Saturday, 15 September 2012

A Breakdown in Relations

I'm not very happy with people this morning.

Hnaef ignored my clear instructions yesterday evening, and brought me a cup of a powdered energy drink. When what I said was that, being very tired as I was, it would be really nice if he could organise Compline.

Young Keith responded to my very reasonable request that he should get up by 4am and paint the Moot House into its liturgical Camouflage colour ready for Autumn, by saying "I'll do it later."

I also shouted at Burton yesterday morning (in between Pouring Out Beakers) for being completely out of touch with his emotions, unable to deal with human beings and obsessed with counting money, train-spotting and keeping things organised. I told him if he didn't sharpen his ideas up, I'd be hiring an accountant with a personality. But instead of responding positively, he went quite white and spent the whole of the afternoon organising the books in the library by ISBN number.

Drayton Parslow from next door annoyed me yesterday as well. For goodness' sake. Accusing me of being "wrathful" and "vexatious". Just because I hit him with that fence post for wishing me "good morning".

Then there's the florists I'm trying to get sorted for Keith and Charlii's handfasting next year. What is their problem? I emailed them at 11pm last night to ask which precise species of jonquil they are likely to be using next April, and they've still not got back to me.

And I'm sitting here now in the dining room, and four different people have brought me cups of tea. And do you know what - not one of them has worked out that I want an Earl Grey not a Darjeeling. 

Honestly. Sometimes I reckon there must be a common thread to all these bad relationships. If only I could find it.


  1. I'd blame the West and go on the rampage.

  2. It might just be hormonal, which women and Arch Druids are famous for?

    That's the trouble with being an autocratic woman, people don't take you seriously, they just seen pink, lace, sequins and high heels and cleavage.

    No, better, if you want to be autocratic, dress in male clothing, cut your hair very short and grow a masculine beard and moustache (many woman made a fortune doing this in fairs and circuses). Apparently voice coaches are able to show you how to deepen your voice to complete the delusion.

    This will allow all of those helpless human beings to appreciate male headship in a new way, probably thinking that you are going through 'the change' in an extreme way.

    But you will achieve your aim. You can reserve your womanhood for social encounters of the sexual kind.


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