I am moved by Lady Percy 's expression of love. CLICK HERE - see if you agree.
Otherwise my novels, short stories, verse, family, music, memories, vulgar interests, detestations,
responses, apologies. I hold posts to 300 words* having found less is better than more.
I re-comment on comments and re-re-re-comment on re-re-comments.
* One exception: short stories.

Sunday, 8 November 2015

Hobbledehoy, pt two

There are three codas to my previous post about DRESS Smart casual.

As I mention in one of my re-comments, VR volunteered to take me to M&S and equip me - at her expense - in a manner that will meet this vague criterion. I noted this would be expensive but she said she didn't care. Since she will see more of me at this canapé/drinks occasion (I’ve accepted the invitation) than I will see of myself I gave in graciously. Only heavy rain yesterday kept us out of M&S.

Second, what I said about my wardrobe wasn't entirely complete. I do have a soft, rather luxurious tweed jacket, acquired fairly recently, that I had in mind as a fall-back in extremis. Good thing I didn't mention it. It turns out this delicious garment has been the most tragic victim of the 5/2 diet. See the photo for proof.

Third, Natalie recommended I visit M&S and spend on my own behalf, justifying it on the basis that canapé/drinks may provide raw material for a Tone Deaf post. This could happen but, more immediately, it set me thinking about a visit I made very recently to the dentist to have a broken tooth repaired. Although we pay a regular monthly premium for dental work, I was warned repeatedly that there would be an extra charge on this occasion, attributable to "lab work".

Goaded by the thought of this extra expenditure, I glanced round the surgery and felt there had to be some literary potential somewhere. I asked a couple of questions and lo! in the mysterious way these things happen, the idea for a short story dropped into my noggin: involving cops, a suspected murder and tax-fraud – all firsts. Now written and awaiting VR’s approval. See you there.

5 comments:

Natalie d'Arbeloff said...

Ha! do I detect a whiff, a slight soupçon of approval of my timid (?) suggestion in the comments to your last post? Yes, I do!

Lucy said...

Clearly for you M&S stands for masochism and sadism!

Roderick Robinson said...

Natalie: A post or two ago you said you weren't sure whether - after reading Tone Deaf - I'd seen BC in Hamlet. I re-read the post, couldn't see why you might be unsure, explained about ellipticism and let it pass.

Now, re the above, you say "you detect a whiff". Are you sure you're happy reading my stuff? In primary school I augmented my reading ability with the Mr and Mrs Peg series; would I be right in assuming that I "detect a whiff" that you'd appreciate it if I resurrected the Mr and Mrs Peg style, that large words are hyphenated or, better still, left out altogether? That you'd prefer a more stunted version of me as a writer. As direct as a sign that says: To The Toilet.

Can't do it. Complexity is my middle name, My train is bound for Nizhnynovgorod.

Lucy: Nah, that honour belongs to Dunelm - an aircraft hangar devoted to soft furnishings. Wherein I quickly become short of breath.

Rouchswalwe said...

Oh! I can't wait for the delicious short story. Have I mentioned that my dentist is a certain Dr. Bean with fashion sense. Yes, she wears the best shoes ever. (No relation to the British Mr. Bean).

"A soft, rather luxurious tweed jacket" ... my jeans are fitting me like that lately.

But the Germanic Bust remains. It's all good.

I'm happy to read that you have accepted the invitation.

Roderick Robinson said...

RW (zS): The story has been tentatively approved by VR; a bit of a problem for her since she hates dentists, even reading about them.

Besides which a mini-log-jam of posts has developed. First I had to get in the piece about sacred and profane love (see above). Which will be followed, after a decent interval, by a sonnet I wrote and polished in about two hours and which starts:

When was the best time? I get asked,
Assuming from my mask of lumps and lines,
That joy and confidence have long since passed


After which An Oral Problem (1532 words). Unless my muse, depressed by the lack of daylight, takes up permanent residence in our bedroom.

So your Germanic bust is all good. I'm prepared to accept this judgement but it would help if you solicited an unsolicited testimonial from someone else. No problem, surely?