the long bad thursday
I don't talk about politics as you know because I always find that whenever I take an interest in anything other than myself I have to go and lay down in a darkened room for several days to recover but last Thursday were the local elections and my agent told me to show that my very expensive education hadn't been totally wasted so I thought a little bit of politics would be just the ticket to show I still had my finger on the pulse. I didn’t know who to vote for so I studied the newspapers and the different party leaflets to see who was the most good looking. I decided I wanted to vote for Ségolène Royal because she was lovely but someone told me you had to be French to vote for her, and a socialist. When the book royalties come rolling in then I will be a socialist too, and I will be able to move to the south of France, so maybe next time, Ségolène. In the end I voted for the Green Party. I don’t know what their policies are but they had the candidate with the healthiest diet judging by the election poster. Nobody ever regreted voting for a vegetarian.
Well, the electricity has been restored to the village after the weekend, even if several days with my husband hasn’t restored it to my marriage, sigh. My husband doesn't like politics either. He's always had trouble with his elections. I was so depressed already by only Thursday afternoon in fact that I went to see the priest. I’m not terribly religious but there aren’t many people in the village who’ll talk to me. I wedged a chair against the door on his side of the confessional before I went in, just in case. ‘Father, forgive me, it has been several weeks since my last confession', I confessed. 'Don’t worry my child’, said Father Patrick. 'I’ve been reading your blog so there was no need for you to come to confession. I know everything already’. There was a pause. 'In fact, your blog saves half the village the bother of coming to see me too. Is there anything else my child?' he asked. ‘I was late returning The Da Vinci Code DVD to the video shop, Father’ . ‘Ah, so that was you was it? They said it hadn’t come back yet when I tried to borrow it. Is there anything else to declare?’ ‘Well, I told my neighbour I was going to call her a terrible mother on my blog, although I was provoked Father.’ ‘Whatever did she say to you Rilly?’ he asked. ‘She said I should visit the Angel of the North.' I replied. ‘That’s not so bad is it? He suggested. ‘She said I should go and stand next to it to prove that there really was nothing else in the North East bigger than my self-pity’. 'Well, I can give you a penance or I’ll let you off if you get me Wife in the North's autograph’ said the priest. I sighed. 'And light a votive candle on your way out'. 'Oh Jesus, I came here to get away from elections!' I sighed my most exasperated sigh, and with that I left, pushing an entire pew against the confessional door on my way out. The lady who was sitting on the pew mumbled something but I told her she should jolly well stop complaining and stop thinking just about herself for once.
Well, the electricity has been restored to the village after the weekend, even if several days with my husband hasn’t restored it to my marriage, sigh. My husband doesn't like politics either. He's always had trouble with his elections. I was so depressed already by only Thursday afternoon in fact that I went to see the priest. I’m not terribly religious but there aren’t many people in the village who’ll talk to me. I wedged a chair against the door on his side of the confessional before I went in, just in case. ‘Father, forgive me, it has been several weeks since my last confession', I confessed. 'Don’t worry my child’, said Father Patrick. 'I’ve been reading your blog so there was no need for you to come to confession. I know everything already’. There was a pause. 'In fact, your blog saves half the village the bother of coming to see me too. Is there anything else my child?' he asked. ‘I was late returning The Da Vinci Code DVD to the video shop, Father’ . ‘Ah, so that was you was it? They said it hadn’t come back yet when I tried to borrow it. Is there anything else to declare?’ ‘Well, I told my neighbour I was going to call her a terrible mother on my blog, although I was provoked Father.’ ‘Whatever did she say to you Rilly?’ he asked. ‘She said I should visit the Angel of the North.' I replied. ‘That’s not so bad is it? He suggested. ‘She said I should go and stand next to it to prove that there really was nothing else in the North East bigger than my self-pity’. 'Well, I can give you a penance or I’ll let you off if you get me Wife in the North's autograph’ said the priest. I sighed. 'And light a votive candle on your way out'. 'Oh Jesus, I came here to get away from elections!' I sighed my most exasperated sigh, and with that I left, pushing an entire pew against the confessional door on my way out. The lady who was sitting on the pew mumbled something but I told her she should jolly well stop complaining and stop thinking just about herself for once.
15 comments:
Darling, you want to keep away from those Catholics - it's all smoke, mirrors and hail Marys.
But glad to hear you have a forward-looking priest who is prepared to watch the blasphemy of the Da Vinci Code ...
'Elections' - one assumes that is that the Japanese pronunciation?
You are so brill! Keep 'em coming!
Darling Rilly - have you thought about standing as a candidate in the next elections? The Hard Labour Party, or the Conservatories? You could form your own Self Pity Party (sounds French) - I would love to see the manifesto!
Darling Rilly,
I will never be able to go to confession again, without the image of wedging the priest inside the confession box with a heavy weight.
You know, I might just do it anyway now, just for "the hell" of it. Ha, ha.
Ah - Catholicism and elections. I remember both well, but miss neither...
Brilliant blog - makes me laugh out loud - or should that be 'lol'?
I agree with M&M, catholics are alarming. but then I was damaged by my convent years...
'Sego' is looking good for her 53 years isn't she? She has four children. It's a shame she's so dull when she talks. At least she doesn't need a nose job like 'Sarko'.
Pigx
elections? we had 2 election cards each but no one knew who was standing, talk about lack of enthusiasm, well l suppose these things happen in rural england.
Do you know it all completely passed me by, this election nonsense. The last time I ever voted, the winner got to wear a large silk sash with the words May Queen printed across it. Needless to say, I didn't vote for the eventual winner. Such an injustice.
Oh Rilly! Do you feel it too? That special bond we have? It sustains me through the long, long, lonely nights. I'm sure you understand. It's so wonderful to have found a soulmate at last.
M&M, he doesn't have much choice, it's the only video left that the local shop rents out. Nobody even has the grace to pinch it.
thankyou so much spymum dear, but I'll have no such innendo and double entendre on this blog thankyou very much!
drunkmummym perhaps I do have a future in politics dear, at least then I could get someone else to write my blog, which is a public service after all, like that nice chap Miliband..
dulwichmum, you shouldn't worry if you feel the urge darling, just if he is nowhere to be seen the following sunday best hope for someone else to notice that the door is still wedged shut lest you arouse suspicion by pointing it out yourself.
there is no enforcement of email acronyms here dear debio, just the fact that anyone reads it is more than enough for me so thanks for dropping by
PITK, does Sego and Sarko sound like an early morning japanese cartoon on children's TV to you too? As form the nose job, well, we don't know what she's had done already do we, I mean look at those photos of her from 10/15 years ago, she's changed everything else...
2 cards each Muddyboots? I thought they'd put a stop to that kind of thing! well, you know what they say, apathy ru... thanks ever so for visiting darling
Numhead mum of one, ah yes, I remember peter mandelson winning that election too...
marianne, yes, seperated at birth, the two of us, surely? hugs..
You know, 10 years ago, I used to think there was something curiously attractive about Peter Mandelson ...
Rilly Darling,
The very night before Mr Mandelson was 'exposed' so to speak, I dined at a table next to him at The River Cafe. I remember remarking to James how wonderfully equalitarian of him to be dining with his enormous muscular 'security man.' Perhaps on reflection I was being naive.
I really don't think the sexuality of our leaders is anyones business but their own - wasn't Solomon a great leader according to the bible? Hadn't he a large number of lovers? Powerful men often have large appetites and many lovers - gosh it is late! I wonder where my darling husband is?
can you hear me laughing?
Perhaps Peter Mandelson could help your husband with his election problems.
dulwichmum, it would be terrible indeed if your natural tendancy to always see the best in people was seen as naive.
Lady Macleod, One of these days I will be able to spell your name without scrolling back to your comment, but not today..
@mill darling, that would be lovely, what with Guacamole Pete's previous northern connections, but I fear he may have got out of practice during his time in Brussels, as he doesn't have to stand any more, as it were...
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