I have passed an excellent few days in my parents' house underneath a pile of food, emerging only to watch the ghastly new "Upstairs Downstairs" with some close friends and associates, all of whom agreed on the following:
1. Downton Abbey was one million times better.
2. They did not sound one bit posh; not one bit.
3. There's no way Lady thingy would shake hands with the servants.
4. There's no way the under-footbutler would have come in the front door.
5. Lord thingy had a common mouth (my own observation).
I have no doubt that the producers, director, cast and production team responsible for this stack of televisual plop all watched "Downton Abbey" through a mist of tears whilst drinking cheap whisky straight from the bottle through a bendy straw. (So saying, I would put Eileen Atkins in a fight vs. Dame Maggie any day, and wouldn't be sure I could predict the result.)
But I digress. My fascination with the Hair of France continues unabated. Witness, if you will, this latest delight, spotted in a Supermarché (as they call supermarkets in France) just outside Cognac:
And what does this man, spotted in the Super U on the road from Rouillac to Sonnac, have hidden under his hat?
Who can tell? My guess is a rutabaga, but I have often been wrong about rutabaga in the past. Anyway, other things are in France, but rather than writing about them with my hands I will just let them exist, possibly with a caption, possibly not. Here goes:
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| The Saddest Sign I Ever Saw |
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| Cock Pie 2010 |
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| A rabbit having a tug on a snowman's nose |
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| The window of the local driving school. Why, Worzel? Why? |
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| Cock Boots |
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There we go. If I do not find more amazing French hair to post between now and New Year's Eve, it remains only for me to say: Happy New Year - and may it bring you exactly what you wish for.
Pip Pip!
NWM
6 comments:
I've gone my whole life without watching Upstairs Downstairs, so I didn't want to break my duck, as it were. So pleased I didn't miss anything good.
Thank you for the good wishes, dear NWM. I hope you have the happiest year you have ever had, even better than the last couple of years, which gave every impression of being almost totally happy. Maybe even the qualifier is superfluous, but one can always find a token moment of toothache or a surly bus conductor to spoil the occasional day.
I missed the 1st episodes of upstairsdownton as it's known on twitter but the 3rd ep hooked me in and I am its' undying slave. Loved it. But I live in a house of men devoid of all frippery so I'm excused.
Happy New Year.
I want that table. When the French do rustic furniture they don't mess about do they! Clearly the owner doesn't worry about splinters or about chocolate cake smeared into it's gaping grain. Presumably one just hoses the kitchen down once a month or so, perhaps with a pressure jet.
Oh yes, merry xmas and happy new year!
Dear Z thank you for your kind words - I wish the same to you, with an added cherry of surprise and delight on the icing of contentment.
Invisible Woman - I have to confess that by the end of episode 3 I was bellowing for more. True fact. I am about to partly take it back.
Redgrittybrick - check this out, right, it was made by my parents' mate Jean-Luc out of beams that had to be taken out of their house. FYI Monkeymother and Monkeyfather clean it "with a vacuum cleaner, and scrub it if necessary." They did not elaborate on when it might be necessary, I am glad to say.
FYI the blob on the table is where I wiped off (with a damp cloth) a bit of choklit mouse.
Also Monkeyfather says it's a bloody good idea about hosing it down. I am not sure Monkeymother is so sure it is a good idea to be putting in his tiny monkey mind.
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