I can't quite believe it as this is something I've been writing for 2 years and, erm, I think, 3 months. It might be two months. It was either June or July 2004 I started it in but I'm more willing to bet on July as I only had about 5 pages written when I took it away in August 2004. Either way, it's a bloody long time. And I have just waltzed over to the archives to discover that I began posting it on 2 October 2004.
Blimey O'Reilly's trousers, frankly.
Alas, the christening shawl wasn't the only thing in the bag. There was also a dress my Little Gran (maternal grandmother) had been making for me just before she died (I was 2 & a teeny bit at this point, a month before mon frère arrived) and Mutti had forgotten it was in there. I had never worn it because it upset Mutti too much and it had gone straight into the loft. On the other hand, it turned out that my Auntie A had finished the one she had been making for my cousin Johanna and she got to wear hers.
Anyway, at some point between Vati going down the ladder and me deciding it was time to exit the loft my Vati had taken the ladder away, leaving me stranded in the loft. Thank you so much, Vati. Especially as he had also neglected to tell Mutti that it was in the study. I was (obvieusement) eventually rescued and lived to tell the tale. So did my bloody plot bunny... thank you, Charley.
So, I have dealth with friends, family, the path of true love & Georgia. I'm sure I had another very sensible category that needed to be dealt with but I have forgotten it. see how I am so pants. But anyway...
Any questions thus far? Please bear in mind that you may not get a sensible answer...
I feel like I ought to round this off like one of my official work letters "If you have any further queries, please do not hesitate to contact me". Obviously I wouldn't treat them as I do my proper work queries cos I am a nice person really.
Icon is of Hades...
Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin. I am going to tell you a little story. All about me. Glorious me! Oh and that pesky twinny of mine...
Once upon a time there was a (bleh) girl called pim and she discovered a monstrous place called the CBB. She hadn't been there long when she caught the drabbling bug and produced a many-splendoured-cliffed drabble. What pim didn't know, however, was that these cliffs weren't really down to her because she was just too nice to write such things. No, there were more evil forces at play in St Andrews. And in the Derbyshire wilderness.
One afternoon the following summer on the weary commute home from the hospital (the non-death-bike had got a broken brake and poor pimmy was reduced to taking the train) pimmy found herself writing a glorious cliff which was followed up with the death of young Bridget. Pim was rather upset by this and, trying not to cry on the train, knew that it couldn't possibly be right - she'd only killed mam off a couple of pages previously. Ahh, silly girl, she should have listened for the mocking laughter in the next carriage as I flew away from her.
Back in St Andrews, pimmy retrieved her story about Sharlie from the drawer and had begun posting it, wibbling a little over the double death that was fast approaching. She hadn't intended to kill off poor little Bridget and knew that she was going to get into Rather A Lot of Trouble for it. And that she did.
Signing into MSN after a hard slog in the library one day, pim was greeted by hordes of angry CBBers all wanting to kill her for having killed Bridgie off too. Pim panicked and hid under the desk. Emerging only to type the words... it wasn't me, it was my evil twin.
The truth she had so long denied was now out in the open and I, glorious I, unleashed myself upon the CBB *preens* Frankly, the place has never been the same since. Better, I feel.