By: Blonde Two
Yesterday, the Two Blondes had a terrible shock. You may have noticed that every now and again we escape work early and make a Blondeline for Dartmoor (like a beeline but with a less logical route). This happens more around Christmas time because we enjoy viewing the Dartmoor Christmas Tree and seeing who has visited it.
As we parked the car, it was already getting dimpsy and, in the mist, it was clear that this particular visit to Tree was not going to include much looking at the view. We know the way well though and made it up the hill in record time. It was at this point that the terrible shock happened. At first glance, the Tree looked all happy, people had visited and there were some new baubles and some lovely red tinsel. When we went to look at the @BlondesTwo and the Little-Miss-Blonde baubles that we put there a week or so ago, to our horror, we found that they had been snatched, cruelly smitten from their prime position by some deviant criminal.
After a bit of Blonde detective work we sat down to drink our coffee/tea, eat mince pies and chocolate brownies (you need a lot of sugar after a shock) and consider the possible perpetrators.
Suggestion One – Mr Environmentalist. Had some earthy, environmental type come along and, in a fit of disapproval and tree-saving vigour, removed our precious ornaments? Suggestion one was dismissed as the string and all of the other baubles had been left on the tree.
Suggestion Two – Mr Vandal. Please note, I say “Mr” not the more youthful “Master” here. This is in defence of young people, who often seem to get a poor press in these situations. Obviously, it wouldn’t have been a “Mrs”! It has been a recent fear of mine that we would one day find that Tree had had some branches hacked. For this reason, I have removed all Blonde hints as to its whereabouts from the ethersphere. Suggestion two was dismissed as there was very little rubbish on the ground – most vandals surely drop at least a chewing gum wrapper?
Suggestion Three – Kidnappers. I don’t think that we Blondes have any enemies. In fact, I don’t think we actually know anyone either real or internet invented (do we not all reinvent ourselves via social media?) who would be mean enough to demand a ransom for our geegaws (yep, I am just looking up synonyms now). We are, however, half expecting a photo of them in a strange and exotic place to appear sometime soon.
I think we are both hoping that some cheeky high-jinx led to the removal of our trinkets. This idea is preferable by far to the thought that someone just stole them. Sadly, it was clear that there were thieves about last night. Someone had also stolen the sunset, the Christmas star (Venus), the view and our fox. They had not, thankfully, stolen the Blonde Mobile – the reason that we couldn’t see it was that we were looking ever so slightly in the wrong direction!
A deviant criminal. One who wilfully breaks away from a norm. I see lines from imaginary ads: “Only true arsonists need apply.” Implying that matches are OK, flame-throwers not. I am visited by a horrible thought. Perhaps I’m a deviant commenter (too many italicised French words) and, in Woody Allen’s words, “I adopt the foetal position on the electric blanket and turn the control up to six.”
Even so it’s an advanced Western concept – post-defining the criminal you would prefer. Positively Hegelian, an adjective chosen for it mellifluousness rather than its sense.
I only had to look two words up that time. Maybe my vocabularly is increasing. I should probably not type the words deviant Bl…. on a public forum.
Most comments consist of the commenter relating a similar experience of his/her own and I can’t aplogise for doing so this time. Last summer on my Avon Canal walk I left some socks outside my room to dry, and they mysteriously disappeared. The pub manager suggested they had been taken by a fox. My teacher daughter, High Horse respnded with this little ditty:
I left my socks
They were nicked by a fox
What is a walker to do?
Break out the Crocs
You don’t need socks
That’s what a daddy would do!
xx
The baubles went missing
The Blondes are still hissing
Their ire at the treacherous cad.
If found by a Blonde,
He had better abscond
For both Blondes are mightily mad.
Were those kisses for us or for you?
I’m sorry, the kisses were from daughter to me. I will be passing on your verse for her amusement.
I reckon it’s the high jinx antics of our mischievous mutual acquaintance…..I’m sure they’ll turn up in a teepee near you soon, strung up amongst some bunting I would imagine…..
I have to admit that this was my first thought!
hahahahahahaha!
This is for the previous post which won’t let me comment!
When I was small my mother knitted me a swim suit. It was warm until wet, then it just drooped. I could try knitting a couple of warm cups to go inside your bra. I don’t think they’d get wet and they would probably not droop either, if your bra is a good fit!
Love, Mum
Definitely worth a try but nothing too bulky please (or itchy) 🙂