Tuesday, May 15, 2012

message from the yard on the hill.



hello. i am taking over this blog because the previous owner has, gasp, run off with the gypsies.. . well. clearly not. but she has run out of pathetic excuses. her blog has become rather like a stuck record. she has paid me to step in at this critical juncture, poorly it must be said.
i will say, though, that she has been writing a lot of poetry, which could never be published here, for various garbled reasons. she's been writing about trees with secrets, alates under the moon, love and germans. whilst i am here, there shall be no poetry.

oh and she’s whittering on (annoyingly) about school, raising children and all the usual suspects…honestly. in fact, those in the know  have noticed that she has been  travelling to the halcyon isle of zanzibar having herself a capital time and quite forgetting about her three horses, three dogs, one cat and her two readers here, about which she is suitably ashamed, another reason she doesn’t want to step too flagrantly out onto this stage. too terrified to face the empty auditorium, i suspect, an obvious  reflection of her awful neglect.

being the inquisitive, literate type, i've read back on her bloggie notes and it seems she has also failed to answer a few of your queries. shameful. well. Monsieur X never replied to her letter but remains one of her most favourite teachers. she has confirmed that he still wears the crispest suits and remains astutely aloof. she also never quite finished the self help book on being happy. no surprises there. i have noted, though, that she has had her nose stuck behind the countless works of Jim Harrison, prostrate on countless chaises longues dans le jardin,  the odd Shakespeare, ‘As You Like It’ the more recent and now, presently, Tolstoy’s War And Peace, another reason for her absence here. bets are on.  

she has also been obsessing over a little known psychological disorder called the optimism bias -  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8rmi95pYL0 – (watch if you have a full 17 minutes and a bit available, which she clearly has) this has barred the way to any more blogging…
she has confessed otherwise:  that no one discovered her, so she gave up.

i’m really trying, people, to coax her out of this latest little dark psycho hole she’s dug for herself, by leaving trails of kit kat pieces, her favourite Dorothy Parker poetry, vague promises of fame and riches and a week in a padded cell (red velvet) with an endless supply of Earl Grey tea, gin, valium and oysters on ice (her idea of Mummy’s Purple Planet). it’s sort of working. oh and the promise of an early retirement to her beach house on zanzibar, where she will be allowed to wear turbans and kaftans and drive a retro silver blue  mercedez benz from india,( the one with round lights, a skinny white steering wheel and an elegant silver hooter) from stone town to the east coast. she will eat fish and paw paw every day, drink gins with mr t in his crumpled linen suit, at ten, and scandal about the village boys.

the little pink house  badly needs a lick of paint.  there has been a stupendously beautiful rainy season. things are lush, as though god has splodged all his tubes of various hues of verdant green oil paint over the land. one of the dogs was bitten twice by a spitting cobra who had clearly run out of spit and used his fangs. the dog miraculously lives, in a staggering about the place sort of way.
and life spins on….quite beautifully, it must be said.
much to catch up on, oh bestests, and much to look forward to.

Lashings of apologies, regardless.
toodely toot. it's rather good to be back and you smell nice. bisous X.X.X. crisp winter twilight ones. x j

23 comments:

k said...

Communication from the yard on the hill! Ah such a gift on a quiet day here in Oregon. More, more, more. And, thank you!

Robyn said...

my heart skipped a beat reading your words again... but you are right-all your excuses are just not acceptable-was the real excuse eaten by your dog..or soaked in the rains. don't forget about k and I...your (first)two readers (tonight)!

Bill said...

Apologies are so unnecessary. Besides, wearing a turban and drinking gin sounds perfectly reasonable.

Janelle said...

ah! k, robyn and bill!!! THANK YOU for reading and leaving your comments..come in come in! what would you like to drink?? x j

Bill said...

Thank you very much, a drink or two would be terrific! Wine is fine but I'm partial to gin & tonics and Manhattans.

bellananda said...

oh, you're still amongst the living -- hurrah! i'm always so glad to read about your adventures and musings and everyday life on the Hill. you're the only person i know who talks about "lashings" of things -- you've got me doing it now, too, and i always think of you when the term slips into my conversations. you can always count at least one reader from the middle of america. :)

...and as long as we're reclining in caftans on garden chaise lounges, i'll have a bourbon and soda.

xoxo

Miranda said...

'Bout bloody time. It may SEEM boring to you - your stories on here bit it ain't it really aint. And I am the best judge of this of course coz I get to see the stories in real life and then read about them and its STILL not boring. Oh yawn, I'm boring myself now. We've missed you...


grrrrrrr. Just so you know how much i love you, this is the eighth time I'm trying to post this comment. If it doesn't work this time, I'm giving up

Mud said...

Try Earl Grey martinis - the best of many things! Missed you though.

Do you have peanuts as well as drinks?

Janelle said...

bellananda - karibu to a bourbon and soda (oh heck, no bourbon. a vodka, then? or jamesons?), miranda, i LOVE you too darling and your precious babies, so much...and mud- yes! peanuts AND popcorn AND olives! chin chin y'all. xxx (this is just so whizz being back)

k said...

a neat scotch for me- or if we get very fancy a blood orange margarita!

Angela said...

Me with my limited English had to look the word lashings up, and my dictionary says, it is British for masses of food, if it`s not whipping, and I don`t think you meant whippings. I don`t know anyone with your power of words, even unknown ones, Janelle, and I mentioned you on my blog if you don`t mind, and your horse too (another niece, not M., she gave me a DVD of Mr. Ed recently, but Mr. Ed could NOT write)
Anyway, thanks for being back, and boring is the last word on my mind when I think of you.

Amanda said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Amanda said...

you had me at oysters and valium (but could we pleeeeease substitute good ol vodka for the gin?)

and i admit, i had to look up alates. is that a typo or did you mean termites under the moon? whatever it is, along with the trees, love and germans it all has the makings of a marvelous story.

good to see you back janelle. i was beginning to wonder if we should send out a search party..

(and now i have to do the bloody blogger thing that proves i'm not a robot which i clearly am because i'm never able to do it properly)

Angela said...

I was wondering about the Germans, too, but then it came back to my mind how a little girl (Shirley, Harry`s daughter, Harry being a German) once came in running from outside, crying wide-eyed to her mom, "There is a GERMAN in the garden!" They never found out who or what scared her so, but it must have been a very shocking sight.

Anonymous said...

I may not comment, perhaps I should, but your words and pictures transport me from a grey suburbia to a land of heat, dust and lush rain and for that I say thank you and mine's a G&T with lots of ice and lime.

Janelle said...

aw thanks y'all...anonymous! G & T comin' up! with zanzibar limes. and geli, lovely to hear from you...oh only lovely things about a german in my poetry....sad, actually...but still lovely. and amanda, you'll have to read my next post, when i get around to it, about "alates"...yes. they are a stage of being a termite - the best stage. x j

elizabeth said...

My last comment either got zapped or lost in the ether!
So glad you are wring again

yes yes to lashings of EVERYTHING in the booze and food line

oxox happy weekend

elizabeth said...

WRITING!

toomuchaugust said...

it was a cowboy wearing some sort of monk clothing who snuck in one night and stole away with all my expectations. i was not to attach them to anything,(he had told me this before and before) but now, without them it is easier to feel "happy." yesterday, having recently first encountered wild turkeys and then a bear, i encountered deer and was disappointed. what??? disappointed in finding Only Deer under my blue spruce tree? i had hoped for a red fox, a swift one. and what do you suppose happened to me last night, coming home from an almost midnight game? this is no kidding: a swift fox on zanzibar (the name of my street). i had never seen one before. ever. this swift fox studied me- wanting to know what was i doing where he was. and i studied him- wanting to know what was he doing where i was. i'm still trying to figure out the message delivered in his stare. thought i'd stop by here and learn something from you. i always do.

glad you are writing again.

sherry

Val said...

good morning General - its good to hear from you, and to know that you are there keeping an eye on our dear friend Janelle, and the beautiful family. The business of life can get overwhelming sometimes but i hope we get to read some of her poetry one of these days - have you heard any of it? does this mean there are some new songs emerging?? do pass over some kitkat from all of us in the blogosphere and tell J that we always love to hear her stories X

joëlle said...

Yay!! you are back!!!

Mark said...

Expect the best prepare for the worst...

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