5) I will never downplay or forget the enchanting effect of the ever laudatory utterances of the chateau owner I worked for a few years ago, an absolute queen when it comes to literal and figurative adornment, by celebrating every attempt at creation or even plain maintenance or domestic work with the awarding words ‘best ever in her life’ or ‘you are so extraordinarily talented’, always applauding the efforts of the only one capable and thus adding to her own charm by interminably being friendly and complimentary.
I obviously can’t prove malicious intent nor would I want to suggest any, but when I finally came to recognize the pattern, the profound non-exclusiveness of her remarks, her fictitious spell on me was promptly broken.
6)
The actual story ties together me, a well attended chateau easter party unfortunately causing a severe blockage in a sewer pipe situated high upon a ceiling, little understanding of skills needed to resolve this problem but serious good intentions of helpfulness, and one ladder only just high enough for a balanced reach, or so I thought before taking into account the pressure released when opening the valve.
The appurtenant narrative easily tempts me into meandering exaggeration so is probably best kept safely tucked away from me by your ability to imagine and my ardent need to remain eloquent, with only one aspect worthy to push forward in its real redefinition of the words messy and smelly. Oh, and this: the problem wasn’t resolved by my heroic but dimwitted performance and the meanwhile engaged plumber suffered the same fate the next day, somewhat saving my ego. The epic clean up, thematically summarized in the French saying ‘Après nous, le déluge’, also includes relevant comparison to present day USA, but I’ll spare you.
7) six years ago today, having only just started the French adventure that would turn our lives upside down in many ways but grounded us in so many more, stunned by the apparent generosity of the chatelaine who took us in while in the same breath left us responsible in and for her majestic castle without proper instructions or funds to manage the various challenges coming our way, an enduring friendship commenced when we were kindly invited to share in the Thanksgiving celebrations at yet another chateau, a magical place lit by candles and warmed by a roaring open fire, with its comely chatelaine in front of it when we entered hesitantly, wearing “Yes, it’s a nighty”, one of a vast collection we soon learned because they were all hanging from the ancient beamed ceiling, adding original enchantment to the already captivating ambiance.
I obviously can’t prove malicious intent nor would I want to suggest any, but when I finally came to recognize the pattern, the profound non-exclusiveness of her remarks, her fictitious spell on me was promptly broken.
6)
The actual story ties together me, a well attended chateau easter party unfortunately causing a severe blockage in a sewer pipe situated high upon a ceiling, little understanding of skills needed to resolve this problem but serious good intentions of helpfulness, and one ladder only just high enough for a balanced reach, or so I thought before taking into account the pressure released when opening the valve.
The appurtenant narrative easily tempts me into meandering exaggeration so is probably best kept safely tucked away from me by your ability to imagine and my ardent need to remain eloquent, with only one aspect worthy to push forward in its real redefinition of the words messy and smelly. Oh, and this: the problem wasn’t resolved by my heroic but dimwitted performance and the meanwhile engaged plumber suffered the same fate the next day, somewhat saving my ego. The epic clean up, thematically summarized in the French saying ‘Après nous, le déluge’, also includes relevant comparison to present day USA, but I’ll spare you.
7) six years ago today, having only just started the French adventure that would turn our lives upside down in many ways but grounded us in so many more, stunned by the apparent generosity of the chatelaine who took us in while in the same breath left us responsible in and for her majestic castle without proper instructions or funds to manage the various challenges coming our way, an enduring friendship commenced when we were kindly invited to share in the Thanksgiving celebrations at yet another chateau, a magical place lit by candles and warmed by a roaring open fire, with its comely chatelaine in front of it when we entered hesitantly, wearing “Yes, it’s a nighty”, one of a vast collection we soon learned because they were all hanging from the ancient beamed ceiling, adding original enchantment to the already captivating ambiance.
Laaaadadidadaaaaa ladadadaaaaaaaa lalalalaaaaaaaaaa