Sydney Town was the victim of an unprovoked deluge last week. By the weekend he was glittering and splendid. On my way to the Leichhardt Ladies' Hostel yesterday morning, I chanced upon an advertisement for hair-extensions, viz. "EMPOWER yourself with the HAIR OF YOUR DREAMS, thanks to the WORLD'S BEST hair extensions". That's my Leichhardt: bring me your poor, your tired, your huddled masses, and lo!, I will empower them with hair extensions.
I spent the better part of the weekend at Chateau Wool Spaniel, which was downright lovely. For me. My poor wee niece had to suffer my belting out Handel on the piano in preparation for Wednesday's choir audition. My full-throttled yodel was eventually subdued with her tactful "I think I've had enough of this music". Doesn't bode well for Wednesday, but at least she called it music.
I made a guest appearance at the Finnegans Wake Reading Group yesterarvo, for scoffing of pikelets and assassination of plain English. I'm seriously thinking of setting up the FWRG Melbourne Chapter. I can fit the meetings in between choir rehearsals and Women's Christian Temperance Union assemblies.
* By the mid nineteenth century, dentures were quite the thing in toothless circles. Indeed, the first porcelain dentures were constructed in the late eighteenth by one Alexis Duchâteau (no relation).
14 comments:
WEDNESDAY! Heavens!
Dies Irae, Dies Illa,
Down with Heine, up with Schiller!
This next bit is used for filler!
Dies Irae, Dies Illa!
Er, ha ha. Perhaps ignore that. This seems to be the week for silly rhymes. You will be neither pleased nor displeased, but vaguely indifferent to know that 'The Electorate Batman' allowed me to make one of my best and silliest rhymes on Saturday.
And, er, good luck and all that...
At last! I have been immortalised in poetry! Thank you, Tim. There's nothing silly about a silly rhyme. My personal favourite is "hieroglyph" and "hippogriff".
You mean to say you've never been epigrammaticised, monologue-dramaticised, or otherwised before?
To not be dramatised is to be traumaticised!
It really was lovely to see you again. I hope you had another beguiling plane conversation on the trip home. Best of luck for the audition!
Merci beaucoup, Karen. V. nice to see you too, and your pal. Thanks for your assistance in pencil procuration.
I had a shoe fiend beside me on the way home. She'd bought three pair in a single weekend, the last, AT THE AIRPORT.
Never in rhyme, Tim. Not to my knowledge, anyway.
A shoe fiend? I am amazed at your capacity for conversation. I would probably retreat as soon as shoe fetishism entered the conversation. Last time I was on a plane I had a copy of the London Review of Books held high, plus an ipod if that wasn't sufficient to ward off any potential interaction. I know it's awful to be ao anti-social, but it always seems to be my luck to be stuck next to a middle-aged man who won't move his legs so I can get past.
Glad to hear it was nice on your side too. Didn't realise I was going to be trailed on that day, but at least the pal was on his very best behaviour, with only one kick under the table required.
I thought he was a nice pal.
It's only an hour and a half, the Sydney to Melb leg, so if one does strike up chitchat with an unlikely sort, the consequences are limited. The shoe fiend was pretty friendly, but left me to my book after fifteen minutes or so.
My last plane seat pal wanted to talk about the Scottish Enlightenment all the way home, this despite the ipod and LRB armour I also had donned, which says something about something.
Come to think of it I also had an Ian McEwan novel on my lap. You're just not safe anywhere anymore.
Karen and Lucy T both, the thing is, and I'm reluctant to confess this, but I am the one who won't let go of the discussion about the Scottish Enlightenment. I am an incorrigible chatterer to persons on public transport. If they have a book to read, so much the better: we can talk about that.
Best and silliest rhymes?
Those dentures remind me,
When you're gappy and you know it, read a blog!
When you're gappy and you know it, preferably one about a dog!
When you're gappy and you know it, and you really don't want to blow it,
Read, blog, but fon't post under the influence of heavy grog!
Yee Har!
You're inspired, Maria. More power to the paternal tooth.
It's not so big a confession, Alexis. My nice pal you met is the same. We were on a plane once and he started up a conversation about sudoku with the businessman beside him and then, crime of crimes, tried to draw me into the conversation. If one's possession of the LRB or McEwan draws conversation about the Scottish Enlightenment rather than sudoku I am deeply grateful. I think I just haven't been blessed with the right plane conversation. Most plane conversations I've had have revolved around my American neighbour's surprise that I am not English and subsequent questioning as to whether I am sure that I really am not English.
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