’s just me…
My thoughts exactly Jamie …… it’s always the quiet ones. I shall rig up a periscope immediately!!