…should you need to do it
Pretty mellow weekend so far. The weather is nice, so we are off to the dog park soon. Gotta get an A&E zine off later. Might garden a bit. More bloggage later.
…with a big slice of fun
Ok, so every time I think I’m feeling better (and I’m not like, on death’s door or anything…just feeling drained, mostly), I sort of slip back. I suspect this weekend will find me sleeping and resting. Anyway, despite feeling like a mere shadow of my usual manly self, here’s the latest installment of Violets travels.
On The Road With Violet: Girl Talk
Violet thinks for a moment before replying. “That’s very kind of you, Professor. Give me a moment to discuss it with Lavender, please.”
Kneeling down and speaking in a low voice, Violet asks Lavender what she thinks of the idea.
“Grunt, grunt, squeal, squeal?”, says Lavender.
“Oh, no, I’m quite sure they wouldn’t have pork on the menu”, replies Violet.
“Oink, oink, grunt, oink?”
“Yes, I agree, a hot bath would be very nice.”
“Grunt, grunt, oink, squeal.”
“Oh, of course we would share a room.”
“Grunt, oink, grunt, grunt, oink, oink.”
“Right…fresh milk with potatoes in the morning…no alcohol…a hot water bottle in the bed. Anything else?”
“Oink, oink, grunt.”
“Just a moment and I’ll ask.” Violet turns toward Sir Rupert. “Excuse me, Professor, but do you by chance have any pigs on your estate?”
Sir Rupert nods.
“Well, Lavender, there you go. You can have a nice chat with some other lady pigs.”
“Squeal, grunt, squeal!”
“What? Gentleman pigs? But why…”
“Grunt, grunt, grunt, squeal!”
Violet blushes quite deeply. “Oh my, Lavender, aren’t you the saucy lass!”
Giggling (Violet) and squealing (Lavender), the two young friends rise and start walking towards Nelly, the Travel Terrapin.
“Professor”, Violet says, “we would be most happy to join you for dinner.”
Sir Rupert claps his hands together. “Excellent! right this way, ladies!”
After escorting them up into the turtle head/control room/sitting room, Sir Rupert gestures to Hercules and gives him the command to head for home.
Slowly, the turtles mouth closes and the whole machine begins to move with a rolling gait somewhat like a large slow moving draft horse. A few moments later, Nigel joins them, taking a seat opposite Violet. For the next few minutes, they chat and drink tea that Sir Rupert pours from a thermos into rather expensive looking teacups.
After about 10 minutes, Violet notices several pictures on the wall. Most of them show a much younger Sir Rupert in a variety of exotic looking places, but one shows something very surprising.
…now with extra frosting
Well, I’m feeling better. Amazing what 8 hours of sleep, plus some general resting and medication, will do for you. Still not 100% tho, so no heavy writing until maybe tonight.
By the way, in case I haven’t said it recently, I hate the fucking fall and Winter.
…not as easy as you might think
Blah. BLAH!, I say!
Not in a good mood. It’s dreary and overcast outside, so my S.A.D. is activating. Got a low level earache. Not getting enough sleep (my fault). Feeling generally like crap.
Will try to write more on Violet tonight.
…lust among the kelp
Dociverse 21st Century Update
Ok, so we were discussing the magical/fantasy aspect of the modern day Dociverse. Here are some random thoughts on the subject, since it’s early and my tea has not quite kicked in.
…and the amazon quite enjoyed it
Naughty Doc! Bad boy!
Ok, so I fell asleep last night and didn’t post any Dociverse or Violet stuff. I shall try to make up for it tonight.
On The Road With Violet: Woah, Nelly!
It would not at all be overstating things to say that both Violet and Lavender star goggle eyed and slack jawed at what they see approaching them.
It’s a turtle as big as a house and all made up of steel, brass, copper and aluminium. Its huge feet are carrying it along at a brisk 10 miles an hour and its head, as large as a gypsy wagon, bobs gently up and down. All in all, it is a very impressive piece of work.
Returning to her senses, Lavender let’s out a loud squeal and runs off to hide behind Nigel.
Returning to her senses, Violet can only say, “Oh my. Am I to assume that is Nelly?”
Rocking back and forth on his heels and smiling like a proud father, Sir Rupert nods.
“Yes indeed, my dear, that is Nelly. She’s the first of what I like to call ‘Travel Terrapins’ and it was Trembly who came up with the original idea”
Nigel blushes a bit and nods.
“Oh, don’t be so humble, lad. It was a bleeding great idea, and one that I’ll wager will make us both rich.” He chuckles a bit at that statement and gives Violet a wink. “We inventors tend to go through money at rather an alarming rate, or so my accountant tells me.”
As Nelly gets even closer, Nigel once again plays a short unmelodic tune and the huge turtle takes a few more slow steps, then stops and lowers its head. As soon as the head touches the ground, the mouth opens, revealing a short set of steps leading into a very comfy looking combination sitting room/pilot house. A very small, very hairy man is seated at the controls.
“G’day, Perfesser!” He says in a surprisingly deep voice.
“Good day, Hercules! Trembly and I will have things loaded up no time.” With that, Sir Rupert and Nigel grab opposite ends of the fying suit and carry it up the turtle’s mouth, through its head and down its hallway sized throat. After a couple of minutes, Sir Rupert returns and walks up to Violet.
“Violet, it would be my very great pleasure to invite you and Lavender to dinner at my home. I can promise you a lovely dinner and no hanky panky from any of us stodgy old bachelors. What say you?”