Apparently I look like Deb's father. Sorry to say, having seen a photo, that this is actually true. She's not just mad. Or, she's not mad in this specific instance. Her father went off to boarding school and never came back to Scotland and therefore her grandfather's spirit is unable to rest. (Hint: this is the the mad bit.)
My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to stroll round the castle in a kilt with a set of bagpipes and make the extremely late Lord Dinmere believe his son's come home. I see several flaws in this plan, not the least of which is that she still insists I've got to do it sans pants. And shouldn't the kilt be her family's tartan? More practical objection: I can't play the bagpipes.
None of this is getting through to her, and Sherlock thinks it's a brilliant idea. Mycroft is scoffing at the idea of ghosts, but I caught him googling orbs just now.
(Note to self: if the Late Lord Dinmere [hereafter LLD] is actually haunting the place, why wasn't it on the website? You'd think they could charge more with a genuine ghost. She seems sincere, but is this merely an excuse to rob me of my pants? If so, may need to recommend professional help; that is not the action of a sane person.)
On a less drafty note, we hauled Mycroft's telescope down to the loch and/or lake last night just before sunset, along with a couple of blankets, a folding chair, a flask of hot cocoa, and some biscuits. (In some respects, my love for Deb is unshaken, at least when it comes to biscuits.)
The water was so still it was like seeing two skies, one above and one below. No clouds. Only a tiny sliver of a moon, like a silver thread (or a gray hair) stuck on black fabric. Except the sky's not really black, is it? Even at night. It's this sort of black-blue-purple. It's black like a bird's wing. And those ancient Greek blokes were right, the stars do look like holes in the sky with light from beyond shining through them.
Sherlock fell asleep around ten, despite the cocoa, and I drifted off for a bit myself. Mycroft was still glued to the eyepiece at 11pm when I said we had to go in to bed. I think this phase may last a while.
3 comments:
There are plenty of sane people who want to rob you of your pants. Don't judge the poor woman on that.
My Aunty Marge used to believe in orbs. She thought that they were the souls of her dead cats come to be with her from beyond the grave. Stuff and nonsense if you ask me.
Deimos left a little parcel on the stairs again last week. I'm going to put the carpet cleaning cost onto your rent. Have a lovely holiday!
Thanks for looking after them, and sorry about the, er, accident. He must be missing Mycroft. They're usually so good about that. Maybe Lestrade can give them an extra walk at some point.
Maybe we shouldn't brought them along. According to Deb, there's tons of orbs/cat souls here for them to chase.
Post a Comment