By: Blonde Two
On Saturday, Blonde One and I were likened by a generous and eloquent blog responder to a pair of scissors. This analogy satisfied me enormously. Despite trying very hard not to, I have often wondered what my Dartmoor life would be like without Blonde One. The very simple truth is that although I am realistic (and old) enough to recognise that nothing lasts forever, I can’t think of an alternative.
Our symbiosis seems to be developing rapidly. On Saturday, the telepathy about the youngsters we were with was strong and, to be honest, saying things out loud was becoming almost unnecessary. Even odder was that when we did say things out loud, they were word for word the same and at exactly the same time.
But back to the scissor blades which don’t tend to say anything at all but, as a rule, know what needs to be done and do it at exactly the moment that will complement its co-worker. This is how the Two Blondes work. You don’t hear from Blonde One so often but be in no doubt that if we were measuring the amount of work that goes into our escapades, the scales would tip firmly in her favour.
In true Blonde style (how nice to have a style), I have done some scissor based investigation for you:
Scissors have been around in some form since around 1500 BC (neither Blonde is that old). They were originally formed from a single piece of metal (not possible for the Blondes as one was formed in Devon and one in Worcestershire). Eventually some clever Roman Blonde realised that scissors with crossed blades would be more effective, and once another Blonde had worked out that separate blades with a fixed pivot point would be even better, the modern scissor was born.
Everybody knows that once a pair of scissors has lost this connection, it is pretty useless. But did you also know that there are a wealth of superstitions connected with scissors.
For example, if you put a pair of scissors under the pillow of someone in pain, it will halve their pain. Putting a pair of Blondes under someone’s pillow may prove to be either a very pleasant surprise or a nasty shock but whichever response it invokes, it should take someone’s mind off the pain for a while.
You also need to know that if you don’t put your pair of scissors away in a thunderstorm, your house is more likely to be struck by lightning. Both Blondes have had panics this year when thunder was forecast out on Dartmoor. We are both too big to sit on our rucksacks as advice would suggest and I carry walking poles. So maybe, all Blondes should also be put away during a thunderstorm.
Finally, we Blondes need to remember that giving a pair of scissors as a gift can cause problems in a friendship. This is an easy issue to solve though, if I ever feel the need to give Blonde One a pair of scissors, I will just make sure that I charge her for the privilege – that way, they will no longer be a gift and we can continue to neatly trim the world of Dartmoor together for as long as we want to.
Given the cultural clues you have scattered around, I’m sure you’re both aware that Blonde is maid to Costanza, the main soprano in Die Entführung aus dem Serail. May I therefore conclude that one of you is the boss and the other is the under-strapper? And that neither is a golden retriever?
In Germany a blonde is a beer which leads to a welter of tedious double entendres. Nothing I’ve read so far in Two Blondes Walking suggests that tedium is just around the corner. Double entendres I can’t be sure.
No under-strappers here although I am wondering if that might be a double entendre itself (avoidance of such is a rocky and dimly lit path).
Also – my school girl French suggests that doubles entendres would be more correct with the adjective taking an ‘s’ to match its partner. My computer suggests otherwise – they rarely agree.
A grey area, greyer than I imagined. I did actually look up the phrase, wondering (though now I don’t know why) if it was hyphenated. It isn’t of course. Normally I italicise French phrases, quotes and genuinely French words as you may have noticed but I’m keen not to be seen as a pedant. I wouldn’t, for instance, italicise café or, probably, éclair. The problem with double entendre is that entendre is a verb and I’m not too sure how the phrase came about. Or what rules it obeys.
Keen to accommodate you I hauled out my massive Collins-Robert and sifted the hundred-plus references but my blepharitis got the better of me and I couldn’t see an immediate answer. Couldn’t see much at all. On top of this this is the wrong end of the day for me; I’m brighter between 06.25 and 09.00.
Notice how serious all this is; not a pinch of persiflage anywhere. Also I’m under-educated which is something I’ve been meaning to discuss, given your association with the DofE. A plea for mercy if you like, but I’ll need to don cap and bells before I raise the subject. Needless to say Sir Hugh got it terribly wrong when he attempted to characterise the differences between us. He hasn’t read Auden:
To the man-in-the-street who, I’m sorry to say,
Is a keen observer of life,
The word intellectual suggests right away
A man who’s untrue to his wife.
There, that was a little more digestible