To commemorate being completely skunked by overcast skies during Sunday’s lunar eclipse, I give you this Sunday from last year. I don’t think there’s been a regularly scheduled celestial event in years that hasn’t been obscured by clouds where I live. It’s been a frustrating run. I plan to be in the path of the total eclipse of the sun as it traverses the central United States in 2017. At least I know that if it’s cloudy that day, it will still get creepy dark!
And, of course, pisces…
By Jimmy Johnson
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270 responses to “And, of course, pisces…”
Strip of 10.03.15:
“albeit” – I can’t recall ever seeing that word in a comic strip.
Another first for Jimmy?
There are lots of words that we use in books , but rarely in conversation. You may refute that if you so desire.
I experienced a total eclipse in 78 or 79 (I was a young ‘un, so my memories aren’t clear) under total overcast. Put forth the effort to find a spot that isn’t, if you can.
I’ve already seen the word “albeit” used on two other blogs this morning. I didn’t realize its usage was rare, but I agree it’s probably not too common in the funny papers.
Good morning all. Walked for miles in the St. Louis Botanical Gardens and going back this afternoon I think. They had an awesome arts and crafts show with tons of wine, cheese, breads, food products and awesome vendors of jewelry, clothing, decor, plants, all handmade in Missouri. Not a good place for me, I am a suckered for all this!
Having Diet Coke and cranberry raisin walnut bread with cranberry orange goat cheese for breakfast. That is not from the breakfast buffet at motel.
Love festivals, craft shows and farmers market and music fests. This is all plus gardens, so I bought a membership for the year, it isn’t that far here and my daughter lives two hours north.
Albeit is a perfectly good word I use. But then I am fond of words.
So is Jimmy which is why I am fond of A and J.
Sophisticated scripts and best art out there. OK, Bloom County is back unleashed, so Jimmy isn’t the only beam in the dark anymore.
“TWC is probably telling everyone on the East Coast to build an ark by now.” Yep, surfed across TWC earlier this morning, just in time to hear the SC rains described as of “Biblical proportions”.
The “1000-year flooding event” of yesterday is being called a “200-year flooding event” today. I know that’s small consolation if you are flooded out of your home or business, but it seems typical of the weather forecasting racket. I honestly don’t recall any case in the US when the actual rainfall equaled the max forecasted rainfall from these type events.
I suppose that encourages people not to take weather warnings lightly, but I worry about the future complacency it can engender. And I guess weather forecasters have to play the CYA game, too.
Debbe đ You OK, hon?
Happily sitting here listening to Sainte Saens, cellos and piano on Pandora. Thank you Villagers for that although I am slow to catch on or up. Natural blonde and all that.
Thank you to those who convinced me to turn back from the coast and head west. It is lovely here in St. Louis and I am going to do water aerobics in pool, then get dressed in my beautiful Scottish woven cape for the chilly weather and spend rest of day wandering the parks with Dickens the Adventure Dog who needs a warmer jacket too!
A cape! That’s what I need! A cape!
No Ghost what you need is the beautiful kilt that the Cape was displayed alongside in the Celtic shop I purchased the Cape in. I would attach a photo of said cape and kilt had not 2000 photos vanished with my electronics! Don’t think I had posted that on Facebook.
Galligo and the rest of us kilt lovers will contribute. I have the shops card.
GR6, wearing a kilt would have all the ladies asking you the age old question,”What’s worn under your kilt?”
Once again the Board of the Village Orphan’s Society has tasked me with providing any interested parties with an update of the Arbuckle-Lacko Affair. As previously ordered by the Board, I dispatched a communiquĂŠ to King Boiko on the 30th instant, begging the pleasure of his company at a special assemblage of the Board to be held on the 2nd proximo. Being that the Director was absent due to a matter of pressing Orphanage business, I was obliged to request that Vice Director Maisey McGregor-Bickersfield affix her signature to the epistle. This she did, as she proffered the observation that sending a messenger to the Roma camp seemed to her to be redundant, as the encampment was undoubtedly filled to overflowing with fortunetellers, each and every one of which would already ken the desire of the Board for a meeting. (As is nearly always the case of my dealings with her, I was unable to discern if Miss McGregor-Bickersfield was speaking in earnest or merely japing.) I directed John Biggins, the Orphanage’s Johannes factotem (and reputed game poacher par excellence), to deliver the message to King Boiko and return directly with the Roma King’s RSVP, and he departed forthwith. However, Master Biggins’ arrival back at the Orphanage was a good two hours past his expected time of return, and I noted our rotund little man-of-all-works’ hair was even more disheveled than usual, and he was wearing an enigmatic smile and a brightly colored scarf knotted around his neck.
By the day of the convocation, the Director had returned and was prepared to meet with King Boiko. From her place next to the Director, Miss McGregor-Bickersfield inquired of her as to her confidence of being able to negotiate successfully with the Roma King, and the Director immediately replied that she was exceedingly confident of an outcome that would greatly benefit the Orphanage. “My assessment of Lacko is that he is assuredly not the sharpest poniard on the arms rack,” she added.
At the appointed time, the soi-disant King presented himself to the Board. He was quite vibrantly clad, and as the Director leaned toward the Vice Director, I heard her say, sotto voce, “Providentially for our interests, he is not nearly as bright as his attire.” Lacko was obviously attempting to radiate an aura of bonhomie, but I personally felt he exuded all the charm of a soiled serviette. Dark of hair and dusky of skin, he was short in stature and physically unimpressive, other than for the considerable girth of his waist. He was heavily mustachioed, and the top of his head was hairless, as from being tonsured, but even had he been devoid of the rapacious glint in his eye and the faint but nonetheless detectable sneer on his lips, no one would wrongly identify him as a monk.
“Ah, Madame Director,” he said in oily tones, “it is zho very good to be seen by you again. And now if we could cut to zhe chaste and get down to bronze tacks, we can speedily preclude our businezz, and I can be on my back to my champ.”
The Director merely looked at him, her expression as impenetrable as a Roman scutum. She waited until the Roma King began to squirm slightly under her gaze. “Master Lacko,” she said, intentionally omitting his claimed honorific, “if the English language is giving you difficulty, would you prefer we speak Romani? I am fluent in twelve languages, and that happens to be one of them. Or will your English be adequate to tell the Board how much it would be worth to you should we choose to accept the return of the Arbuckle lad to the succoring bosom of the Orphanage?”
Lacko’s countenance brightened a moment at the word “bosom”, but he quickly returned his thoughts to the matter at hand. “But Madame Director,” Lacko protested, “I am not a rich man. I am merely zhe poor chef of an even poorer group of wonderers…”
“That’s total flumadiddle,” the Director told him firmly. “You know that, and I know that.” Things proceeded rapidly in an antipodal direction from what the Roma King had undoubtedly expected, and he soon stomped off, no less hefty in the belly but much lighter in his leather coin purse. And so Nigel was restored to the Orphanage.
Early this morning, the Director summoned me to her modest office, where I found her seated at her desk, cup in hand and savoring the bergamot orange flavor of her beloved Earl Grey tea. In response to my inquisitively raised eyebrow, she said, “Master Biggins took it upon himself last evening to make a postprandial journey to the Roma encampment, in aid of, as he put it, some personal business. His attendance to that business was stymied by the fact that the tribe had sacked up their crystal balls and other appurtenances and departed, posthaste, for parts unknown.”
“Well, that is not entirely surprising, considering how thoroughly you flummoxed and filleted him yesterday,” I said with a smile. “And certainly that is to the advantage of the area and its inhabitants.” The Director had waved her hand dismissively at mention of her fleecing of Lacko, but catching an almost imperceptible glint in her eyes, I added, “But is there is something else, isn’t there?”
“Indeed,” she said. “An even more noteworthy peripeteia has occurred. Yesterday must have been a propitious date for travel, as Cyril Bicksford-Smythe has returned from his sojourn at the big top circus, arriving here just prior to the bewitching hour.” After a slight pause, she added, “With weary legs, sore feet, and malodorous clothing…and interesting news concerning Prunella Mountjoy.”
“Do tell,” I remarked dryly. “Why am I not surprised there would be interesting news attached to that young lady?”
“We shall need to confer about this news at some length, so return here when you have broken your fast, if you please,” the Director told me. I bobbed my head in acknowledgment and took my leave of her, making my way to the Orphanage commons.
I have the honor to be, &c.
(s) Rosamund Wainwright-Altringham
for the Board of the Village Orphan’s Society
OF due 1557-1617 CDT. Goopy day there. emb
http://www.nps.gov/features/yell/webcam/oldFaithfulStreaming.html
I’m all in on a contribution for Ghost’s kilt–but he MUST promise us pictures!!!
Today’s letter from the Village Orphans’ Society is awesome, not the least for Madame Secretary’s impeccable spelling. It is flawless! She is most erudite, albeit becomingly modest. I betcha that most people don’t know what Earl Grey tea is flavored with, let alone how to spell it.
Coincidentally, I’ve been thinking lately of getting a kilt, because of this:
http://www.kiltedtokickcancer.org/
Did someone just out themselves?
I have to say that for such a worthwhile charitable cause I would make a generous contribution, deliver it in person and send the live photographs via Skype.
OF due 1905-19 25CDT. Goopy day there, still. emb
http://www.nps.gov/features/yell/webcam/oldFaithfulStreaming.html
Woohooo, Anonymous! I hereby volunteer to keep you company!!
Supposedly at dinner a lass asked the old Scotsman sitting next to her the question, âWhatâs worn under your kilt?â
“Gie me your han’.”
Peace, emb
By the bye, this Scottish lassie is so short, the Cape must have been woven for a brawny lass. It flourishes generously front, back. sides and can be thrown over the shoulder with abandon.
I don’t know if they outed themselves, but if they are writing this only for us they are wasting a remarkable talent.
Indeed, that was an interesting bit of writing by the eminent Rosamund. Last I looked, though, the desired word was “factotum” rather than “factotem”. On the other hand, I was enlightened by my introduction to “peripeteia”, a word I’ve not encountered before.
Can’t say I know where this is headed, but, keep ’em coming!