1 Sept:
~The Test of a Marriage~
~~~~~~
‘Worrying is like praying for something that you don't want’...Robert Downey Jr.
As you may or not be aware, my husband has been behaving somewhat suspiciously of late; to be frank he's been a bit of an enigma at times. Upon reflection, it's as if he had lost something most precious; that being his fundamental commitment not only to our marriage but to our partnership. Furthermore, he had barely entertained the lure of the ale house, not even the one with the spit ‘n sawdust rustic appeal that he favours the most. Perhaps it was the situation with Muttlet I had pondered, on numerous occasions. I simply did not know but I admit that when left alone with my thoughts, I fretted. Indeed some might say I became ‘a little over dramatic’ at times, such as a heartbroken young lady lost in the world of Jane Austen and, at one point, I threw myself onto a chaise lounge in a style of behaviour that was most unbecoming, especially for a woman of my years.
Each day I questioned myself over and over as to what could possibly be the matter with him; he just wasn't his usually attentive self, not to me anyway. Then the thought hit me like a rock: could he be having an affair? Be it with Titty, Eleanor or Adeline? Afterall, he had once admired the latter’s stocking free limb, had he not? Oh my! What a scoundrel! My bestest years would be no more and to think I have devoted myself to that cad! I sobbed. And, as I dabbed away at my tears, my stronger self thought to seek a solicitor -without haste! A most splendid one from the City of London itself, why, one who might work for the King, one of those would do…wouldn’t it?
However, calmness induced composure soon returned as I was relieved to hear that this latest bout of grumpiness was all to do with his steampunk obsession; he had lost his special compass! And, what might be considered an annoying but temporary misplacement for others, had caused him to lose all sense of normality. Ultimately this affected his overall demeanour and I would go as far as saying that he had suffered a temporary loss of his faculties. He had asked me quite recently if I had come across it, only for me to reply that I hadn't, for I had mistakenly perceived that he had meant ‘a pair of compassess’. The whereabouts of his compass I knew for certain to be in the summerhouse, amongst a box of old gardening tools. Now that he has retrieved it, my beloved appears to be functioning on all cylinders once again and I am relieved to say has regulated his countenance and is balanced. In fact, he has returned to ‘inventing his inventionings’ and, although he is back in his laboratory, he has also been making me feel on top of the world in the way that only he can. That's the spirit! Though I, on the other hand, have simply had to endure such a stressful episode which has seen the birth of several more wrinkles. What can I say? Life throws us curve balls now and then. That said, I am going to keep checking on my husband’s well-being with a spirit level, I don't want him feeling out of sorts for a long time to come. Furthermore, I have three more grey hairs and very little in the way of remaining nerfs. Violetta suggested that I am in need of a tonic, in fact she recommends that I journey to Bath to take the waters. I'm inclined to agree with her on that one, perhaps sometime after the Christmas period has ended…
8 Sept:
Verbena LeMon is affecting my business with her commonplace candlelight & fine dining events. As a result, I booked a group of travelling troubadours for a folk evening which was held here in The Parlour. The doors were flung open to let in a gentle breeze whilst everyone enjoyed the supper and music; it was a roaring success. Let her stick that in her trumpet…she's not stealing my patrons! Anyway, I hear that her side plates are a little on the large side and her teapots far too small…
15 Sept:
~A Feather & A Sixpence~
On the back of that I decided to go one step further and hire a band known as ‘The Mystical Musicians’. They were to play at my husband's surprise birthday/garden party and I had been informed that the cost would be seven sixpences, a sixpence for each member of the band. I can proudly say that the musical soiree proved a treat for the ears, most notably the wistful sound of a lonesome harp (my husband's favourite). This combined with the gentle thrum of cascading water (stemming from the garden fountain) and glowing candlelight, all made for the perfect ambience and, as expensive wine topped up half empty glasses, family and friends made merry. After a while I found myself seated, so that I might take a moment. and, for a reason unknown, I found myself counting each member of the band…4, 5, and the last one, 6. Finally, the evening drew to a close and I invited them to take a box of leftover food with them (though they had eaten in the interval) whilst at the same time enquiring as to why they had requested seven sixpences instead of six, one for each I had been told, not that they hadn't earned it, of course. “Oh but there are seven of us," came the brief reply, nothing more. That night, as I struggled to sleep, something was on my mind. Tossing and turning, I was trying to put my finger on it until the penny dropped. There was no harp player.
So, from where did that beautiful spell bounding sound stem from? I simply did not know but a few days later, as I sat on a park bench waiting for Violetta to join me, a little white feather floated to the ground, settling itself at my feet. Reaching to appreciate it (for I believe in guardian angels) I was taken aback to see a shiny sixpence and, as if from out of nowhere, a gentle breeze appeared to kiss my face as the feather floated upwards and away. Furthermore, I could swear that I heard a little giggle, alongside the gentle strum of a distant harp.
22 Sept:
Caspar the chimney sweep has been doing his rounds as ‘tis the start of the heating season. Small in stature he may be but with the appetite of a lion. Unfortunately, it just so happened that I had booked him on one of my baking days, I had been busy trying out new recipes to suit the changing season. Gingerbread, cinnamon whirls, bonfire toffee and honeycomb treats adorned the kitchen top as I raided the store cupboard for packaging, wrappings and tins. Whilst Casper lingered at the doorway for payment, his eyes were agog at the sight set before him and obviously feeling somewhat overwhelmed, he let out a small groan. The aroma appeared to get the better of him and as he reached for support from the door frame, I stifled a giggle before opening my purse. “My, my…you have been busy,” he smiled, a smile that reached up to his eyes. “Have a try, if you wish,” I answered with a slight nonchalance for it simply does not do to gloat. Fifteen minutes later there was hardly anything remaining. My husband said it was partly my own fault as I had left him there in the kitchen whilst I went to take a call from the vicar, to whom I should add, I am still grovelling.
29 Sept:
Talking of sugared goodies, Areadne and Aesop came for cake. Although they are twins they are complete opposites in many ways. For example, she is a delight and he is not. In fact he behaves like a petulant brat and I dread him visiting so much that when I know that they are coming I break out in a prickly rash. Had previously tried hiring a helping hand when given notice that he would be coming but unfortunately the agency sent along someone who had obviously lied on their curriculum vitae. The lack of people skills and self-restraint demonstrated in front of my patrons resulted in absolute anarchy, a commotion of sorts; in truth there was much ado coming from The Parlour. I won't deny that there was a right old scrimmage which resulted in smashed up Portmeirion porcelain and stained walls. Aesop suffered a few minor injuries in the throes of it all and had threatened to report us unless he was pandered to for the foreseeable future. I said no, never, because he had obviously been at the centre of the whole thing, to which he snorted and threatened us with legal action. I retaliated and insisted that I be compensated for my vintage wall coverings as they no longer have quite the timeless appeal. The paramedics were ever so kind though, I waved them off with a large fruit pie.
~~~~~~
The Haunting Season is heading our way. I once thought I saw a ghost, here in my house, standing on the landing. Turned out to be my husband trying out an avocado easy peel face mask in preparation for a modelling shoot he had coming up. So, I will bid you a safe farewell for now, dear readers, and might I take this opportunity to remind you to lock your doors, secure your windows and keep all your candles very much alight…
Mrs WH
