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Keep calm and edit on.

11/1/2016

6 Comments

 
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​Every year, there’s one day that Glynn makes me the queen. Queen Anne, so to speak. It’s always during the first week of November, shortly after Halloween. This year, today is that day.
 
By now, this is a game we’ve played many times. Glynn slips out of bed early-ish, usually before I’m awake, and he takes care of the morning chores. All of them, from dishes to the Chihuahua, from emails to laundry. Although he's usually careful to pick a day when all of the laundry has been done. Chores completed, he returns to the bedroom and, when I start to stir, goes to find my crown.
 
This is the picture of the actual crown and, yes, it fits quite nicely on my head. The head it occupies in this photo is our Halloween candy dish. Isn’t it fun?
 
If we ever find a crown that fits Glynn’s over-sized noggin, he'll have a day when he's the king. Just between you and me, I’m making no effort to find that crown. But he isn't either, really, or we'd have found one by now.
 
Oh, and he's the one who says his noggin is over-sized. I'm simply the one who agrees with him.

When I’m the Queen, there are rules. My door is always opened, my chair is always pulled out, my consort is ever obedient, and my every inexpensive wish is indulged. Today, we’re going to Panera Bread for lunch. Fuji Apple Chicken salad, *yum*. Later this afternoon, we’ll watch the 1945 horror anthology, Dead of Night, because (a) I love horror anthologies, and (b) it features Mervyn Johns and I’ve always had a fondness for his rumply presence, and (c) it’s British. Shouldn’t the Queen be a supporter of all things England?

No, excellent point, there are some things I can't defend -- and one of those is stargazey pie. That culinary horror show is an English sardine pie and, I know this to be true, the words "sardine" and "pie" should never be joined together. Also, the finished products looks so insanely wrong, I know I'll never want to try it. Even if Panera offers it on special.

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This is stargazey pie.
 
There is one thing my consort refuses to do for me, even on my special day. He refuses to write this blog. He'd much prefer to lounge on the sofa (until his Majesty proclaims a need for his services). As I type this, he's watching the Bowery Boys in From Bowery to Bagdad. He's always thought that Leo Gorcey was kind of cool. 
 
Consorts, am I right?
 
For now, I proclaim the week's blog as complete and adequate. (I may be a Queen, but I'm not deluded.)  I hope your day is wonderful, too.

6 Comments
A.S. Akkalon link
11/4/2016 12:39:26 pm

That pie is the most dreadful thing I've ever seen. They're fish trying to escape, right? But as their heads burst through the surface the oozing pit sucked them back down and drank the life from them, leaving them dessicated husks. The horror!

I hope you truly enjoyed your day as Queen, Your Majesty. (And note I signed up to be your unwanted acquaintance. :) )

Reply
Anne
11/5/2016 09:53:26 am

A.S. Akkalon, when it comes to the fish pie, you must realize I agree with you. Not everyone is on our side, though. In Cornwall, this pie is viewed as the "guiding light of a Cornish Christmas", according to -- https://munchies.vice.com/en/articles/stargazy-pie-is-the-guiding-light-of-cornish-christmas -- and, if you follow the link, you'll see why.

I still don't want a slice, thank you very much.

And you'll never be an unwanted acquaintance. I view you as a Special Friend. :)

Reply
A.S. Akkalon link
11/5/2016 11:41:01 am

I make it a rule to not eat any food that's looking accusingly at me, so no pie for me either, thank you.

I'm delighted to be your special friend. :)

Reply
Anne
11/5/2016 03:25:37 pm

A.S., one quick note: All of my "special friends" are meeting at the house on Thursday, 8:00 PM, to watch Supernatural and enjoy some Goat Eye Stew.

Please be on time.

Reply
A.S Akkalon link
11/5/2016 03:47:43 pm

I'd love to come, but I'm getting my wisdom teeth out that day. And my tonsils. And my appendix. Maybe next time. (I'm sorry to miss Supernatural.)

Reply
Anne
11/5/2016 04:54:11 pm

You poor thing! I'll DVR the Supernatural episode, and save you a big bowl of stew for later. :)

Reply



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    At the back of my paperbacks and e-books, you'll find this:
     
    A collector of vintage Barbies and younger boyfriends, Anne Glynn currently resides in the American Southwest.
     
    The truth is a little more complicated. I'm Anne and my S.W.P. (Significant Writing Partner) is Glynn. Together, we write as 'Anne Glynn'.
     
    However, I am a collector of vintage Barbies and I have, on occasion, collected the younger boyfriend. Not so much these days.
     
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