Friday, August 18, 2006

The long and winding path

It could be said that when it comes to unexpected guests I fail to rise to the occasion with aplomb. It could even be that my instincts are, in fact, to run and hide within the comfy confines of my bed, tucking up my toes, and whispering ‘if I can’t see them, they can’t see me, if I can’t see them, I can’t see me, no, wait’. Lately, however, I’ve been inclined otherwise.

Today was an otherwise ordinary day. I raised myself from my bed before realising that it was hideously early and I really ought to nap a while longer – so I went back to bed and napped a while longer. I, most unfortunately, made it work on time. I, even more unfortunately, worked – though not to the best of my ability, I’m having end of week lag. Once that session of incredible boredom was over I hitched a ride home and hooked up my addiction to see what the rest of the world had done. Then there came a knock to the wall and I wandered over to see what the matter was. There were people perched upon the doorstop that was having delusions of wallness. The doorstop was the one having the delusions but the people seemed inclined to be part of it. I waved from my window (you didn’t think I’d open the door to such strangers, did you?) and exchanged a minor and nonsensical greeting with a slightly bruised young fellow. My instincts numbed by boredom and confronted with the ragtag and motley crew who together form Burgher Russell’s band of travelling troubadours (or is that tarts? I’m having some trouble with T words) I threw caution to the wind and opened the door. After that, it was all I could do to stutter a weak and poorly accented ‘Bonjour Messieurs & Mesdames’ and prop the poorly located door open. ‘Do come inside, it’s a pleasure to meet you.’
Opening the door before hosing down my, I’m sure, esteemed guests proved a mistake. It was clear that they had been travelling for some time and knowing, in my own small way, the perils of travel I offered up the most gentle of suggestions about the beauty of the facilities, one area in which the renovation has gone well, and the freshness of the towels. ‘Out the back,’ I cried. ‘No, the other back.’ And was once more alone and able to make my abode fit for company and/or general habitation.
It was a sweeter scented and overly giggly bunch who later trouped into my parlour. Where I used my weak and poorly accented English to offer them refreshment and, inadvertently, I’m sure, a place to call their own for as long as it was needed. (English, it turns out, is an awkward way of offering hospitality to strangers – one comes over all uptight and foolish and makes offers beyond what is really meant. It an also be awkward for just explaining things.) At that point, however, their little eyes engaged in a collective doze and they slumped rather rudely (I rather forgot to offer them fresh clothing and the poor dears were too polite to ask) about the room on any number of soft, squishy, and over-stuffed things. After removing myself from beneath one who had clearly mistaken me for a very modern sofa, I stoked the fire and left the room. Mayhap we will resume on the morrow...

22 comments:

Armagnac Esq said...

*thump*

Aha, hairy tis!

I bring myself, my musket, and perched on my shoulder is my muse. Must, introduce thyself...

Don Quixote said...

I bring forth my steely blade; sheathed of course.

What's this? Communist cats! By the Knights of the Round Table, even the cats of gone over!! A red feline tide will surely wash us all away.

Now, where are these strange travelers?

Anonymous said...

*SHAZAAM*

(cloud of smoke)

I hath arrived and I sense the other stragglers are around here somewhere...

Anonymous said...

I'm here... relaxed, showered, and graciously received. For what more could a weary traveller ask?

How are you Don Quixote? Have you recovered from your untimely lapse in physical well-being?

Shelley said...

*offers a hand laden with salmony goodness to Mao*

Muse away, Master Armaniac, though put away your musket for I fear you missed that part of proceedings.

Is the present company not strange enough, le Don? We have a musket waver and a blogging feline, what more could you want?

Enny and Burgher Russell, I wait with bated breath the story of your travels. Or, indeed, any that you care to spew forth.

TimT said...

With care and tenderness (not to mention fermented liquors of divers types), I'm sure we can relieve Don of his current state of ebriation, and bring forth his ailments anew.

Don Quixote said...

I am positively capital, fair Burgher - the ailments have been cast aside. I may, however, find new ailments over the course of this weekend...

Shelley said...

Don, feel free to share your weekend ailments unless they are of the kind that require a penicillin cure.

Anonymous said...

I am pleased to hear that Don Q.

As for tales of our quest nailpolishblues... we have a minstrel who shall (hopefully) find her way here and tell the somewhat short, and mostly unremarkable tale of how we came to be here.

Perhaps while we wait you can tell us how and why you chose to set up your blogging abode?

Anonymous said...

*snores* mumble mumble...quest... mumble...rhubarb...
*frowns in sleep; groans*...thesis....mumble
*snorts awake*

*starts at naked bodies strewn around the room*

*hides rudebits behind conspicuous indoor plant*

what ho, my fellow questrians! It appears I drifted off after my overdue (and much appreciated) ablutions.

Cool wall/door Nails, like your style. Surrealist abodes are good for taking the edge off (if, indeed, any edge was on to start with).

*listens*

I hear the sweet sound of song in the distance. I hope it is the lilting tunes of our dear, but momentarily displaced, bard - our Eastern Starling.

I just found the last of the Suggestios at the bottem of my coat pocket, anyone want one?
*proffers Suggestios(tm)*

Shelley said...

*politely offers a round of clothing and another of dainty sandwiches*

*takes a suggestion, rolls, and lights it*

Ahhh that's better...

Why did I set up my blogging abode, good Burgher? Oddly enough this is a question that I'm not entirely sure I can answer. It has more than a little something to do with vanity. A very little to do with reciprocity as I had been reading long before I began my own journey.
I think mostly it was opportunity - having my own computer for the first time in years and having met, one by chance and one as a colleague, other bloggers. They rather got me interested. Then boredom and narcissism got involved and I thought to share my[reasonably well hidden]self with the world. Well, a virtual world whose inhabitants, for the most part, couldn't recognise me in the street.
That and the common-to-the-point-of-banality reason that it provides the opportunity to write and be read.
I think I may have answered the question despite my protestation. There lurks a reason that I cannot quite explain but am quite sure reflects quite badly on me. I wish it were something I could define.

Goodness, your little eyes have glazed...anyone for another little drink?

Shelley said...

Oh, I misread Suggestios(tm) - how typical! Still, they smoke-up awful well...

Anonymous said...

*puff*
I never thought of consuming them in such a manner, but I rather like it - all the coolness (soon everyone will be smoking Suggestios(tm)), none of the lung cancer. Thumbs up to your Suggestio suggestion, Nails.
*puff*

Enny said...

tokes Tokes TOKES!

*lame* ;o)

Don Quixote said...

Hey! Puff puff give!!

Shelley said...

*can see that this isn't going to progress*

*oh well*

*lol*

Anonymous said...

I am not sure reasons, even hidden ones, can reflect badly on oneself. Blogging is so intensely personal, and yet also not, that any reason is, at worst, merely part of yourself. I, for instance, have an obsession with my traffic. Not that I want any, merely that I like to watch it roll in, nodding at the people I know, staring suspiciously at those I don't...

Alas, it being a new week, we must soon be leaving you. Might you be so kind as to suggest a new destination from amongst your sundry blogging acquaintances? Our minstrel may soon arrive and recap our journey, but lest she doesn't, we've so far been to the homes of Erica, the Sterne brothers, Timothy T, Armagnac'd, and Don Quixote. So, anywhere but there.

Shelley said...

I have two suggestions, depending on how far you wish to travel. The farther is to Adam's nest of debauchery at Not Going Nowhere. And is the one I'd be more likely to invade as I suspect that my other choice has, possibly, a bit too much on his mind right now. The second of my choices is the locally located Johnny the Horse [he gives damn fine trivia]. I can recommend both as drinking companions ;)
Actually, I think I could suggest a few more...
I put it to a vote then!

Anonymous said...

I vote we go to the one that doesn't have photos of a half naked chick - I can tell she's almost as competative as me, and I don't think she'd appreciate it when I upstaged her in my chainmail bikini and thigh-high black leather boots!

Shelley said...

Competitive? I thought she was just incredibly ugly. I'm afraid I didn't get past that to think what she may be like.

Anonymous said...

Play nice miladies.

I don't mind, though I'd prefer not to spend the week entertaining ourselves. Does anyone actually have a strong preference, or should we flip a coin?

Armagnac Esq said...

Hoy!

*blinks several times*

Where am I? Oh, here still. Nice abode, indeed, but time to trundle.

I competition between half-naked maidens is not to be scoffed at, for my 2 shekels worth.