I enjoy this blog. It gives me a good outlet because I have a lot goin' on in my brain.
It really is like a diary, isn't it? I used to have a diary when I was younger. My mother discovered it, and in doing so she also discovered I threw a ball in the lounge room and broke one of her ceramic-things on the pianola.
What mid-century ceramic is this? Answer here ...
There are so many points of deliberation in that sentence - What ceramic thing? Why did you have a pianola?
Why didn't you take note of that Brady Bunch episode when Bobby said regrettably, 'Mum always said, don't throw ball in the house' after he threw a ball and broke Carol's favourite vase (rhymes with mace)?
Cheeky rambunctious Bobby Brady ... actually looks like Child 2.
Squiffed incarcerated Bobby Brady ... allegedly on a drink-driving charge in 1997 ... hopefully not like
Child 2.
Child 2.
I digress.
As I was saying, this blog is fun for me. I laugh on the inside when I read my posts.
That doesn't mean I expect you to think they're funny. And please, don't feel obliged to read them because you know me.
I won't be offended if you don't comment, or you pretend you don't know me in public places.
Reading your posts makes me laugh on the inside too - and often on the outside. Thanks!But why DID you have a pianola?
ReplyDeleteBut I do know you in public......
ReplyDeleteDo you remember the rat that lived under the pianola with his cute little family of mother rat and noisy, scratching baby rats?
ReplyDeleteAll immune to ratsak and useless cat and dog whom we pointed in their direction?
My most vivid memory of father rat, was when my baby son, then a bit older, brought his fiance home to "meet the family".
Father rat wanted to meet her as well, and slipped across the red woollen expensive Scottish shagpile carpet , and stopped for breath under her chair.
I was sitting opposite on the very expensive Italian 3 seater black leather lounge and froze.
Do I tell her, chase it under the chair of one of my children who have become used to his friendship, or make her a cup of tea, and a martini for myself?
Well, by the time I finished the martini, I was ready for another one and father rat had moved on.
And, when it was time to say "goodbye" to the pianola, how sad it was to see all of these little rat skeletons just lying there, grave-wise.
The ratsak had eventually worn them down.
I was on the train this morning and someone was saying, "Have you read the latest on MMM-C? What a laugh".
ReplyDeleteI pretended I didn't know you.
I don't recall the rat.
ReplyDeleteIt was obviously there for the rollicking good times that come with pianola ownership.