Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 235

 Today is Sunday, the 29th of January 2023.

January is almost over. And I know I say and write it every year...

REALLY ???

Wasn't it January 2022 only two seconds ago?

Ask the cow.

Ask the pig / asks the swines.
Ask George Orwell.

Wasn't it 1984 yesterday?

🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷

🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷

🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷

"Blue Bromford"

Embracing,
distorting,
supporting,
comforting
Convincing you,
consoling you
Controlling you,
destroying you
All over you

I know someday we'll meet again
We come and go that way my friend
It's part of me, it's part of you

You feel invincible,
it's just a part of life

You feel invincible,
it's just a part of life

I ce-bergs …

 

»So?« Nigel has drawn his chair next to Claude Sideburns' chair. »You are no archaeology professor, are you?«

Sideburns whimpers, »But I always wanted to be an archaelogist. I have watched all three Indiana Jones movies at least three times.«

»All three?« the llama wants to know. »Aren't there four Indiana Jones movies and soon a fifths to come to the cinemas.«

»There are only three that count«, Sideburns sobs his white fuzzy hair swaying with every movement of his head. »And we will see if the next one counts after we have watched it.«

»So, who do you call a person who pretends to be something or someone he or she is not?« Nigel asks. »An imposter?«

We all look at each others and around in the library, shrugging.

»Is Brompton Castle even your home?« Kylie wants to know. »Or did you rent it or something to impress us?«

Here Hildegard, the cook and housekeeper intervenes.

»Master Claude inherited Brompton Castle from his mother Claudine who herself inherited it from the late-late Lord Brompton, her noble employer whom she worked for as a housemaid. And so she kind of inherited myself and good old Gilbert here, too.«

Claude Sideburns nods in agreement snorting loudly into a slighty dirty handkerchief.

»But if archaeology is not his field of expertise«, Kylie wonders aloud, »what made me the archaeologist's assistant?«

»And me the archaeologist's assistant's assistan?« Nigel mumbles.

»And what does this make of our treasure hunt?« the llama asks.

And suddenly everyone in the library is staring at me.

And again, I do not have the slightest clue.

Meanwhile a cross-eyed sheep is gazing inside through a dusty window pane.

◾◾◾
◾◾◾
◾◾◾

◾◾◾
◾◾◾
◾◾◾

◾◾◾
◾◾◾
◾◾◾

Today is Friday, the 27th of January 2023.

Imposter

T able-linens …

 
As the morning and the break-fast continues the talks are getting louder and livelier.

In the background I can hear Butler Gilbert whisper to the woman Professor Sideburns addressed as Hildegard,

»We must give Farmer Farnsworth a call. His sheep are in our yard again.«

»Escaped again?« Hildegard asks looking out of the library windows. »Better be quick before the whole place is full of sh…«

»Blood pudding, Hildegard«, Professor Sideburns shouts out, »bring more blood-pudding, Hildegard, my cook and housekeeper.«

»We don't have any blood-pudding, Master Claude. The pantries are empty as most of the times«, Hildegard explains, then adds in her sarcastic voice, »And why do your guests keep calling you 'Professor'? Isn't a professor usually an expert in his field and teacher of the highest rank at universities and other post-secondary education and research institutions?«

Gilbert, the butler is smiling brightly, »I'm impressed, Hildegard. Where did you read that definition?«

»On the web. I read that on the interweb.«

»Now that we speak about it«, Kylie wonders, »at which college did you meet, Professor? Which is your Alma marter, KussKuss?«

The llama is leaning over the breakfast table to fish for another cookie from the cookie-jar with its' mouth and teeths.

»Don't be silly, Missy«, the animal smirks, »I am an animal, not a student. Who on this earth had ever heard of a camlid studying Archaeology or any other of the sciences?«

»But it can walk and talk«, Nigel says to no one in particular.

»Burnside and I met in a small and shabby pub at Islington. I had buckets over buckets of stale ale and good old Claude here had to help me with the bill or otherwise I would still be the pub-owner's beast of burden or dishwasher or entertainment playmate or something like that…«

The animal lays its' snout on Claude Sideburns' shoulder and bats its' eyelashes.

Hildegard coughs. And Gilbert turns to the wall with bookshelves to hide his giggling.

»But that is not worth talking about«, the co-called professor says trying to loosen and straighten the collar of his shirt at the same time.

◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽◽

Today is Monday, the 23rd of January 2023.

A Pub in Winter