2 posts tagged “garage”

LogoLeafy3

Greetings my fellow cyber citizens.

I arrived in our far flung corner of Empire last night after a very pleasant journey on the railway. The staff were most amenable, the seating adequate and the conversations interesting but not overwhelming.

In marked contrast to my previous encounter with Mr John Davey - erstwhile of the 4.10 to Wigan I was regailed during the journey by a couple of stout yeomen who apparently worked as convoy drivers in Iraq. Most enlightening earwigging I must say. But enough of that. I will tell more of that at another time.

Having arrived at the terminus at the alloted time (which in itself is a remarkable feat these days)  I went up to the sisters' domicile.

Mother collected and drove me in a little run-about that she uses for the staff. You know the kind of thing - not too flashy but just impressive enough to remind one that perhaps our place in the hierarchy isn't  quite as secure as one would wish. It has just the right amount of panache to impress and yet not so much that it is ostentatious. Class will out you know.

We drove past the old Cicstertian abbey - destroyed by Henry in a fit of pique some time ago - and quickly skirted the estates of terraces where the drones pass their time  gambing, whoring  and singing songs in praise of a God that has forsaken them.  I must say it quite lifted my spirits knowing that I did not need to spend any time with the great unwashed for once.

Once we entered the driveway and passed the gated which herald the entrance to the estate I began to fear the worst.  Where were the flocks of sheep? What had happened to the serfs who regularly ply their illicit trade in  fighting cocks along the avenue?  I saw no sign of the  stallions that  oft  marched in proud and serried ranks between the  collonades of  Ash and Birch that grandpapa planted during the reign of Mad King George.

In fact the grounds were somewhat tarnished by the absence of any other living souls. I must say that this fact was surprising. I usually consider solitude an ample reward for achievement. The opportunity and ability to banish lesser mortals from ones holdings is somehow immensely satisfying but on this occassion the voluntary exile of the peasants rendered the isolation "sans suffie".

And then the wreckage of the outbuildings hove into view. I have rarely beheld such devastation.
Twisted metal and broken stones lie scattered across the once immaculate sward. The gouged and torn earth has wounds that remind me of the skin of Burmese monks after a protest. Caloused and impotent, the fragile skin is rent and impossible to heal.

I stood in shock for a considerable time as I pondered the fools who had done this. Emotions ranged from sadness to rage and despair and then, quite out of the blue, a salient fact hit me: THEY HAVE INSURANCE.

Huzzah!

The lands are safe and the prospect of needing to return once more to the twadry business of working has faded from the landscape. It is someone elses problem.

Marvelous. It makes me feel proud to be British what!

However, on awakening this morning - post ablutions of course - I was roused from the morning room by the plaintive bleep of my computational device. An electronic missive from far distant places had arrived.

What news?

Good or Bad?

From whom

The letter contained information that I feel is pertinent and worth sharing with you my friend.

It is a simple matter to call an insurance company and restore the acres that we call home. It is however a much more distant and difficult prospect to inject hope into a hopeless life. I suggest you read it for yourself.

http://www.kiva.org/app.php

Until the sun sets and we are together once more I bid you adieu and good hunting.

Yours

Lord Muck