In which the editor panics. Quite a lot.
Returning this evening from another warm day in the office, the editor was surprised to see that a letter of unmistakeable livery was lying on the doormat awaiting her arrival.
The editor has been summoned to Buckingham Palace on Friday, November 17th.
Given that she has waited so long to have the date confirmed, Lady Bracknell had anticipated that the editor would react calmly once the news arrived, as befits an employee of a member of the aristocracy.
But Lady Bracknell's confidence was sorely misplaced. The editor is all of a fluster, and can be heard to fret, "But I haven't been back to the milliner yet to discuss hat colours!" and, "But that's really soon, and I haven't even bought my shoes!".
Lady Bracknell suspects that this weekend may prove rather trying...
The editor has been summoned to Buckingham Palace on Friday, November 17th.
Given that she has waited so long to have the date confirmed, Lady Bracknell had anticipated that the editor would react calmly once the news arrived, as befits an employee of a member of the aristocracy.
But Lady Bracknell's confidence was sorely misplaced. The editor is all of a fluster, and can be heard to fret, "But I haven't been back to the milliner yet to discuss hat colours!" and, "But that's really soon, and I haven't even bought my shoes!".
Lady Bracknell suspects that this weekend may prove rather trying...
9 Comments:
Who is the "editor" What mysterious hold does this person have upon you?
Do you need rescue and succour?
The editor's role is described here.
She may not be quite as Lady Bracknell expected when the contract of employment was drawn up, but the two rub along together in a moderately harmonious fashion most of the time.
Nevertheless, Lady Bracknell is touched by Monsieur Weasel's generous offer of assistance.
Buckingham Palace! Holy crappers!
Lady B, I think you're the coolest person I almost know.
Stella :)
Thank you for clearing that up, Lady B.
One is a bit worried about "all social backgrounds" being welcome.
Are you some kind of suffragette?
Do people of Trade visit this blog?
Surely not.
Lady Bracknell admits that she may have erred grievously in extending her welcome to members of the proletariat in her initial enthusiasm for this blogging venture.
However, it is too late now to rescind the gesture.
Mum says that you can come to our house anyday but that you won't get a medal (although you'll probably deserve one if you eat some of Mum's carrot and green pepper cake).
Well, I must say that's very kind of your mother.
And I bet Chez Wilf has fewer grand, sweeping staircases than Buck House as well.
The carrot and green pepper cakes sounds ... interesting.
The Editor
Congratulations Lady B. I hope that the Palace proves to be accessible.
And no doubt when the Editor has her hat and her shoes she will then wail, "but I have nothing to wear!" Ah, Lady B, I think you're in for some trying times.
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