|Sick Bay staff of Owl Towers. Nurse Ratchet, Doctor Roberts and Matron. Doctor Roberts is known for his very inventive and outlandish hats, and is wearing a fine example here. Matron is not wearing any knickers.|
Damn me if I haven't been signed off by my own medical staff - given a note for the Butler and ordered back to reality toot ruddy sweet. First thing this morning I felt Matron's hobnail boot in the small of my back and then there was a slamming of the Sick Bay door. Ruddy cheek of it, and me still weak as a kitten from severe wobbling of the nostrils or percussive farting of the lungs or whatever it was that laid me low. No talk of a medal either I notice. Didn't even get a lolliop.
There was mention of a "high colonic" though which I suppose could be either an Indian mystic on hash or an ex-Army chap livin' at altitude in Tibet. Nanny was waggling a hosepipe at me as she talked so I suppose whoever this "high colonic" is he's from one of the rubber-growin' areas. Upper Michelin or The Dunlop Valley or similar. Either way I said no, no I said, if you're discharging me in this high-handed fashion then I'll not wait around for another damned specialist, you can stick your high colonic up your Arsenal Villa are doing awfully well this year are they not?
Still, feeling groovy again so must away back to the latest manuscriptings with a vengeance.
Miss Q'ertyuiop has been champing at the bit while I've been laid up. Apparently they had to keep her physically restrained because she was champing and chewing at anything else within reach too, not just her bit.
|Miss Q'ertyuiop is a demon at the entypogrinatrix machine, especially when properly medicated.|
She does a lot of chewing. I have a supply of old slippers shipped in from Blighty once a month, and she shares those with the dogs. Damned splendid entypogrinatrix though, barely a keystroke out of place in the whole of the first draft. Must ask her to use the other rows of keys too sometime soon though - it's ruddy difficult creating an Opus Magnus Magnusson using just the letters qwertyuiop.
Anyway, whole thing's a bit of a mélange of fictional and scientifical notions, but all set on land (otherwise it would be a water mélange I suppose). Subject matter ranges from Moses hoofing up Mount Sinai and meeting the wrong chap, through a typically English plague apocalypse to an account of First [alien] Contact at Buckingham Palace ("The Day the Earth Took Tea"). Publisher keeps sendin' telegrams askin' for progress, all of them I notice sent from South America via the Marconi service. I suppose that means that Interpol are still after him.
Having a spot of difficulty at the moment with Heaven and Hell. Bit of a backlog in the refugee camp in Purgatory (which is just outside of both, a sort of a staging area). Chaps from the embassy doin' their best to sort it all out of course but with folk arriving daily on the packed ocean liners it's ruddy difficult accommodating even the First Class passengers let alone Tourist and Third class. Trouble is, you see, that with fuel prices as they are the heating's been off in Hell for years and Heaven, when you think about who actually wants to gain entry, is pure hell.
Anyway, enough of my problems.
Would just like to extend my grateful thanks to all of those of you who sent the cheery evergreen shrubs and rhododendrons while I was unwell - ruddy garden's covered in them. No idea who arranged them in the borders or even who sent the lovely established trees, but it was very nice of all of you, so thank you. So much more inventive than the usual flower bouquets.
Ditto with the grapeless seeds and the peeler, I shall probably keep him on the permanent staff since he claims to be able to peel anything from a banana to an apple (with appropriate tools of course and sufficient time).
Tootle pip. Deadline to work to and all that sort of thing. Needs a better opening line though.
What do you think of "It was a dark and stormy night ..."?
Well what about "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; roughly about a quarter to three on a wet Wednesday in Rawalpindi"?
Now that has possibilities ...
p.s. Also damned busy working on the sorely neglected Owl Wood Publications series. Back to Vintage Photographer duties too now, I suppose. Qwertyuiop my