We have got on very well, done all the written part of the catalogue and now I need to take photos. I’ve said to the Sage that I’ve got a reasonable amount of free time in the first part of the week, so if the weather is kind (I prefer to take the pics outdoors in a lightbox) I can get it all done in the next few days.
Weeza had me in fits of laughter, quoting Zerlina, last night. I wrote it down on my iPad (fingertip writing, no need to type, yay!). This may say as much about Weeza as about her 3-year-old daughter…
Weeza was feeding the baby in her bedroom the other day, and heard Zerlina in her own bedroom next door. “For God’s sake! He’s vomited all over me!” heard pootling to the bathroom “oh, it’s okay, it’s only cream.” Ella went from astonishment to hilarity in a moment.
In B&Q, which she hates, she was misbehaving so was put into the child seat in a trolley. “GET ME OUT OF THIS DAMMIT TROLLEY!”
When her father exclaimed, something having gone wrong, “where’s the dammit, daddy?”
Well. They didn’t learn any of that from me
*lying through my teeth*
It happens to be the café + very informal service on this Sunday of the month and I was playing the clarinet, so I planned to take Zerlina along. Friends were calling in and the Sage had promised that they’d meet the baby, so Weeza and Phil weren’t going to be able to stay, but I inveigled them along for a while with the promise of bacon sandwiches. It was very jolly and Zerlina coloured in and put together a Noah’s Ark with animals. Made of card, darlings, no carpentry was required (what is gopher wood, anyway?) and nor was actual animal husbandry. Sadly, having eaten her sarnie and made her ark, she decided not to stay and listen to Granny play the clarinet. Just as well, perhaps. I hummed “A Room in Bloomsbury” to a friend the other day who assured me it was written by Noël Coward, which made me think I’d got The Boyfriend wrong all these years. Belatedly, I’ve realised that my abilities as a songstress are so lacking that it had been mistaken for “A Room With A View.”
I should add, in fairness, that I’ve never heard Zerlina say anything like this myself!
Make sure Weeza (and Dilly) write down the funny things they say. We have a “funny book” and even now my children (22, 18 & 14) will collapse in laughter at the things they used to say.
Your last two sentences have got me delightfully confused amongst Noel Coward, Sandy Wilson and E M Forster. And I do admire your umlauts – how do you do that with such alacrity and prolificity?
Good advice, I wish I had – mind you, we still say Emergency Russians and No Holes Barred.
I know, me too, Tim. And the answer is a Mac, where accents are simple and intuitive. That is, Alt+e gives an acute accent, alt+c gives a cedilla etc.
As reported recently from Cornwall:
Daughter F. to grand-daughter E. (3½):
F: What shall we give Grandad [i.e. me] for his 70th birthday?
E: Let me see, what don’t we want any more? William’s [her little brother] play-pen?
And when it comes to accents, I have a London Review of Books mousemat with the whole lot on. Ready?
À Á Â Ã Ä Å Æ à á â ã ä å æ
– but I will not detain you.
I’m sure you play in it very nicely, Chris. Evidently a pragmatic and down-to-earth child, I think I’d get on with her.
So, on your computer you hold down the Alt key and type 192 for À, 224 for à, 200 for È, 232 for è and so on, with 235 for the one that really matters, i.e. ë. A lot to learn, but terribly clever.
Tim – that’s one umlaut that Z would know anyway!
Öh?
(Someone had to say it.)
Flushing lights.
My brother, when aged about eight, informed the family that the roadsign ‘Caution: Cattle’ referred to cattle from Cautia.
Very clever, the umlaut of you. Tee hee!