1st April 2015
Bottled Love…
I winced as I read the comments on my previous post. How could I have made such a glaring error? No, not the one about the lion feasting on caribou… but the one that alluded to time travel. Thanks to the wonders of modern day technology I could, and would, rectify my omission. But this was not the same as getting it right the first time and my legion of readers, followers, trolls, pixies, and people who regularly clicked onto my website looking for a crossword solution [please see Calligraphy Tip No. 1 – Thickening Downstrokes], had been left bemused, baffled, perplexed and perhaps even a little befuddled. This was not what they had come to expect from me.
My head hurt a little as I fiddled around in my WordPress dashboard, I was still recovering from my Easter over indulgence and felt a bit sick, but a post had to be written, mistakes had to be corrected, relevant quotations had to be found, a Pot Noodle had to be photographed, a used teabag had to be ironed, the sound of a vacuum cleaner had to be recorded, and invitations had to be delivered…
Wonky Words 
Everything was fine until you started talking about the teabag. I mean I’m built to withstand the shock from observing a wide range of errors and a small sampling of grammatical inexactitude does not unsettle me, but ironing the poor teabag before, presumably dropping it in boiling water and then crushing it against the side of the mug. On no. Tears are called for and a few moments of reflective silence. I shall be looking for It’s obituary in “The Times” over the next couple of days.
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Good heavens!! No, no, no, Mr Ducks!!! After usage the teabags are sun dried on wooden racks and then pressed with a hot iron. The Tea Bag Collectors Society then fashions them into smocks and suchlike. So worry not, we can still enjoy a nice cup of tea.
Sx
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An error with the time travel allusion? Surely not. Unless… Taramind spent far longer than two hours picking at that tape and managed to subconciously knit a time machine with her eyebrows during her concentration? Then she… No. I’m not making any sense as the Pot Noodle photo would stil have 21st November 2045 written on the back of it.
Forget all that. I’ll just sit here quietly waiting to hear the recording of a vacuum cleaner wondering if I will be able to discern the make and model.
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I think I needed to make it clear that Taramind received her invitation in April 2015, and I have now done so, in a subtle unclear way…..this is what happens when rank amateurs such as myself start knitting with time.
Where is my Caribou? I think I need it.
Sx
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Ah, I see. Although regular readers (such as myselves) would know that Taramind exists here in the early 21st century as she’s been featured here before.
Hasn’t she? Or was that the result of the aforementioned time-knitting?
It’s all too much. I think I’ll join you in that Caribou. Ice & Tonic?
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Well I know some are following astutely, as I know you are, Mr Devine, but I feel that some newer readers might need a little nudging… and maybe a few signposts… I will do my best to make the signposts blend in, otherwise I will lose the random thread and we can’t be having that!
Sx
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Either way, I’m OK with the time travel stuff regardless of the circumstances.
Your loyal reader, follower, troll, pixie, and regular clicker onto the website looking for a crossword solution. BTW, what is 17 Down?
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Sigh. The answer is minim. I am only ever needed for my crossword solutions, it makes me feel glum. It is true you know, in August 2014 I had a spike in my stats showing referrals from Google looking for this solution. I am a helpful soul, so I edited the relevant post and put the answer at the top…. did any of these 3,000 Telegraph readers ever say thank you??? No, they didn’t.
Sx
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I was trying to make Cthulhu fit. Thanks.
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Thank you for the ‘thanks’.
Sx
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I seem to have got myself into a similar spot of bother as wotserface-in-the-attic…I know I was scintillatingly witty in the comments, but they’ve disappeared! I suspect they’ve gone into the wormhole in time and will come flooding out in 2045.
And that is a very auspicious (or maybe suspicious?) date.Also, my radio keeps playing the Londonderry Air, in a range of variations.It’s distracting.
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Oh Dinah! Yes! The voluminous pantaloons on the post before last! Poor Charmaine, she is still in the attic practicing her Cursives with the thingy… the Spanish bloke who teaches flamenco, who has very tight pants… I had quite forgotten. Better rustle up some gruel for them. And, maybe let them out.
Sx
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Darling Miss Scarlet,
We have to confess to being completely bamboozled with all this talk of hard and rigid, soft and squashy, thick and thin downstrokes and tea bags. Clearly we have been away too long and thereby lost the plot entirely.
We thought that we were the only people left in the world who aspired to the highest of domestic standards and ironed socks…..well, to be exact……paid someone to iron socks…..but, no, you darling Miss S, iron teabags too. Now, that is what we call standards or,rather,Standards! We are sure that our Twining’s English Breakfast will taste far more delicious after ironing so we shall instruct that this procedure is carried out forthwith!
Meanwhile, we shall continue to ponder on the hidden meaning of life, nibs old and new and minims. One never stops learning!
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Thank you, Jane and Lance for persevering despite the bamboozlement!!! I do indeed have Standards… and this blog is messy… coordinated, yet messy. Over the coming weeks I intend to rectify the situation, tie up loose threads; reach conclusions; explain the tea bag situation; introduce more characters, and let Chantelle out of the attic for a good meal… all will come right… I promise… I pray… I hope.
Sx
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Oooh… Is that a new Character?… Who is Chantelle? What is she doing locked away in your attic? Is she one of Charmaine’s little friends come along to help her with her strokes, or perhaps she just stayed back flirting with the teacher for too long after flamenco class and got herself locked in… I’m quavering in anticipation…
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Chantelle, Charmaine…. I warned her father this would happen, that one day I would start writing our family history and that I would get in a total muddle. If only he’d called her Susan – a good sensible, solid name. Not the sort of name you’d find in an attic with a flamenco dancer (whose name also escapes me).
Apologies, Princess, at least one of us is paying attention.
Sx
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crossword solutions – so that’s what blog surfers are looking for on my blog? Hmm what’s a 4 letter word for an interesting time consuming hobby?
Please provide pictures of the ironed teabag.
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Sorry, Bill, I can only think of a three letter word. It has been that sort of week… a comedy of errors.
I have just noticed another error… I will edit after you’ve all pottered off to another blog, nobody will be any the wiser 🙂
Sx
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His name was Harold, as far as I can remember from your last post. Or that’s what he told you. Most flamenco dancers are called Manuel.
Cheers! *raises ironed teabag cup*
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Leni!!! Thank you!! Of course it was Harold!!! All I remember is his tight pants.
Sx
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It’s all so verwirrend, left, right, Tamarind, Iron-bag-Manuel, Potz Nudel !
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Correct, Mr Mags, it will neverwirrend!!! *mad pantomime chortle*
Sx
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I’ve never found any good reason to remember the names of tight-pants-wearing flamenco dancers. I called them all “beau cul”!
Still, I’ve been following this little blog of yours for quite some time and every post leaves me as befoged as before. Perhaps that is why I come back again. I’m hooked! 🙂
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I am now trying to clear the fog… but it may be replaced by some kettle steamed mist 🙂
Sx
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