I can’t vouch for flagons with dragons or vessels with pestles, but I now have my own chalice. That’s something I’ve wanted for a long time, a big metal cup.
Not my little metal cup with the blue enamel on it, although I’ll still be using that one, it’s a classic, but a big metal cup. It’s just something I’ve wanted for no good reason. Like 28 pairs of those pink plastic flamigoes, that’s something else I’ve wanted. I thought it’s look nice around the wading pool in the summer, give the yard that tropical air. But I was told, by someone who I won’t name right here, that that would be a Bad Idea, all those pink plastic flamigoes. I guess she’s right. The neighbors would get jealous. Wouldn’t want that, jealous neighbors. It’s just bad for the tone of the street.
I used to have one set of pink plastic flamigoes, but there was a Tragic Accident. The investigation was inconclusive.
I still don’t have a Magic 8 Ball™. That would be cool to have. My very own spherical plastic oracle. But gift-giving occasions are rapidly approaching, so you never know. I’m dropping hints already.
So now I have my very own chalice. Even if it is more of a goblet. But it’s a very chalice-like goblet. I got it at the Celtic Fest this weekend. It has knot work around the foot and on the bell. It’s quite spiffy. And it’s heavy. It is metal after all. Faux pewter. All the heft and stylishness of pewter without the pesky lead.
Wouldn’t want lead in my drinking vessel (with no pestle). It might make me dumb. Or crazy. I could set all my pink plastic flamingoes on fire and play a kazoo (because I can’t fiddle, and that’s already been done, although it was actually a lyre, and it wasn’t pink plastic flamingoes but Rome, but the point is it would be derivative) while they burned. Then what would the neighbors think?
I don’t have any drink monkeys either. They sure would look peachy perched on the lip of my chalice. Hmmm… now there’s something I should drop hints about…
-Rue.
(The above message is 1988 characters long. Do you remember where you were in 1988?)
Ah, Celtic festivals. Good fun. Good music. Good times.
After a few pints, I can easily trace out the patterns in Celtic knotwork. And my English actually starts to sound like Gaelic (okay, it’s really words made of all vowels and no consonants, but damit, it’s Gaelic to me).
[Don’t get me wrong - lovely language, but damed difficult to speak for a non-Gaelician.]
So, Rue, just out of curiosity - if you received a pink-flamingo-shaped Magic 8 Ball, would that satisfy your desires? Of course, I’m not familiar with any ball-shaped flamingos, pink or otherwise… How about a pink flamingo with a Magic 8 Ball body? Or a Magic 8 Ball with pink flamingos painted on the outside? Or a pink lute with 8 Magic strings?
Not that I’m asking for any particular reason. Just musing here.
Actually, no reprise, I haven’t “broken it in” yet. It still has sand in the bottom, so it’s sitting on the counter waiting to be washed. (The tag that was stuck in it said it was “sand cast” so each and every one is unique, and there was some grit in the bottom of the cup, so I’m saying it’s sand down there. Nothing you can say will change my mind.)I intend to wash it later today and break it in good this weekend.
I hope to go camping with my brother this weekend and there’s always a carouse. This one will probably just be Saturday night, but we might get wild and decide to be out two nights. That would mean two carouses. But we’re both oh so old, and one carouse will probably do us. But that’s a thread for another time. Probably next week. I dunno.
And screech, “good fun”? As opposed to “bad fun”? Is there bad fun? I mean fun is pretty much by definition good. But I guess you could do some bad things (at least sorta bad things, I don’t figure you could stoop to an actual bad thing, what with you being so pure and innocent and stuff) and that could be fun. But then it would be good for you, because if it was bad for you it wouldn’t be fun anyway.
I’ll think more on this next week. During the carouse. It’ll make more sense then. I’m sure.
Can a lawn ornament multi task and be an oracle Snickers? Is that possible? Would it create a new paradigm in plastic kitsch? Is that how you spell “kitsch”? Do you ever actually spell “kitsch” yourself, or do you use “tchotchky” or “dustable” or something like that?
You know this is getting too much like screech’s thingy up there that I was talking about what she said. Curiouser and curiouser…
-Rue.
You are so totally cool. A chalice? That’s like the first step to having a pretend communion set. Are you sure you’re not a priest in disguise?
In 1988? I was 15, so I was a sophomore in high school.
Oh yeah, in 1988, I was here in FL. We were living in Middleburg at the time on Clove Street. I was still working as a tool designer back then and I was driving a 1986 Jetta diesel. And I think that was the year I had the mole removed from my back. That pretty much sums up '88.
It’s good to know that next time I go questing for a Grail I can just swing by Casa de DeDay. I only wished that I’d remembered the Celtic Fest was this weekend. Nice weather for it.
The biggest excitement here was when one of our second story casement windows fell out. Initial estimates are approximately $400 to get it fixed. I wonder how much a new window costs.
Well, now that we know where the Grail is, we’ll be sending an old knight right by to pick it up. Thanks for the info. Kind of amusing to think that Rue might be drinking his morning Hi-C red punch from the Grail, but that’s our boy!
As for 1988, I was graduating from high school. Not all year, mind you. Just in June.
Tell ya what Lsura, you come on over and I’ll put on a black shirt, let you drink a little out of my chalis, give you a Necco wafer, and you can tell me how bad you’ve been lately. How’s that grab you? (Of course you have to where a while blouse and a plaid skirt. I’ll even respect you in the morning. Sure.)
Is that “good fun” or “bad fun” screech? Or did you have something in mind involving… I dunno… butterscotch pudding, rubber boots and a giant slingshot?
Weird RT. I met MY wife in 1986. I don’t think I’ve ever met yours. What are the odds?
So your window just fell out Shibb? Just bloop and then it’s a pile of broken window bits on the ground? Did the hinges just give way or is the whole shebang out and you have a giant gaping hole in your wall?
A new one would be way cheaper than fixing your old one. Unless you want it to match all the other windows in your house. Then it’ll be more. But I think a nice blue tarp duck taped over your window would just say something about you. Don’t you think?
And who said anything about a Grail? Not me, no sir. Chalis, yup, flagon, yessir, veesel, that was me too. But Grail? Nope. So if Mr. Shiny-pants Knight Guy shows up Zap, I’ll just tell him I ain’t home and we’ll see what’s about what, won’t we?
Eonwe - the title comes from a snippet of dialogue in The Court Jester starring Danny Kaye. Well worth seeing, should you be in the mood for a wholesome comedy!
Hmmm… in 1988 I was working full-time on my second bachelors’s degree (a pity they don’t come with actual bachelors, I would’ve enjoyed that) and also working forty hours a week as a lab technician. Consequently, I don’t remember a whole lot of 1988.
And now I feel old. Poot.
