?

Log in

No account? Create an account
entries friends calendar profile AT: Gate of Ivory, Gate of Horn Previous Previous Next Next
Turning, with unfeigned relief, to a topic other than politics…. - Wemyss's Appalling Hobby:
From the Party Guilty of Committing 'Gate of Ivory, Gate of Horn'
wemyss
wemyss
Turning, with unfeigned relief, to a topic other than politics….

 

I suppose it is time for a Report from the Rural Fastnesses.

 

I have mentioned, I think, my uncle George, his wife Caroline, and their brood, the Terrors of Lake.  Caroline is the daughter of a (very) provincial GP; her people have long made Bremhill what it is today.

 

My four cousins, from eldest to youngest, are, if you have forgotten (and many, many people have done their best to do, over the years), Anne, Mary, James, and Richard.  Anne, having married the Irish hearty and all-’round sporting chap, Michaeleen Og, is poised to scoop the lot: she has issue, which is more than the rest of us have managed or are likely to contemplate, bar, possibly, young Richard.  Mary, spinster of that parish, devotes herself to some quangoetic educational task; James, a confirmed bachelor of thirty-four, spends his days resolutely maintaining an air of unnatural youthfulness – as with Cliff Richard, I am persuaded there is a very dodgy portrait somewhere.  Or perhaps a horcrux – resolutely maintaining an air of unnatural youthfulness, persisting in being ornamental rather than useful, and dabbling fitfully in various crafts and arts in the approved dilettantish manner.  (Or it may be craftsmen and artisans in whom he dabbles; I couldn’t possibly comment.)

 

Richard is the bluff, sensible one of the lot (well, not that Mary’s not bluff and hearty in a well-known and stereotypical fashion).  He may even be the marrying kind (I’ve been too delicately minded to enquire), in which case the name will, rather surprisingly, be carried on after all.

 

Recently, Richard was slightly injured in a motoring accident, not far from a warren of governmental offices, when his ghastly little bit of crumply aluminium on wheels was thoroughly smacked by a stouter object.  A stouter object driven, as it happens – you can’t make this up – by one of our many charming unlawful residents from elsewhere (is Damian Green MP about?  He should be told of this).  I am not being facetious when I say, ‘charming’: the bloke actually did not scarper and stood the racket, which is admirable, really, not to say astounding.

 

In any event, this caused his lords and masters to send Richard off to liaise with the Frogs whilst he recovers fully.  This, in turn, caused Uncle George and Aunt Caroline, grudgingly accompanied by Mary and James, to descend upon the unfortunate Francophones.  (Faced with this appalling prospect, Anne cleverly managed to conjure a pre-existing commitment to bugger off in the opposite direction, with Michaeleen Og and Son Matthew, to stop with the Irish set of grandparents for the weekend.)  I for one will make certain in future that my trips to Épernay are carefully calculated so as not to run the least risk of crossing the Lake lot’s path.

 

Well, they are now returned.  I have often said – and the thought nor the formulation is original with me – that anyone who believes that Travel Broadens the Mind has never asked a British family about their holidays on the Continent.  Still, last evening’s chat with Uncle George (he rings up every Sunday night, whether I wish it or no) did reach a new and uncharted height of inspired lunacy.

 

‘And how was the jaunt?’

 

‘Oh, very nice.  Surprisingly pleasant people, really, and a decent bit of country, taking one thing with another.’

 

‘Oh, good.’

 

‘The only disappointment … well.’

 

‘What was that, Uncle?’

 

‘The food.  Very French.’

 

Sometimes, all one can do is to laugh.


 

Tags: , , ,

8 comments or Leave a comment
Comments
tree_and_leaf From: tree_and_leaf Date: December 1st, 2008 04:43 pm (UTC) (Link)
Sometimes, all one can do is to laugh.

Yes, indeed, though I must say that I prefer that as an attitude to people who loudly praise the food, and add 'It's just a pity about the French.'
wemyss From: wemyss Date: December 1st, 2008 06:34 pm (UTC) (Link)

I am one of those people ('all goats and garlic').

Well, when I'm cultivating my Colonel Blimp / Peter Simple / Henry Root / Giles Wemmbley Hogg persona, I am.
tree_and_leaf From: tree_and_leaf Date: December 1st, 2008 06:44 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: I am one of those people ('all goats and garlic').

I like what I know of the French, though admittedly the ones I know are mostly Alsatians....

Does your persona want the Angevin empire back, by any chance?
wemyss From: wemyss Date: December 1st, 2008 06:49 pm (UTC) (Link)

No, just a good deal on the Bordeaux.

I resist by main force the inevitable Alsatian jokes.
tudorpot From: tudorpot Date: December 2nd, 2008 12:23 am (UTC) (Link)

‘The only disappointment … well.’

‘What was that, Uncle?’

‘The food. Very French.’

You just can't make this up. dies

wemyss From: wemyss Date: December 2nd, 2008 02:12 pm (UTC) (Link)

Yes, well, don't actually die. I saw yr post abt yr fall.

Do get better. If laughter is indeed the best treatment, I shall endeavour to keep you amused.
tudorpot From: tudorpot Date: December 2nd, 2008 11:08 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: Yes, well, don't actually die. I saw yr post abt yr fall.

Not planning on it anytime soon, though I am obviously not taking the best care of myself. thanks
I shall endeavour to keep you amused.
Please do.
shezan From: shezan Date: December 4th, 2008 11:44 pm (UTC) (Link)
Epernay? And they managed not to bring back any decent bubbly?
8 comments or Leave a comment