Friday, 9 March 2018

It's that Time of Year...*

Continued (sort of) from In Space, No-one Can Hear You Peep

 Ms Scarlet sighed for what felt like the fiftieth time, peeled back the cuff of her mitten and looked at her watch.  Again.  He was now even more late.
 "Hmmmm..." she said, then having given the sky another once over, Ms Scarlet turned on her Wellington booted heel and went back indoors.  Sidney followed her with an expectant look on his face.  The look soon faded when his mistress disappeared into the bathroom rather than the kitchen - there weren't any treats in there.
 After an almost dainty grunt followed by what sounded like dozens of spoonfuls of trifle being scooped out of a bowl in quick succession, Ms Scarlet came out brandishing the octopus sucker bath mat.  Sid's ears drooped.  Definitely not a treat.
 "Some birthday this is turning out to be.  I shall have to find my own way to Lake Como now, Sidney" she said, laying the bath mat down on the carpet.  "I hope this thing works."

 Gathering up her bag, a few bottles (some of which were filled with suspicious-looking objects), her travel calligraphy set, Sid's bag, a half-eaten box of After Eights and an unopened box of Ferrero Rocher, some self-indulgent reading material (last year's birthday present), and a vintage Pot Noodle, Ms Scarlet stepped onto the bath mat then sat down, cross-legged.  Her arms were more frustrated than cross and, had they been able to, would have huffed in exasperation at having to keep all the paraphernalia together.   
 "Come on, Sidney."  She gestured for Sid to join her on the mat.  The little dog cocked his head to one side and tucked his tail between his legs, but otherwise didn't move.  "Come on!"  With a small whine (not even half a glass), Sid slunk onto the bath mat and jumped into his mistress's lap.  "Good boy!"  Sid made a half-hearted attempt at wagging his tail.
 With only the slightest of wobbles, the bath mat rose into the air, about three feet off the ground, and slowly drifted to the back door**.
 "Charmaine?!  I'm just off!"  Ms Scarlet yelled as she fumbled with the Mogwash Air Traffic Control app on her phone.
 "Huh" was the monosyllabic response from the attic.
 "I'm taking Sidney!"
 "I've left a cauldron of gruel on the stove!"
 "I'll lock the door behind me!"
 "Oh, just go!" Charmaine screamed.
 Resolving to have words with Charmaine once she returned from her getaway at George Clooney's L's lakeside retreat - and to withhold at least one portion of gruel per day for at least a week, longer if she remembered - Ms Scarlet locked the door as the magic bath mat hovered next to it, then she instructed it to ascend gracefully into the heavens, imagining her scarf fluttering elegantly in her wake.  Reality, however, had other ideas.  
 After clipping*** her big, pink bush, the bath mat struck turbulence almost immediately, lurching this way and that, causing Ms Scarlet to grip the edge for dear life with one mittened hand, while she endeavoured to keep all her luggage on board with the other.  In her lap, Sid jumped up and down barking incessantly.  Then, just as she remembered that she hadn't set the TV box to record the repeats of 321 (with Ted Rogers and Dusty Bin) while she was away, a gust of wind blew her scarf across her face, obscuring her vision...

To be continued...  

* Post title, Pot Noodle, and Sidney by Ms Scarlet.
** Because witches don't tend to use the front door unless they can possibly help it.
*** No pun intended.


  1. [anxiously scanning the sky awaiting Miss Scarlet]

    Does anyone happen to know what wine pairs with vintage pot noodle?

  2. something clipped her bush. the poor darling.

    1. Well, she shouldn't let it get so out-of-control!

  3. *I never read footnotes

    1. I was going to not reply to this as an exceedingly witty way of showing you I also don't read footnotes, but thought it might just come across as rude, hence this long and convoluted rubbish.

  4. I think a white Riesling would go great with pot noodles--Rieslings pair well with everything!

    I hope Scarlet and Sidney have a smoother journey, that air traffic is nonexistent on her flight path. At the very least, I hope the in flight snacks are tasty and they don't freeze in the chilly weather!

    1. At the - what can only generously be called - altitudes the bath mat can attain, low flying birds will be the biggest problem. I hope one doesn't get sucked down Ms Scarlet's plug hole...

  5. Oh my word! I am going to have words with my bath mat this afternoon and remind it that the clipping of bushes is strictly the remit of the secateurs.
    Meanwhile, whilst I'm away perhaps Charmaine could be roused from her perch in the attic to write me a post...
    You have Sid down to a tee, Mr Devine! Thank you so much for this birthday greeting.... I'm beginning to look forward to these every year!

    1. Happy birthday, Ms Scarlet!!! All those hours spent peering through your windows, and lurking behind hedges as you walked Sid, really paid off, then!

    2. P.S. Apologies for the lack of a card - or a frock - this year: spare time for such matters has been fleeting (as may be evident by the glut of posts with photos and not much in the way of writing or other creativity)


Tickle my fancy, why don't you?