So we’re driving down to Winchester on one of our Saturday afternoon jaunts, and I come off the soulless M3 motorway to take the old carriage way. The road the postal carriages would have taken to get post to the south and south west. The route the stagecoaches flew along moving visitors from one big house to the next.
And I am doing that thing mothers do where they repeat ad infinitum the litany of landmarks on a road; those that have personal significance (ah, that’s where our car broke down in 1989; that’s the Little Chef where I left my handbag and never went back to get it) and those which have a greater, more elevated place in history.
“Look, darling,” I gesture expansively over the steering wheel, “you see that pub?”
It is labelled ‘The Wheatsheaf’ and it’s a member of…
To all who read yesterday’s post and voted for Kate in Penguin’s Wayfarer contest, many thanks. Here’s a sticker for you.
Lacking stickum, it’s not technically a sticker, of course, more like a pin-on-er. And you’ll have to print and cut it out and provide your own pin. I hope you don’t mind.
I’m not quite competent in Windows Paint and am amazed I got the text box to stand still long enough to put words in it.
To anyone who hasn’t yet cast a ballot, there’s still time. Voting runs through June 24.
Kate’s entry needs to be in the top 10 to advance to the next round. At last check-in, Kate’s entry ranked 11th out of 20. That’s close, but not close enough. And it’s not enough to send harmonious vibrations. More clicks of the VOTE icon–that’s what it’ll take.
Our friend Kate Shrewsday is competing to become a Wayfarer, walking–and writing, of course–across England. You can read her post about the competition here.
Her video has already made it into the top twenty. Our votes will help toward getting it into the top ten.
She’s a great writer, and her blog is filled with posts highlighting places she’s visited: Jane Austen’s house at Chawton; the platform where Charles I was beheaded; Dr. Samuel Johnson’s house and the statue of his cat Hodge, described by Johnson as “a very fine cat, a very fine cat indeed”; and Horsell Commons, the exact location where H. G. Wells’ Martians landed. To name only a few.
She also writes delightful pieces about Macaulay, the cute and often aromatic dog, which are located behind a tab bearing his name. She writes about the cat Clive as well, but Clive is young and, though a very fine cat indeed, doesn’t appear to have gotten his own tab yet.
Anyway, it would be a treat to read posts from Kate’s summer walkabout. But for that she must have votes.
Kate is British, and therefore polite. In her post, she says, “I wonder if you might consider voting for me?”
I’m a Texan, and a former teacher accustomed to giving orders, so I’ll say, “Just do it. Now.” (Please.)
To vote, click the link on her blog, or the one in the first line of this post, and look for her name. She’s the only Kate on the page.
I have been–to use a term I learned from fellow blogger Kate Shrewsday–in a funk hole.
Recent events in the American political arena have had me biting my tongue and wearing mittens to keep from making an abject fool of myself on this blog.
Every time I started a post, I immediately thought of a number of men whose names I will not mention–yes, always men–and my chosen topic veered off the rails into an area I prefer not to traverse.
I felt like Mr. Dick, David Copperfield’s friend, whose attempts to complete his Memorial were repeatedly obstructed by the intrusion of King Charles’ Head.
Lacking Mr. Dick’s good sense, sweet temper, and ability to construct a kite from a laptop monitor, I went underground. Crawled under the porch. Played Bookworm for two or three weeks.
Bookworm is a good game. One evening I racked up 2,000,000 points before my library burned up. This is not a boast. It is a source of shame. But it kept me from posting.
I’ve also watched all the P. D. James mystery adaptations on Netflix, some of them twice. And all the episodes of Kingdom three or four times. I was so unhappy to learn Kingdom ran only three seasons. Here I am left hanging, wondering who Peter Kingdom really is.
But I believe my topic has once again taken off on its own.
The point is that you, Dear Reader, do not come here to read what I think of the current U. S. political scene, nor do you need to know about my obsessive-compulsive personality. Or my sharp tongue.
I prefer that you think of me as a kindly, marshmallowy creature, constitutionally incapable of an unrefined thought. Kind of like Jane Bennett.
And to that end, I found myself a funk hole and crawled in.
When I came out to test the waters, I wrote about cats, the subject least likely to attract King Charles’ Head.
Having passed that test, I now return to the fold.
Round #2 of A Round of Words in 80 Days begins this week. I flunked–if that’s possible–Round #1–but I’m willing to give it another try.
My Round #2 goal is to submit to my critique group every week. Period.
King Charles and the U. S. Congress can go fly a kite.
FTC Disclaimer: This post appears as a favor to my readers. Kate had no idea I was posting it, and she may not know to this very day. Consequently, nothing she has said or done, or could say or do, has influenced what I have written. Inclusion of this disclaimer may not be necessary here—that rule may apply only to reviews of books and not of blogs—to stay on the good side of the Federal Trade Commission, I’ll gladly write the extra paragraph.
Allegory of Vanity–Pandora media file is in the public domain in the United States. This applies to U.S. works where the copyright has expired, often because its first publication occurred prior to January 1, 1923. See this page for further explanation.