Well, the Sage has come up trumps, that's all I can say, and it may have taken a few years but who counts the years?
I shall not beat about the bush (which can be quite uncomfortable, so I'm told) but tell you straightaway, that Bobby the leopard is in residence. I shall give you the link to the time I Told The Tale - goodness, almost four years ago. Here, darlings. The comments are really cool too, please do read them.
Anyway, he's on the landing. I'm so thrilled, I can hardly describe.
Actually, I'm going to give the Sage one of my special chocolates. Excuse me.
As I said in the post, I wasn't at all sure if Bobby would prove to have become hopelessly motheaten in his years in the barn, but he looks fine. It's possible, now he's in the warm, that a load of woolly bears or other caterpillars or maggots will appear, horribly, but I'm the optimistic sort on the whole, and I hope that there will be no problem.
The Sage and Jamie were busy in the workshop when I went out to my village festival meeting and I guessed what they were up to but didn't go and look, just called out that the Sage's kipper was ready to be put in the oven. When I arrived home, I was led upstairs to look. Tomorrow, I shall take a picture and show you. Remember, darlings, this leopard was no big game trophy. Great Uncle Ronan only killed him to save his servant's life. If he'd been a trophy, he'd have quietly mouldered away in the barn, not exhibited proudly. But anyway, Bobby is part of my childhood and I love him, failed wannabe maneater though he is.
I shall not beat about the bush (which can be quite uncomfortable, so I'm told) but tell you straightaway, that Bobby the leopard is in residence. I shall give you the link to the time I Told The Tale - goodness, almost four years ago. Here, darlings. The comments are really cool too, please do read them.
Anyway, he's on the landing. I'm so thrilled, I can hardly describe.
Actually, I'm going to give the Sage one of my special chocolates. Excuse me.
As I said in the post, I wasn't at all sure if Bobby would prove to have become hopelessly motheaten in his years in the barn, but he looks fine. It's possible, now he's in the warm, that a load of woolly bears or other caterpillars or maggots will appear, horribly, but I'm the optimistic sort on the whole, and I hope that there will be no problem.
The Sage and Jamie were busy in the workshop when I went out to my village festival meeting and I guessed what they were up to but didn't go and look, just called out that the Sage's kipper was ready to be put in the oven. When I arrived home, I was led upstairs to look. Tomorrow, I shall take a picture and show you. Remember, darlings, this leopard was no big game trophy. Great Uncle Ronan only killed him to save his servant's life. If he'd been a trophy, he'd have quietly mouldered away in the barn, not exhibited proudly. But anyway, Bobby is part of my childhood and I love him, failed wannabe maneater though he is.
8 comments:
What a brilliant story; I'm looking forward to seeing Bobby now!
The Sage is a family hero - and you have the leopard to prove it!
See this is why you couldn't move to a smaller house - the heirlooms
Could you not put him in a (large, chest!) freezer for a while to kill off any creepy crawlies? That's what I do with textiles of dubious origin/storage.
The heirlooms aren't the problem, Macy, it's the husband, heroic or not!
Picture to follow, just as soon as I've taken one. And I'll address your point there, BW.
What do leopard sausages taste like?
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01hllr3
100-year-old leopard sausages made of sawdust? I've no idea, Simon.
I've nipped it - well, not in the bud but rather in full bloom - but I've nipped it, Tim. Z is not beat!
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