Monday, June 27, 2011

And A Big Red Bow For My Bonnet

I love it when Whirl Towers plays host to weekend guests.

Gone are the workaday slices of toast and Whoppashoppa’s own tea bags, the paper underwear and the plastic knives and forks.

In their place come muffins hand-rolled into Greek letter shapes by Belgian TV celebs as part of a charity drive for abused donkeys and their trainers, top of the range lingerie that rustles like a collision between two distant gas giants unless you bend your knees like a chimp, and a collection of background operatic favourites so shamelessly highbrow and Italian as to prompt the corpses of slain ancient Britons to rise from the sod and make a beeline for the nearest Roman ruin, there to daub spectral runes of protest ‘pon the mottled stones.

Plus — I got to iron my doilies.


Old Kitty said...

I hope you crocheted these doilies! Take care

Whirlochre said...

How off-the-wall it would be to say that I crocheted my iron.

Problem is, I can't get myself down off the wall thanks to my last crochet experiment.

On any other day, I'd call the Fairyhedgehog Crochet Hotline, but she's on holiday.

Mother (Re)produces. said...

I'm coming week after next- you did get my message didn't you?

Phoenix Sullivan said...

I reserve the plasticware for company. Perhaps that's why no one visits? And iron doilies are de rigeur, of course.

Whirlochre said...

Great! I'll break out the bunting.

Are you sure it's not just the promise of having to share a bed with a zoo?

fairyhedgehog said...

I can't get my head around having special underwear for entertaining visitors.

Now I'm wondering what you do with weekend guests...

Oh, and I've just seen the FH Hotline reference. Glad to know you noticed I was gone!