I'm back from overseas.

Back to Coward's Castle and sad news that the Silkie Terrorist is, sadly gone. He was a dog with a sad history. Free to Good Home. But he had so many bad habits - had had to be put down because other people were not able to live with he horror that this little beast was. If bite the hand that feeds that was Chester. He was insecure and could have written the handbook of dog behavioral problems. I still niggle that if I move my feet suddenly he will dive at them.

Zara also had a fall at the West Wing of the White House. Got more FBI picking me up than Bush ever did. She ended up with seven firemen, an ambulance, her very own fire engine LOL, and seven stitches. She went back but this time they closed the White House. Guess I'm on the Klutz Files.

I had a wonderful time. Las Angeles, San Francisco, up the west coast to Canada and Victoria Island, Seattle, New York, London. From London we decided to make a quickie to Paris, an overnighter on the train. One and a half hours from London, half an hour on the train, you sit in your car, then two and a half hours to Paris. This meant that we had late lunch opposite the Notre Dame, meandered the east bank and lazed through the evening. One of those cute Parisian style hotels, and back to London the next morning. Then:

Washington.

Teeth went through my top lip hence the stitches. I am a spectacular faller. Problem is I am a dreamer. And dreamers don't watch where they are walking.

Sigh

Thursday 13

Late. Running to catch up...

13 things she sings:

Why have I chosen this? My mother used to sing lots when I was little. She did it anywhere. She had a good voice, but my God, I cringed together with my sister when she did it. She’d sing them over and over and over and over and over again. I learned them off by heard from the day I gave up a pacifier until I left home. Are we ready?

One and two are relics of my aunt’s wedding. My mother sang at the wedding. Sheesh. I still remember all those words, and knowing my mother, I’m pretty sure the quality of the pronunciation isn’t very sound.

1. Panis Angelicus (My aunt converted to marry her Catholic)
2. Ave Maria. (My sister and I did a mean little harmony on this one)
3. Camelot (and I suppose all the leaves fall into neat little piles)
4. My Fair Lady Carousel
5. Porgy and Bess
6. Carmen Jones (the Dorothy Dandridge version with the boxer)
7. High Society
8. South Pacific
9. Kiss Me Kate
10. Sound of Music
11. The Pyjama Game
12. West Side Story
13. Guys and Dolls

(Oklahoma, The King and I, Kismet)

So how does it feel to be an overnight success?

Great. Absolutely great. You wake up in the morning. Stretch your limbs a bit. Have a good old scratch and contemplate the success you are. How the book got written from midnight onwards. You hardly felt a thing. It's the stuff fairystories are made of. And you are Cinderella!

Hah!

There's no such thing. There's hard work, and rewards.

I'd hate to be an overnight success. Because without the hard slog. Without the knowledge that the top of the heap has another side to it where do you go from there?

Just thought I'd ask.

Coward's castle was invaded by Greeks yesterday. They say beware of Greeks bearing gifts, but one of them was a birthday girl. So I just thought I'd let you know it's a stupid saying.

LOL

Zara Penney

The Rise and Fall of the Roman Umpire

This morning, at Coward's Castlel, heard this day on the radio.

This is it. This is the final straw that broke the camel's back.

It seems that the Roman male stays beyond his useby date with Mama and Papa. In his thirties, Mama feeds him, and washes his clothes. She's long since been used to never asking him where he goes when she's not being subservient to him. She's even making his bed.

So the economy is collapsing under the weight of this kookey cuckoo.

The Italian Government is going to offer tax incentives to leave the nest.

As of today's date I have heard everything.

Coward's Castle is clean...

The lady of the house spent many long years growing kids, keeping house clean, homework, shopping, washing, ironing. School projects last minute (groan) and I managed it. I guess I was young and also, when it all has to be done, it just gets done. How many times did I pull out the ironing board at two a.m. and start. I could no more do that today than fly.

And I don't have to. The kids are grown, and both living away from home. And now it's me, hubby and the doggy makes three. And...

There's Anna. That fine lady who comes to clean my house each fortnight.

I'm always a little ashamed at my housekeeping skills. I really envy people who just seemed to stay on top of dustmites and dark corners. But I'm good at writing. I love it and couldn't live without it. So I do what I'm good at. And bless Anna. So does she. She's just left my house so lovely and clean. Like walking into a top class hotel and seeing all those sparkling bathroom tiles.

God bless you Anna.

Now I go back to writing. Goodnight from Coward's Clean Castle.

For some obscure reason long forgotten:

I, Zara Penney, do solemnly swear that from this time last week I shall thirteen, Thursday and diligent be:

So direct from Coward's Castle comes this delightful piece of wit, written by one of my favorite people Jonathan Swift, who also happened to be a personal friend of one of my ancestors...

Twelve Articles (wait - patience is a virtue)


1. Lest itmay more quarrels breed
I will never hear you read.

2. By disputing I willnever
To convince you, once endeavour

3. When a paradox you stick to,
I will never contradict you.

4. When I talk, and you are heedless,
I will show no anger needless

5. When your speeches are absurd,
I will ne'er object one word.

6. When you furious argue wrong,
I will grieve and hold my tong.

7. Not a jest, or humorous story,
Will I ever tell before ye:
To be chidden for explaining
When you quite mistake the meaning.

8. Never more will I suppose
You can taste my verse or prose;

9. You no more at me shall fret,
While I teach, and you forget;

10. You shall never hear me thunder
When you blunder on, and blunder.

11. Show your poverty of spirit,
And in dress place all your merit;
Give yourself ten thousand airs.
That with me shall break no squares.

12. Never will I give advice
Till you please to ask me thrice;
Which, if you scorn reject,
'T'will be just as I expect.

Thus we both shall have our ends
And continue special friends.

13. With such sage opinions
I will try hard with my minions
To adhere to all these things,
And to the happiness I expect it brings.

The 13th was me adding on to the man who has reached out to me from the centuries. He died in 1745 after having been born in 1667.

(bear in mind that in french minions is darling - but it does rhyme.)

The plot police

The plot police have arrested me. I am hostage to a plot! I am usually a pantser. Coward's Castle operates on Happy Accidents.

If you bake cakes please rescue me.

[From the plot jail]