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Saturday, 28 June 2014

In which One will venture down the ladder to snog the MG…


Books are really, really heavy!  The Pinkster and One attempted to lift the first crate…

‘Stand aside Women!’ came the cry of the devoted Hubbster and with a single heave they were up the steps and into the back of the Land Rover.

Then came the fun part…

One, most unsuitably attired for a removal, tucked One’s frock into One’s pants (knickers Michael) and proceeded to climb up and down the ladder to One’s studio many, many times with as many books as One’s poor little arms could carry. 

The Count sat immediately at the bottom of the steps and got his tail trodden on more than once so repayed One by depositing a fur ball on the rug.

One’s new housemate stood aghast at the amount of stuff One has…

‘Blimey! What are we going to do with that lot?’ came the plaintive cry.

‘That’s not even made a dent in it,’ countered Lovely One, ‘There’s loads more.  We artists have oodles of accoutrement.’

Today One will be moving plants (One shall leave a few lovely displays for SIT) who are the new tenants of the Underground Lair, and if they don’t look after One’s little paradise garden One has made them aware that they will forfeit their delicious baby!

One will look classy in the extreme with the driver’s side window now stuck in with black tape.  This time Mr Jones has stuck tape over the switch so that silly old Lovely One won’t accidentally open the blighter again!

Any road up, the second car load of the day will be One’s shoes and handbags.  Each divine handbag in it’s own carrying pouch and each sparkly shoe on it’s own velvet cushion.

Pinkster and the devoted Hub have put off digging the long-drop latrine until tomorrow and are coming back this afternoon for books a-plenty.

The long-drop, in case you were wondering, Dear Reader, is in the field, the site of the Pinkster’s yearly gathering of the great unwashed for a mini Glastonbury.  It is to be hoped that the long-drop is more successful than last years ‘Turdis’ and the year before’s chest of drawers with a hole cut in the top.  (the drawers filled up one by one)  DIRTY DIRTY DIRTY

One would love to attend the gathering, but is too high maintenance for such a do.

Any road up, I digress as is my wossname…

So, Michael, does all that answer your kind enquiry as to how the book/painting/illustration is coming along?

Nada, Zippo, Nothing as yet…

BUT One is going to shut Oneself up in the attic studio for the next six months and WORK WORK WORK.

One shall, of course, venture down regularly to snog the MG.

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