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  • #755

    — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

    — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

    — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

    — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

    — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

    — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

    — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

    — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

    — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

    — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

    — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

    — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

    — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

    — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

    — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

    — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

    — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

    — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

    — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

    — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

    — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

    — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

    — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

    #754
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      In the sparsely furnished room that V’ass had allocated him on the small building next to the clinic, Gabriele Ferrari, local Eastern Arch-Agent for the Confregation, was lying bare-chest on his bed. Despite the heat outside, the dark hair on his chest, and the lack of air-conditioning in the room, he was not sweating —the result of a total control on his chakras, a training the completion of which constituted the first requirement in accessing to the upper echelon of Arch-Agent.

      That Agent V was promising, he could tell. She was still a bit wayward and impulsive in her decisions, but spontaneity was an asset in their job. Mmm, better not get distracted now. Plan B was at stake.

      :fleuron: :fleuron: :fleuron:

      A few years before, Roma, Italy, at The Confregation Headquarters

      — I’m afraid this Dr B. isn’t very reliable. We got reports from the investigations you commissioned on his past, and upon further study of his Internet connections that we…
      — Spare me the details, Agent W.
      — Yes Principate, sorry Principate.
      — Thing is he has shown some mental instabilities, and early signs of schizophrenia.
      — Mmm… We both know schizophrenia is just a pathological sign of accessing other aspects of self… Nothing that can’t be dealt with with appropriate measures.
      — Yes Principate
      — Agent W, you know what is as stake, right?
      — Err…
      — Let me explain to you very clearly and simply Agent W. The artifact that we arranged for Dr B. to find and access the information sealed into it, this artifact, Agent W, is of utmost importance. That artifact is of course well encapsulated into the computer machinery we have provided the Doctor unbeknown to him… It is thus very important that you ensure the good progression of these works. But, despite his… de-ranged mind, as you may say… Dr B. is a brilliant scientist, and his works must proceed at all cost. If need be, send him a local agent to make sure of that.
      — Yes Principate.

      :fleuron2:

      Principate Haniel was quite concerned.
      It was a mere handful of years that thanks to the progress of computers they had managed to decipher parts of the encoded informations. The crystal skull that the Confregation had retrieved centuries ago from the greed and ignorance of Crusaders had waited long before they could start to be privy of its secrets. Centuries of patience would not be thwarted by mere negligence.
      Strangely the information they had deciphered were related to genetic encodings. The genome decryption of most of Earth species had not yet matched the pattern that was found inside the chunk of information until very recently, in an unexpected breed of spiders…

      Hoperfully Agent W would take the appropriate measures, Principate Haniel smiled ethereally. She would see to that.

      :fleuron2:

      Auckland, New Zealand, a week later

      — Agent V.
      — Agent W. Arch-Agent G.
      — We’ve be summoning you for some urgent matter that requires a local assistance. Arch-Agent G. here has advised that your service would be the most appropriate for this delicate matter. Are you aware of the dossier Operation Spider ?
      — Yes Agent W. Arch-Agent G has most kindly forwarded to me the details.
      — You’ll be leaving for the island at the end of the week, after you’ve been briefed on the most sensitive details.
      — Details Agent W? I thought everything was in the dossier?
      — There is a backup plan that has been devised from our best advised consultagents. Let’s call it Plan B for the moment. B as Bee-hive.
      — Very well Agent W.

      #752
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        India Louise , standing in the draughty upstairs hallway outside Bill the artist’s bedroom, jumped out of her skin as Nanny Gibbon rushed down from her room on the third floor shouting, OCH AYE THE NOO! There’s a moose loose aboot the hoose!

        Nanny Gibbon stopped abruptly when she saw India Louise.

        Och, lassie, and what are you doing here in the wee hours of the night?

        Er…..India had to think quickly. She couldn’t tell Nanny that she was hoping to tell Bill about the mummy that she and Eugenia had found in the unlocked ‘Locked Room’, so she said: There was a moose in my room! It went that way! she said, pointing up the stairs from which Nanny Gibbon had just descended.

        OCH! The hoose is infested with moose! What’ll we doooo?

        India Louise looked up at Nanny Gibbon quizzically. What was with all the ‘Och Aye’s’? Nanny was from Brittany, not Glasgow, what was the matter with her? Then India recalled the Scottish Dialect classes that Nanny had been attending…..obviously with a good deal of success.

        The truth was that Nanny Gibbon was terrified of mice (which is how non-Scots pronounce moose); she suspected a reincarnational drama involving moose, er, mice, was the root of it all.

        India was trying to think of something helpful to say (and congratulating herself on her quick thinking, although she regretted adding to Nanny’s alarm) when a shriek came from the direction of Cuthbert’s bedroom.

        Nanny and India Louise raced along the corridor and banged on Cuthbert’s door.

        OCH AYE, what NOO? Are ye alright, ma wee bairn? Open the dooor, Cuthbert! Nanny cried.

        A pale trembling Cuthbert opened the door. I had an awful nightmare! I was reading our book, you know, the funny one with the blank pages, and I turned into a wolf

        Och, there, there, ma wee laddie, there’s nay a wolf in the hoose, it’s a moose!

        Cuthbert looked up at Nanny and said, rather rudely, Are you alright? Why are you talking like that?

        #750
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

          Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

          Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

          It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

          She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

          She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

          Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

          It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

          Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

          Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

          The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

          An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

          She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

          What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

          I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

          perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

          She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

          #741
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Elvira was tucking into some reindeer stew left over from Becky and Sean’s wedding when she telepathically tuned into Becky’s distress signal. Chewing thoughtfully, Elvira tried to make sense of the visual imagery she was receiving. She seemed to be getting a mixed message; was it a nun, or was it a tart? She reminded herself to trust her impressions, and not discount them even if they seemed incongruous or unlikely, and accepted that Becky was indeed in some kind of tarty nun trouble. The question was, where was Becky.

            Elvira pushed her empty plate away, and focused on the situation. AHA! Nutley Park, 25th bush on the left.

            Boris, I’m going out, she said. Becky’s in a spot of tarty nun trouble in Nutley park.

            Right Ho, dear, shall I come and help?

            Another image of popped into Elvira’s head of the see-through black mini dress. Er, no Boris, I’ll handle this myself.

            And with that, Elvira, sprightly old crone that she was (and fortified with mushroom laced reindeer stew) bustled off to hail a gondola cab, carrying a large carpet bag containing a selection of hastily chosen clothing.

            #736
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              What’s that, slow down Felicity I can’t understand what you are saying!

              Felicity took a deep breath. I am so sorry Tina, there has been a dreadful mix-up with the dresses. The dress that arrived for Becky was meant for another wedding.

              Oh right, said Tina, well I was a little surprised when I saw it, but then, I have no idea what russian wedding dresses look like.

              Oh yes I am so sorry, it is a terrible mix-up. Yes that dress was meant for a … well the bride was going to arrive in a huge wedding cake and then pop out the top . Oh Tina we worked weeks on it … and isn’t the dress just luscious! pure silk it is … and we had a ladder purpose built and the groom was going to climb up beside her and say their vows on top of the wedding cake on a revolving pedestal .. and somehow the dresses got mixed up … I am so sorry. Her voice trailed off.

              Tina, making a valiant attempt to contain her laughter, tried to reassure the distraught Felicity … well I am not sure if Becky even have noticed her dress, she was quite preoccupied with applying peachy glow mineral cosmetics when I last saw her. She has some unfortunate splotches on her face, an allergy to red fruit I think.

              Oh that poor sweetheart, gushed Felicity sympathetically. Oh I wish I could give her a big hug! She is such a sensitive one, I didn’t want to bother her, that’s why I am ringing you Tina. You are always so calm and sensible. What shall we do?

              Well to tell you the truth Felicity, I have been trying to contact Becky for the last hour, I can’t get through to her number.

              #735

              The last words of the stranger were still resonating in his mind. Franiel was feeling a bit drowsy and he had the odd sensation of being looked from the inside. A smile illuminated the face of the man.

              You are the weirdest man I ever saw. he said in a sigh. When he realized what he had told his guest, he blushed with shame. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mean…
              Hahahahaha. The man was slapping on his legs. Hahahaha, my dear Franiel, you don’t know how close to the truth you are. I appreciate when one speak his heart.

              Franiel couldn’t say anything. He was aware that he should have been feeling shameful, but the laugh of the stranger had dissipated that convention. He was just feeling in harmony with his creation. This last thought surprised him. His creation? He’d been told that the gods created all that is on the Duane, her sister the Murtuane and their ghostly sister the Phrëal.

              What was in the nectar? I’m seeing things. He frowned. Something in the surrounding objects, the mossy rocks and the earthly path, the grass and the insects flying or crawling around. The colors were different. Your eyes… they are… blue…

              The stranger was still smiling, not saying anything, and though Franiel was feeling as if he was communicating him important things.

              Something leapt from behind a tawheowheo, making the nearby dandelion seeds fly away silently.
              The creature was barking and Franiel jumped on his feet, making the chalice fall in the dust. It was similar as a mountain wolf, but smaller. Black and fuzzy. And it was running toward him.

              Don’t be afraid of Moufle, he’s my long life companion, he’s been following me in my exploration for quite some time in a form or another. He makes a lot of noise, but he knows his friends.

              Moufle was trying to lick Franiel’s face. All the love he had felt a second before was shaded by the need to keep the animal away. Not that he was dangerous. The stranger… what was his name? He didn’t tell him his name. Franiel was too shy in his normal state to dare ask directly. But he could at least relax as Moufle was now occupied with his master, who spoke as if he’d read his mind.

              I am not his master, you see. he was fondling his companion. He’s just choosing to come with me.
              He kept silent for a minute, snooting around.

              By the way, my name is Leonard.

              #733
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                When Becky realized what she was wearing, she wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She rummaged in her bag for her phone, and called Al. She would hide behind a bush until he arrived, bringing some clothes with him, she thought.

                The number you have reached is not connected at this time, the automated voice on the other end told her.
                RATS! His phone was switched off.

                Becky tried Tina’s number. Her phone was disconnected too.

                Becky tried Sean’s number. Thank Flink for that! At least it was ringing.

                No answer. It rang and rang, but nobody answered.

                Bloody hell! Sam’s in Australia, he can’t help, what am I going to DO? she wailed.

                #732

                Elvira and Boris were knee deep in mushrooms when the strangers appeared asking for food. Visitors were few and far between at the isolated old wooden house, but it was with mixed feelings that Elvira greeted them. It would be wonderful to have a little conversation, some news of the outside world, but this was the busiest time of the year and she hardly had a moment to spare as it was.

                However, she greeted them amiably enough, and invited them inside. Come in, come in, come in! she said, Would you like a cuppa? Are you hungry? There’s some reindeer stew left over from last night.

                Zhana’s stomach growled loudly in response. Would I ever! I am STARVING! Zhana beamed a smile at Elvira.

                Well, sit yourselves down then, if you can find a chair that’s not covered in mushrooms.

                Elvira suddenly had an idea.

                Are you two in a hurry? Would you stay a few days and help with the mushroom packing?

                Zhana looked at Sanso, who nodded. A few days with plenty to eat before their long journey, and a few provisions to take along with them would be perfect.

                Of course we will, we’d be delighted to stay and help, Zhana said to the old lady.

                Splendid! Boris will be so pleased! I’m a great cook, you know, if I do say so myself. As much food as you can eat in return, eh? How does that sound? Elvira smiled at her guests. My, my, girl, what a wonderful complexion you have! she said, peering at Zhana. Like a summer peach!

                Zhana blushed happily, and Sanso beamed.

                #731
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  It was taking longer than expected for Sanso and Zhana to find food, and they were weak with hunger when they came across the big toad. There was plenty of water; gurgling brooks and rushing streams crisscrossed their path, crystal clear with icy cool snow melt from the summer thaw. The’d found a few cow berries along the way, and they had chewed a few mushrooms but they wanted something substantial before setting off for the other side of the world. Sanso had left a trail of flourescent green cave lichen, to show them the way back to the cave entrance, which was to be their portal to Nishanti’s place.

                  Maybe the toad will show us the way to find food, said Zhana. Ask him, Sanso!

                  You ask him! replied Sanso.

                  No, YOU ask him. Zhana was inexplicably feeling shy.

                  Sanso chuckled goodnaturedly, and agreed to ask toad. He stood there silently smiling for some minutes, and Zhana began to wonder just WHEN Sanso would oblige. Her stomach was grumbling and growling and she was starting to get impatient when Sanso turned and strode purposefully off to the left.

                  What the…..snapped Zhana. She rushed after him, angrily shouting OY! Her foot caught on a root, sending her sprawling face down amongst the mushrooms.

                  Sanso turned, and couldn’t help but laugh. The more he laughed, the angrier Zhana became, causing Sanso to laugh all the more.

                  AAAH Ha Ha Ha! AAAHHHH Ha Ha Ha HAAAAH! OOO Hoohooo! If you could see your face all covered in blue mud and red and white spotted mushrooms, you’d laugh too!

                  Zhana started to cry.

                  There there, dear, Sanso said kindly, trying hard to stop laughing, and wiped the mess off the girls face with an old rag he found in one of his pockets. Did you know that Siberian blue mud is a much sought after beauty treatment in some places? This little mishap will do wonders for your complexion, you know.

                  Will it? snivelled Zhana, who had been preoccupied of late with with her adolescent skin.

                  Yes! There is no such thing as an accident, you know.

                  Well, where were you rushing off to, anyway? You promised to ask toad where to find food, and then without saying a word, you dashed off and left me!

                  Sanso looked perplexed. I DID ask toad!

                  No, you DIDN’T, retorted Zhana.

                  Sanso stared at her, wondering what was the matter with her. Then the penny dropped, so to speak, and he realized that Zhana was more familiar with verbal conversations, and had been unaware of the silent communication between him and toad.

                  Zhana, most of our conversations aren’t in words, you know, he explained gently. Listen to the non-words.

                  Huh? it was Zhana’s turn to look perplexed.

                  You do it all the time you know. You are simply not paying attention.

                  He winked at her, and smiled. Come on! The food is this-a-way!

                  #725
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    After a long but uneventful ride in the yellow gondola cab, Becky stepped out onto terra firma and strolled through the park.

                    Various fleeting images of the wedding party flashed through her mind, and she recalled the change in Elvira after the meal. She certainly tucked into that reindeer stew, Becky mused, Had a right good scoff, she did. Funny, anyone eating four helpings of that slop would be expected to slump in a chair for an hour or two, but Elvira had sprung into life. She looked pretty good for 121 years old, but who would have guessed what a splendid dancer she was! She put the younger guests to shame with her fancy steps, and tireless enthusiasm.

                    And not only that, she’d really come into her own when the drunken fights started, fearlessly breaking up fights between men twice her size.

                    #720

                    As the bride and groom were exchanging the rings, Al was brought back a few weeks earlier, when Becky had announced the little group she and Sean would get married. The initial excitement gone, Tina, Sam and Al had been given the honor to organize that very special day, while Becky surely wouldn’t care to be bothered by such petty things.

                    I think she’s already getting that distinguished snobbish style of the Wricks muttered Tina who was not so fond of being handed down these kinds of unprompted crottes.
                    Al, who was probably thinking as much managed a Don’t be so hard on her, that’ll be a mighty fine wedding, after all, marrying a Wrick has its advantages, we don’t have to be measly on the expenditures
                    Sam, a bit lost in circles, had acknowledged.

                    Well, that had been fun after all, at least Al was thinking, he had not needed to deal with Becky’s own mood fluctuations. As the only Sumafi of the group, he had willingly taken care of the list of the guests, and all the catering orders, while Tina was taking care of the decoration (bride included), and Sam was arranging for the organization and rental of the places and hotels for the wedding and its slew of guests.

                    Of course, as intimate Becky had first required the wedding to be, she had soon changed her mind, and had not resisted long the temptation to gather lots of people she had almost forgotten over the years.
                    Al could almost see clear as day — now the weather had brighten up a bit — in his mind his notepad full of Becky’s recommendations:

                    Becky’s family and friends
                    Sam, Tina & Al (of course)
                    Sabine Baina (mother) and Patel Mahapushtra, her new husband (a child’s toys mogul)
                    Dan (father) and Dory (step-mother; might fear a trip to New Venice, you’ll have to use some extra coaxing with her)

                    [long list of friends, snipped for reader’s comfort]

                    Sean’s family and friends
                    (mother deceased, father unwilling to come, pretexting his rheumatisms and not being able travel so far, but most likely unwilling to see Sean)
                    Sean’s children, Perry and Guiny
                    (aunt and cousin, Deirdre and Dorean Wrick) — Al’s update: they have unexpected guests coming back from Russia at their home, wonder if they could come? Becky: Sure!… Mmmm, Russia you said?

                    Now, finding some great gift for someone as easily distracted as Becky, and as spoiled as Sean was another ball of wax…

                    #715

                    Several days later, when the wedding celebrations had finished, nobody could remember anything about it, other than the jokes and poems. In true Russian custom, there had been ample alcohol…well, more than ample, there had been several hospital admissions from alcohol poisoning, drunken brawls and accidents.

                    Becky swallowed another aspirin, recalling one of the jokes that Sam had told.

                    As a Lord Wrick was driving down the freeway, his cell phone rang.

                    Sam continued: Answering, he heard the mummy’s voice urgently warning him, “Wrick, I just heard on the news that there’s a car going the wrong way on the M4. Please be careful!”

                    “It’s not just one car,” said Wrick, “It’s hundreds of them!”

                    Sheesh, sighed Becky.

                    As she poured herself another mug of coffee, a limerick popped into to her head.

                    There was an Old Crone with a beard,
                    Who said, ‘It is just as I feared!
                    Two Owls and a Lynx,
                    And a Rabbit in Pink,
                    Have all built their nests in my beard!’

                    Who had told that one, was it Sean? Becky smiled wanly as another one popped into her head.

                    There was an Old Abbot whose habits,
                    Induced him to feed upon rabbits;
                    When he’d eaten eighteen,
                    He turned perfectly green,
                    Upon which he relinquished those habits.

                    The toast popped up, and as Becky buttered it she remembered a joke of Al’s.

                    Most dentists chairs go up and down, don’t they? Al asked the wedding guests.
                    The one I was in went back and forwards.
                    I thought, “This is unusual.”
                    The dentist said to me, “Al, get out of the filing cabinet.”

                    #1898
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      tjmarshall57: hahahaha as if it’s not bad enough with the weeding, now poor girl has blotches all over her face!
                      tjmarshall57: wedding not weeding
                      tjmarshall57: do russian wear velis?
                      tjmarshall57: veils
                      tjmarshall57: hhhm, blessing by a shaman, plaiting together of the couples hair….(is Becky still blad?)
                      tjmarshall57: The biggest concern at the wedding is to have enough liquor. A Russian Wedding is an event where everybody must be drunk. No one will be surprised if people drink themselves to unconscious on the wedding – and many do.
                      tjmarshall57: well, that will appeal to Sean
                      tjmarshall57: You are probably surprised to find out that a Russian wedding lasts for 2 days!! (Well, at least. Some weddings last as long as a week, and this is something to be proud of and remember for years: it means the couple had enough liquor to go on and on, and enough devoted friends to stay.)
                      tjmarshall57: The Russian church ceremony is colorful and solemn but the complete traditional ceremony is very long, and as guests and the couple have to stand during the ceremony (there are no benches in Russian churches at all; people must stand during all church services), faints are not rare.
                      tjmarshall57: right, so a fair amount of fainting and drunkeness then
                      tjmarshall57: Then the witnesses continue running the wedding, reading jokes and poems, and sometimes asking the new couple questions to make fun of them.
                      tjmarshall57: Franci will you be my witness, you’d be perfect
                      tjmarshall57: “Za molodykh!” (“For the newlywed!”)
                      tjmarshall57: Traditionally money is considered as the best gift, and is given in an envelope. Some time after the beginning of the reception when people start to become drunk the witnesses will ask everybody to give their gifts and one of the witnesses will collect envelopes from the rest of the guests with a tray.
                      tjmarshall57: Then people have time to dance. First dance is opened by the new couple. After the music starts, there is no exact script anymore, and witnesses can relax a little. They still occasionally announce a toast but do not entertain the guests with jokes and poems; guests by this time are already having lots of fun and are able to entertain themselves.

                      Movements become quite hectic; some people go out “to refresh”, and at some moment in this movement the bride gets… “stolen”! She disappears, and when the groom starts looking for her, he is faced with a request for a ransom. Usually it’s his buddies who “steal” the bride. A more or less short wrangle about the amount, and he can have his new wife back. But he must watch out – the bride sometimes may be stolen a few times!

                      tjmarshall57: right, so we have drunkeness, fainting, jokes, poems and insults, and theft and abduction
                      tjmarshall57: Then there are the bride’s friends – they steal the bride’s shoe. The groom must pay ransom for the shoe too – the guests enjoy watching wrangles.
                      tjmarshall57: Often guests leave the wedding in such a condition that they cannot remember what happened. If this was the case with the majority of guests, then the wedding was a huge success
                      tjmarshall57: AHA! This is the key! I will write about it after the wedding, when nobody can remeber anything about it
                      tjmarshall57: Day two of the wedding:After the meal the bride must “clean” the floor in the room. The fun part is that guests are allowed to mess as much as they want while she is cleaning
                      tjmarshall57:
                      tjmarshall57: another part for you!
                      tjmarshall57: guests on a Russian wedding enjoy it much more than the newlywed couple who are all the time made fools of.
                      tjmarshall57: The most popular period for wedding ceremonies in Russia was between the Christmas and Shrovetide (a week before the spring fast). This period was called the wedding period.
                      tjmarshall57: well, the timing is right
                      tjmarshall57: One of the many superstitions still prevailing among the peasant population of Russia is that, on the occasion of a marriage, the happiness of the newly-married couple is not assured unless the parents of the contracting parties are soaked with water from head to foot. When a marriage takes place in summer this is easily accomplished by ducking the fathers and mothers in the nearest river, but in winter they are laid on the ground and rolled in the snow.
                      tjmarshall57: who are the parents?
                      tjmarshall57: Among the Koraks of Siberia a young man seeks for a maiden with considerable dowry in the form of rein-deer
                      tjmarshall57: oh, well we can have psychoactive reindeer pies, anyway
                      tjmarshall57: Kovalevsky has well shown that many of the marriage customs of this country are survivals from a primitive and prehistoric age when the woman ruled the household and had more than one husband.
                      tjmarshall57: hhmmmm
                      tjmarshall57: it all points to a distant age when the matriarchal system prevailed, and the brother was his sister’s guardian. In Little Russia the brother’s sword is decked with the red berries of the rowan tree, red being the emblem of maidenhood.
                      tjmarshall57: red fruit sync!
                      tjmarshall57: no wonder I threw the cherries away!
                      tjmarshall57: ahahahahha!
                      franci_free: oh hrllo
                      franci_free: goodness
                      franci_free: will need to read back
                      tjmarshall57: hahahah oh there you are
                      franci_free: well what a complicated theme
                      tjmarshall57: haahah well
                      franci_free: you will have to write about the wedding
                      tjmarshall57: the key to the whole thing is that everyone was so drunk that nobody can remeber any of it aftrwards
                      franci_free: hahahah
                      franci_free: great!
                      tjmarshall57: thats my angle, I think
                      franci_free:
                      tjmarshall57: and s few things fit perfectly
                      tjmarshall57: the red fruit
                      tjmarshall57: the time of year
                      tjmarshall57: the drunkeness, Sean will love that
                      franci_free: the splotches?
                      tjmarshall57: well, nobody will remeber that
                      tjmarshall57: afterwards

                      #2117

                      In reply to: Snooteries

                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Dear Snoot,

                        I threw some red fruit away today. A few manky looking cherries. I can see it’s a red fruit sync, but what’s the symbolism? You ate too many; Flove bought some; I threw mine away……

                        Hoping you can shed some red light on the fruit story.

                        H.R.W.K.

                        #2116

                        In reply to: Snooteries

                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          May I suggest, Ms Balls (if you’ll pardon me butting in again, Snoot) Siberian Blue mud. I find it to be a far superior quality, not to mention a nicer colour. It will be a perfect match to the Blue Diamond.

                          There’s always a chance there may be some squashed musrooms in it, too.

                          T.L.M.B.

                          #709
                          TracyTracy
                          Participant

                            Zhana was so happy that she started to sing .

                            That’s beautiful! exclaimed Sanso, Sing another one!

                            So Zhana sang some more.

                            Whoa! said Sanso. Weirdo singing!

                            Oh! Zhana looked crestfallen. Don’t you like it?

                            Hahaha, Oh yes, I love it! Please, sing some more.

                            Well…….oh, alright. And Zhana sang for Sanso…..and sang some more……

                            Where did you learn to sing like that? asked Sanso politely.

                            Oh, haha, Zhana laughed and blushed. Granny used to sing like that. Zhana sighed wistfully, remembering her grandmother. If only they hadn’t had to kill her when she got too old to be useful.

                            Sanso closed his eyes, feeling a song coming to his own lips from somewhere deep inside him.

                            Sanso suddenly felt sleepy after all the strange singing, and lay down on the mushroom speckled forrest floor and drifted into a strange dream of mice and birds and a topsy turvy world.

                            Zhana wasn’t really tired, after all, she had only just woken from her sleep when she met Sanso, but she lay down beside him and after awhile she drifted off. She had some strange dreams too.

                            #1687

                            In reply to: Synchronicity

                            Jib
                            Participant

                              HAhaha, thanks to Eric, we found the real Mr Flynn

                              And in the article it says that

                              An international team of 21 geneticists working with the National Human Genome Research Institute, published its findings last Friday in the journal Science after having studied DNA samples of over 3,000 dogs and 143 breeds.

                              #704
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Well, now there’s an idea, Elvira said, closing the book she’d been reading. Hhmmm….

                                Boris, how about a trip back home to see the folks?

                                Boris looked up in astonishment. Home? see the folks? What for? Elvira had said right from the start, Don’t ever expect me to go to Siberia! And Boris had never pushed the matter; after all, he was in no hurry to return there either. In the 3 years they’d been together, the subject had never come up.

                                Listen to this, Boris. Elvira picked up the book and started reading.

                                “….in May, Kerouac had written to Timothy Leary requesting some ‘SM’ or Siberian mushrooms, after Ginsberg told him that they would enable Jack to complete a chapter each day…”

                                Boris, we can make a fortune! We can stay with your folks. Mushroom season starts soon, we’ll stay for the season, dry them or whatever you have to do, pack them into dolls or something, and have them shipped back here.

                                Well I don’t know, Elvira….I like it here.

                                Oh pooh, Boris, we’ve been in London for almost a year, and I’m bored. It’ll only be for a few months, and then think of all that money! How many of our friends have writers block? All of them! The market is there, Boris! We’ll have writers beating a path to our door for SM’s…..

                                #702

                                There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                                It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                                A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                                Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                                Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                                A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                                Oh! Who’s there?

                                A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                                Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                                Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                                Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                                Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                                Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                                I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                                What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                                Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                                Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                                Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                                Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                                Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                                Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                                She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                                Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                                Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                                Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

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