It sounds insane to say it, but it’s absolutely true. The Crone feels like Ma from Little House on the Prairie. She is allegedly a busy executive with a fashionable pied a terre close to the center of the nation’s capital but today she donned a metaphorical bonnet and toiled at the homestead which might as well be in the Ingalls’ home state of Minnesota because certainly there’s enough snow. First she took a plunger to the blocked sink. Then she handwashed a whole pile of dishes that she retrieved from the dishwasher, which isn’t working because of the problem with the sink. Then she dropped her cell phone in the sink and it promptly stopped working too. The late 19th century closed in on the hapless Crone: no means of communication other than letter writing (well, blogging), dishpan hands and no running water. It was hateful. Pulling on her galoshes ( I kid you not) she walked to the hardware store (sadly not run by the Olson’s–although given its Dupont Circle location it is no stranger to Nellies) and bought something strong to shift the last of what ails the drains. “Do you have a garbage disposal?” asked the storekeeper “Yes” said the Crone “But it doesn’t work (probably because it thinks its the 1870s and it hasn’t been invented yet)” ” No matter” said the storekeeper ” You can’t pour this down the sink. You’ll have holes everywhere. You need to go home and remove the trap and give it a good clean and then pour this straight through before you reconnect the disposal.” Remove the trap? What next? Deer skinning? Tatting? Building an extension from logs? The Crone is more than ready for the snow to go–and for her to go back to work.
Little House on the Prairie
February 8, 2010 at 5:13 pm (Crone in the Nation's capital, Life's vexations)
Tags: 19th century, Blarney Crone, blocked sink, cell phone, Dupont Circle, Ingalls, little house on the prairie, Minnesota, nation's capital, Nellies, snow, waste disposal
Itchy Ankle in the Snow
February 8, 2010 at 3:04 pm (itchy ankle)
Itchy Ankle is back in contact with the outside world. Peggoty sent these photos through today. It seems that the roof of the one and only convenience store has collapsed under the weight of all the snow, and so there is now anxiety about a toilet paper shortage. Will Peggoty be able to make it to bustling, downtown Parole (the nearest metropolis) before Barkis has a post-Superbowl bowel movement? Stay tuned for more details.
As you can see, Itchy Ankle had more snow than the big city–or at least more drifting. The first three pictures are of the Blarney abode. Questions will be asked about the Sno Ho who the Crone feels may be a rather cruel caricature of everyone’s favorite redhead.
Snow Watch-continued
February 8, 2010 at 2:12 pm (Crone in the Nation's capital)
Tags: Blarney Crone, icicle watch, liquor store, snow, Washington DC, Washington Monument
These photos were taken yesterday when the Crone ventured out for a three-block constitutional. The main number streets have been plowed/ploughed but a lot of the letter streets are still completely impassable. If you look carefully, you can see the Washington Monument at the end of 15th street in a couple of pictures. 15th street is one of Washington’s main thoroughfares but on Sunday it was deserted, except for a few hardy outdoors types like the Crone. BTW, the fact that there is a picture of a liquor store below should not cause you to jump to any conclusions about the purpose of the Crone’s walk–she just happened to be looking up (part of a very prudent icicle watch) and noticed a sign she’d never spotted before.
15th Street, Sunday Feb 7
Non-stop to Itchy Ankle? Sorry, not available
February 7, 2010 at 9:58 pm (Crone as Pen Pal, itchy ankle)
Tags: 84 Charing Cross Road, Appleton Marsh, Co-operative travel, Dear Daddy Long Legs, Doris Brazil, film rights, itchy ankle
The correspondence grows between the Crone and her new penpal in Appleton Marsh. The latest from Doris Brazil is reproduced in full below. It’s like Dear Daddy Long Legs meets 84 Charing Cross Road and the Crone can only hope that someone invests in the film rights forthwith. It’s a shame that Co-Operative Travel couldn’t rise to the challenge of non-stop to Itchy Ankle but the Crone will continue to save airmiles and put pennies in a jar so she can one day visit Doris and buy one of everything in her size at the ladies outfitters.
The Crone will acknowledge that the ardent tone of the note below slightly took her by surprise. Doris, perhaps, didn’t get everything she needed from the late Mr Brazil? Or it could be that she simply likes the look of the Crone’s soft furnishings and got carried away at her keyboard? Perhaps the Crone will leave it for a day or two before writing back–it’s just not fair to lead anyone on.
My dear Blarneycrone,
Such kind words from afar. Let me assure you, the admiration is entirely mutual.
As I type my heart is all of a flutter. Surely this is how it must feel for those desperately lonely women who correspond with murderers on death row. You and I have made a connection and if it wasn’t for our age difference, which is substantive, then a civil ceremony might be on the cards.
Just imagine the resources such a union would have thrown together… my Bissell and hostess trolley, your darling kitchen chairs and butter dish, my Goblin teasmade and your plump cushions. I could have opened a branch of Doris Brazil Ladies Wear in Itchy Ankle while Flo took care of the European Division. We might have based ourselves in Itchy Ankle and taken our holidays in Appleton Marsh.
Alas, back to reality. I did go into Co-Operative Travel to enquire about flights to Itchy Ankle. The travel agent suggested I fly to Washington but then the sterling-dollar exchange rate makes this option prohibitively expensive. We did look at budget airlines and we established I could have flown one-way with Air Serbia for just £149; but this was to Veracruz and it seemed a long way to ask you to come and pick me up.
Rest assured Blarneystone, I shall keep looking for an affordable fare and in the meantime I remain a devotee of your wistful musings.
Health and happiness to my soulmate and intimate inmate.
Yours,
Doris Brazil
Catch up with the full Doris story here http://dorisbrazil.wordpress.com/
Responsible adult
February 6, 2010 at 8:00 pm (Crone in the Nation's capital, Gangsta Hansel & Ghetto Gretel, itchy ankle)
Tags: Blarney Crone, Hansel, itchy ankle, nation's capital, old, responsible adult, snow
The Crone’s son called this evening. As before, he and the hottie made it to Itchy Ankle before the snow storm and so are as snug as two bugs in one rug at the Crone’s home. She, in case you haven’t worked it out, is marooned in the Nation’s capital. The Crone, a couple of minutes into the conversation, started to talk about things to eat from the freezer, the need not to pump up the central heating too high, and the extreme importance of not driving before the roads are safe. “Wait a minute” said Hansel ” I’m the one calling to check on you” This was the second time in two days where the boot seemed to have worked its way to the other foot. It’s nice to know they care, but it does make the Crone feel awfully old.
17th Street in the Snow
February 6, 2010 at 7:14 pm (Crone in the Nation's capital)
Tags: 17th street nw, Dupont Circle, snow, Washington DC
‘Sno Fun
February 6, 2010 at 11:58 am (Crone in the Nation's capital, Life's vexations, Uncategorized)
Tags: beltway, Blarney Crone, blizzard, country music, digital doppler, flip video camera, flood, heidi montag, local news, people magazine, plastic surgery, reporters, snow, weather man
The Crone cannot pretend that her time as a snow shut-in has been without its irritations.
First, the kitchen sink is blocked, a fact the Crone discovered only after she’d filled it with all sorts of very dirty pans, and a lot of water. Then she turned on the dishwasher, which caused the flotsam and jetsam in the sink to rise to dangerous levels. A blizzard and flood in one weekend feels like too much.
Secondly, the Crone mistakenly managed to pick up the Country Music version of People Magazine last night at the supermarket as part of her snow weekend reading. The Crone has nothing against country music, in fact she quite likes it, but really this is a very sad publication. Anything that makes you yearn for more details of Heidi Montag’s plastic surgery is a very bad thing.
And then there’s the local news. Every channel has been milking this storm since Tuesday, with each team more annoying than the last. They tell everyone to stay off the streets and sidewalks but fail to follow their own advice. Every news outlet has young, macho reporters in four-wheel drives skating round and round the Beltway with the windshield wipers on, endlessly telling everyone else it is too dangerous to drive. They always report smugly on cars and trucks they’ve seen get stuck, failing to mention that they are probably filled with rival news crews. Then there are the reporters who stand outside gas stations with yard sticks, furry hoods and ostentatious boots, endlessly measuring the snowfall, which never seems to pile up quite as quickly as they want. They too remind everyone else that it is too dangerous to be out and, as they are only showing us what we can see from our own front windows, it would seem they would be well advised to pack up and go home.
Each channel has a perky young anchor in a silk shirt and beads (most of these are female) who unaccountably blames the weather man (older, drip dry shirt, unfortunate hair) for the snow. “What have you got for us Bob/Tom/Chuck/Jim?” The weather men boast of their digital dopplers and draw incomprehensible arrows on their maps just to show they can. Then there is the older woman who radiates concern for the outside broadcast staff from the warmth of the studio “Stay warm out there–be safe” The male anchors pretend they will shovel their own driveways when they go home. All these people are everywhere, pre-empting shows you’d actually like to watch. The channels have removed the digital clocks from the bottom of the screen to make room for a ticker telling you that every Saturday morning dance class, school sport and spaying clinic has been cancelled. Of course it has. No one can get there. It’s not safe to drive or walk. You’ve been saying so for days. Please, please give it a rest. And tell us the time.
Anyhow, since she turned the telly off, the Crone has had a chance to experiment more with her flip video camera. Again, these are not Oscar-worthy clips, but at least you can see the Crone has now mastered the art of the “walk-through” shot, so beloved of camera operators everywhere.
I’ve got my love to keep me warm
February 5, 2010 at 11:18 pm (Gangsta Hansel & Ghetto Gretel)
Tags: Blarney Crone, daughter, I've got my love to keep me warm
The Crone’s daughter has just phoned to check she is home. And safe. And warm. And has enough food in the house. And isn’t going to do anything silly. The Crone is 49 and her daughter is 17. What’s wrong with this picture? Nothing at all 
Flip is Fab.
February 5, 2010 at 11:07 pm (Crone in the Nation's capital)
Tags: flip video, snow february 5 2010 washington dc, usb
Ok, so other people’s snow pictures aren’t that interesting, but honestly the snow in Washington DC tonight is beyond beautiful. The Crone has been out with her flip but didn’t dare post another video where really nothing moved. But the flip lets you download snapshots from your movies and, better yet, it needs no cord or fancy attachment–it has a cunning USB that, well, flips, right out of its side. You can snatch images of anything, anywhere and have them posted for the world to see within minutes. Flip is fab.
The Lost Afternoon
February 5, 2010 at 6:22 pm (Tales of a Belfast girlhood)
Tags: Annie's Steak House, Belfast, Campbells tomato soup, federal government, gypsy creams, lost afternoon, nor easter, Spud Hughes, Washington DC
The Crone was first introduced to the concept of a lost afternoon in the early 1980s by her friend Spud Hughes. The idea is to go to lunch and stay there until teatime, and the excuse is usually something to do with the weather. In Belfast, back in the day, the two used to treat themselves to a lost afternoon just about every time it rained and so they were out of the office about three afternoons a week. Their boss, in those days, used to lose every afternoon, and quite a few mornings, so there were never any complaints or threats of pay-packet reductions. The Crone, sadly, has not enjoyed a lost afternoon since then, but took her opportunity today. The Federal Government, and so all of Washington DC, closed at 1:30pm because of a big Nor’ Easter on its way through. The Crone seized the moment and invited her friend Tom to join her for a lost afternoon. He agreed with alacrity and the two repaired to Annie’s Steak House. Thus the Crone has only just arrived home and is in excellent spirits. She has milk, bread, pasta, the makings of sauce and lots of Campbells tomato soup to see her through what is meant to be the worst snow storm in decades. She also has a packet of gypsy creams. What’s not to like?
And so it begins...
