Very sad to hear of the death of Helen Cresswell, creator of the Lizzie Dripping books (which I foolishly never read because they were clearly girl's books) and the Bagthorpe Saga, which went some way towards making me want to write by showing that everyday life can be far funnier, moving and more exciting than anything with goblins in it. I still grapple with this realization on a daily basis to be honest.
Trivia fact: look in the dedications page of one of the Bagthorpe books (can't remember which one), and you'll find the name of a certain Oriane Messina, which I didn't find out until I'd known her for a couple of years, and which immediately made me look at her with the awe and respect with which I should have looked at her anyway.
Up until I got the paper I was wallowing in the sort of hangover that can only be brought on by trying to divide three bottles of wine between two people*. I awoke with a severe headache, nausea and an Unexplained Injury (an interesting bruise on my upper right arm), that was sadly not brought about by some kind of frolicking-based activity with another person, as my fellow drinker was my closest friend who I've known since I was about fourteen, and who because she's a girl, I conscientiously walked home the five hundred yards round the corner, that being the full extent of my chivalry when hopelessly pissed.
The route back however, does take my past the corner of Kimberley Park populated by the Bushes In Which Things Happen, so the only explanation is that something jumped out and punched me, without me noticing.
Anyway, I've sobered up now, on every level, so I'm going to have some posh coffee courtesy of Agent Sarah, and get on with work. Sad news though.
*The true level of my pissedness can perhaps be ascertained by the fact that I was watching Sahara and at one point clearly remember shouting 'This is the best film I've ever seen in my life!'.
19 comments:
The link to Oriane is messed up - you need to put http:// in front of it.
D'oh! Ta matey.
seems like everyone around me is hungover today - (guess that happens when all the people in our department go to the pub together). Maybe its true that wednesday is the new thursday?
Yeah, I didn't get to bed until 2am and was out carousing last night too. Forget the folic acid, I keep hoping they'll start making breakfast cereals with added nurofen.
Oh, I *loved* the Bagthorpe saga. Was always quite irritated that I didn't have any Strings To My Bow to compare with one of them's translation of the complete works of Proust. I tried to be a precocious child, but always failed miserably. Ah well.
Yes, I too always felt I always supposed to be precocious but felt just short of having any actual talents or skills to speak of. So instead I was just 'annoying'.
Sahara! What a classic.
"I'll get the bombs - you get the girl." Cue manly punch to the shoulder and meaningful, just deeply hetrosexual, lingering look between the two lead men.
You only WISH you could write dialogue of that calibre! (that's pronounced cal-eye-burr, of course).
Loved the Bagthorpes and had a great fondness also for Moondial (subsequently made into one of those fantastic six-part BBC teatime dramas starring someone called Minty. God knows why I remember these things. She had very curly hair.)
I remember being a bit spooked by Lizzie Dripping in the TV incarnation (well I was about three), which put me off the books slightly. Children are so suggestible.
I've got the Moondial in the Cabinet, so it's great to have a Helen Cresswell reference in there. And yes, I remember being pretty scared by the Lizzie Dripping tv series - possibly the wtch used to blip in and out of existence or something similar...
And Minty's full name was 'Araminta Cane'. If was about to start up a drag revue (I'm not) that's definitely the name I would have chosen.
ah yes the disco bruise, a true enigma. unless it is the five bruise thumb print, usually acquired under the arm, there's no knowing from whence they came...
was "moondial" the one with the statues in the garden that came to life? if not, what on earth was?
UPI - unidentified party/pub injury
I thought I was a precocious child, but the truth is that I was more prick than precocious.
Still, when you look at the place I came from, any child who could read without moving his lips and using his finger seemed precocious. Platform soles were invented by a local cobbler there to stop the locals constantly skinning their knuckles when they went for a walk.
Oh dear lord did I just confuse name of actress and character in Moondial? Am mortified. In my defence, the actress (it turns out) was called Siri, which is a sillier name even than Minty.
damn spammers....i wouldnt call them Blog Rankers, but something that sounds quite similar....
Frolick is such a good word
The word 'frolic' reminds me of 'Puff the Magic Dragon', which makes me blub. It's a very thin song really but gets me every time. It's 'Mr Tambourine Man' lite.
That's so weird, I always found Puff the Magic Dragon strangely upsetting too. Ah I think I might cry just thinking about it! The very beginning of Superted where he gets 'thrown away because there was something wrong with him' always made me feel quite sad too.
Oh dear. Now look what you've done. I'm sitting singing 'Puff the Magic Dragon' to myself ... ouch.
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