28 May 2007
181
R. Linda:
Ah, the memories, they are coming back. I should have kept a better journal, but the bits do come as I reread some of me more prominent adventures. With this frame of mine, let me continue with some lesser moments.
It was after the hotel's bizarre water system revelation and after the "child" with the salami in her underwear situation that we came to the Windsor bizarre event. That afternoon of the same day of the salami situation, I had wanted to see Windsor Castle because I'd seen it when very young and for old time's sake, you know. I whined about it until me two companions decided the only way to shut my gob was to take me there. This they did. We borrowed Weasil's father's automobile and set off in style. A Bentley in the hands of Weasil is a strange thing to see. But I digress, we set off in the direction of said castle.
We drove in style through a few small towns not far outside London when I saw before me a rather overgrown grassy park that went on for miles. I knew we were not far from the sainted castle. Then suddenly before me was the castle proper way up the park lawns, looking like something out of a faerytale. Tall, grey, majestic, the green lawns almost as emerald as the ones I remembered back home. I pointed like a child and shouted from the backseat, "There it is!"
"Nup, nup, nup," Weasil said, "dat dere is Cinderelli's castle. We be in Disneyland UK, Gabe," then he laughed at his stupid joke.
I wanted to hit him in the back of the head, but he was driving and knowing him, we'd have that Bentley smashed into a tree, and it would be my fault. What a buffoon was all I could think as I took in the wonder of the castle getting closer and closer. Jordie was looking out the side window of the passenger side, one hand holding up his head, which told me he was finding Weas annoying and probably thinking of all the other things he could be doing Weasil-free in London.
As we were pulling up into the park area, police stopped us. All illusions of fantasyland broke into a million fragments as me heart sunk to me boots, thinking, oh no, this can't be happening, it's the salami thing, or worse, Weasil's father reported his expensive motor missing, and we were about to spend the rest of holiday in the nick.
Jordie rolled down his window as Weasil went rummaging for car insurance, license, and what-have-you while I sat in the back with my eyes closed, feigning sleep. I just couldn't put up with another session of this crazy stuff that seemed to follow Weasil anywhere he went.
"Hello! We wonder if you have by any chance seen a van hereabouts?" The pleasant-faced officer inquired.
"Uh, what kind of van?" Jordie asked, confused.
"Well, if I told you that, I'd be giving out pertinent information to the public." The man said.
Jordie sighed heavily and said, " How can I help you if I don't know what kind of van it is?"
"Well, it is a stolen van," the officer replied.
Jordie looked over his shoulder at me and whispered, "Is it me, or am I dealing with morons today?"
I shook me head, eyes half closed, in an "I don't know" fashion because I was thinking I actually was in fantasyland.
"Sorry, officer, but I have seen vans along the way, but I don't know if any were stolen," Jordie said pleasantly.
The officer leaned his arms on the door, his voice low and personal, he said, "I know it seems bloody inconvenient, but you see here we are handicapped in the search for the thing because Special Branch doesn't want the public to know what the bloody thing looks like. Do ya see?"
I know it took all of the resolve Jordie had in his body not to burst out laughing, "Ah, and so it 'tis officer. They cannot issue a description of it. Aye, and so it is. Sorry, we can't be more help."
The officer straightened up and gave us a small salute before sending us on our way.
Once we were well out of the officer's sight, we burst into gales of laughter that continued throughout the rest of the day. I swear people must have thought we were escapees from the loony bin the way we'd be fine one moment and in stitches the next. Sadly, that is all I can remember of the highlights of seeing Windsor Castle. It be a blur all but the laughter and that's not such a bad ting (thing). I know these are not uproarious funny to you, but you needed to be there for sure.
Gabe
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Ah, the memories, they are coming back. I should have kept a better journal, but the bits do come as I reread some of me more prominent adventures. With this frame of mine, let me continue with some lesser moments.
It was after the hotel's bizarre water system revelation and after the "child" with the salami in her underwear situation that we came to the Windsor bizarre event. That afternoon of the same day of the salami situation, I had wanted to see Windsor Castle because I'd seen it when very young and for old time's sake, you know. I whined about it until me two companions decided the only way to shut my gob was to take me there. This they did. We borrowed Weasil's father's automobile and set off in style. A Bentley in the hands of Weasil is a strange thing to see. But I digress, we set off in the direction of said castle.
We drove in style through a few small towns not far outside London when I saw before me a rather overgrown grassy park that went on for miles. I knew we were not far from the sainted castle. Then suddenly before me was the castle proper way up the park lawns, looking like something out of a faerytale. Tall, grey, majestic, the green lawns almost as emerald as the ones I remembered back home. I pointed like a child and shouted from the backseat, "There it is!"
"Nup, nup, nup," Weasil said, "dat dere is Cinderelli's castle. We be in Disneyland UK, Gabe," then he laughed at his stupid joke.
I wanted to hit him in the back of the head, but he was driving and knowing him, we'd have that Bentley smashed into a tree, and it would be my fault. What a buffoon was all I could think as I took in the wonder of the castle getting closer and closer. Jordie was looking out the side window of the passenger side, one hand holding up his head, which told me he was finding Weas annoying and probably thinking of all the other things he could be doing Weasil-free in London.
As we were pulling up into the park area, police stopped us. All illusions of fantasyland broke into a million fragments as me heart sunk to me boots, thinking, oh no, this can't be happening, it's the salami thing, or worse, Weasil's father reported his expensive motor missing, and we were about to spend the rest of holiday in the nick.
Jordie rolled down his window as Weasil went rummaging for car insurance, license, and what-have-you while I sat in the back with my eyes closed, feigning sleep. I just couldn't put up with another session of this crazy stuff that seemed to follow Weasil anywhere he went.
"Hello! We wonder if you have by any chance seen a van hereabouts?" The pleasant-faced officer inquired.
"Uh, what kind of van?" Jordie asked, confused.
"Well, if I told you that, I'd be giving out pertinent information to the public." The man said.
Jordie sighed heavily and said, " How can I help you if I don't know what kind of van it is?"
"Well, it is a stolen van," the officer replied.
Jordie looked over his shoulder at me and whispered, "Is it me, or am I dealing with morons today?"
I shook me head, eyes half closed, in an "I don't know" fashion because I was thinking I actually was in fantasyland.
"Sorry, officer, but I have seen vans along the way, but I don't know if any were stolen," Jordie said pleasantly.
The officer leaned his arms on the door, his voice low and personal, he said, "I know it seems bloody inconvenient, but you see here we are handicapped in the search for the thing because Special Branch doesn't want the public to know what the bloody thing looks like. Do ya see?"
I know it took all of the resolve Jordie had in his body not to burst out laughing, "Ah, and so it 'tis officer. They cannot issue a description of it. Aye, and so it is. Sorry, we can't be more help."
The officer straightened up and gave us a small salute before sending us on our way.
Once we were well out of the officer's sight, we burst into gales of laughter that continued throughout the rest of the day. I swear people must have thought we were escapees from the loony bin the way we'd be fine one moment and in stitches the next. Sadly, that is all I can remember of the highlights of seeing Windsor Castle. It be a blur all but the laughter and that's not such a bad ting (thing). I know these are not uproarious funny to you, but you needed to be there for sure.
Gabe
Copyright © 2007 All rights reserved
