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Nov. 3rd, 2018

poliphilo: (Default)
My mother: I have a word in my head and I don't know what it means. "Shallot". Can you tell me.

Self: Well, it's one of two things- either a kind of onion- or it's a place in a poem by Tennyson: The Lady of Shallot. Do you know it? (fetches Collected Tennyson from bookshelf and starts to read aloud...)

"On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye...etc"

My Mother: Never heard of it.
poliphilo: (Default)
A persistent scrabbling noise was coming from the direction of the kitchen. It stopped as I approached so I couldn't get an accurate fix on it. Ghosts and wild animals- neither like to be snuck up on.

And no it wasn't fireworks. They started shortly afterwards- and anyway they sound quite different.

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