Anniversary
She walks into the café and deposits her cargo on the bar counter. Champagne, of course, and cocktail making paraphernalia. The best selection of tapas this side of the Channel and an ample supply of home made passion fruit truffles and chocolates.
She looks around the empty café. The candlebra is still shining over mrsmatisse’s chaise longue. On the floor she finds melmoth’s tattered OED copy (It would be so nice if he turned up to the party!). She thinks of him and of Suckspencil, Kookaly, prunellecat and many others who are no longer here. Some, like Amy, will not come back, but others do suddenly pop back in and are welcomed like prodigal sons and daughters after a long or short absence.
Never mind, their chairs are taken by other people who have since plucked up the courage to stop looking from the outside through the misty windows, have pushed the door open and have found a cheery crowd welcoming them with drinks and buns and cheesy comestibles. And above all the open arms offering a virtual friendship which extends through continents and time zones.
The café is not empty, of course, it never is. She peers under the snooker table and finds the menagerie fast asleep. She thinks they are like an allegory for the other café regulars: weird but wonderful and they all get on in spite of their differences. Georgie the alligator sleeps next to Mary’s little lamb and she is not scared of his/her big teeth. The unicorn, safe in her sleep from existential angst, rests her horn on Welsh Granny’s lap. Count Leo and P’ong are snoring after overdoing the Black Sheep.
She unfolds her banner and hangs it under the candlebra.
☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿
Spanishscot Second Anniversary Party. Everyone welcome.
☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿
So much has happened since she first walked timidly through that door! Like many others she had spent a lot of time lurking outside. She had marvelled at their erudition and laughed at their wit, but always felt a bit intimidated. Two years later those people are not scary or intimidating anymore and many have become her friends. Virtual friends? No, real friends.
We’ve had real and virtual gatherings, flash mobs and many, many parties. Births, deaths, anniversaries, happy and sad moments shared. So, thank you for the music, the poetry (even the bum biting kind), the books, the recipes, the gifts, the nonsense, the doilies, and, I almost forgot, thank you Guardian for the daily crossword which keeps us all here and gets us going every morning.
Muchas grassyARSE.
May the splother keep on going and may the splothka never cease to flow…..
She looks around the empty café. The candlebra is still shining over mrsmatisse’s chaise longue. On the floor she finds melmoth’s tattered OED copy (It would be so nice if he turned up to the party!). She thinks of him and of Suckspencil, Kookaly, prunellecat and many others who are no longer here. Some, like Amy, will not come back, but others do suddenly pop back in and are welcomed like prodigal sons and daughters after a long or short absence.
Never mind, their chairs are taken by other people who have since plucked up the courage to stop looking from the outside through the misty windows, have pushed the door open and have found a cheery crowd welcoming them with drinks and buns and cheesy comestibles. And above all the open arms offering a virtual friendship which extends through continents and time zones.
The café is not empty, of course, it never is. She peers under the snooker table and finds the menagerie fast asleep. She thinks they are like an allegory for the other café regulars: weird but wonderful and they all get on in spite of their differences. Georgie the alligator sleeps next to Mary’s little lamb and she is not scared of his/her big teeth. The unicorn, safe in her sleep from existential angst, rests her horn on Welsh Granny’s lap. Count Leo and P’ong are snoring after overdoing the Black Sheep.
She unfolds her banner and hangs it under the candlebra.
☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿
Spanishscot Second Anniversary Party. Everyone welcome.
☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿☀♥❆✿
So much has happened since she first walked timidly through that door! Like many others she had spent a lot of time lurking outside. She had marvelled at their erudition and laughed at their wit, but always felt a bit intimidated. Two years later those people are not scary or intimidating anymore and many have become her friends. Virtual friends? No, real friends.
We’ve had real and virtual gatherings, flash mobs and many, many parties. Births, deaths, anniversaries, happy and sad moments shared. So, thank you for the music, the poetry (even the bum biting kind), the books, the recipes, the gifts, the nonsense, the doilies, and, I almost forgot, thank you Guardian for the daily crossword which keeps us all here and gets us going every morning.
Muchas grassyARSE.
May the splother keep on going and may the splothka never cease to flow…..