The other evening, Miss Madonna was telling us (Miss Poppy, Miss Julliesse, the Juffrouw and myself) that she stores much of her musings in Elektraspace. She explained that if she wants to find something she can simply google for it instead of searching through her Ordinator. (Naturally one gathers from this that her Ordie might be organized in typical Blonde fashion.) For myself, I rather like the verb 'google.' To my ear, it has a distinctly Vintesse sound to it. After all, we wear goggles when motoring or zipping about in a flying machine and they help us to see clearly. So, jeepers, googling for something seems natural.
Anyway, I asked if it wouldn't be nice if we could google for our misplaced automobile keys and so on? Juffrouw Landgrebe said that on occasion she has trouble finding her bicycle keys but then after searching the house all over they wind up being in spot they ought to have been all along. We agreed with Miss Madonna that it was indeed a puzzle that any lost item is invariably found in the last place we look. Then it was my dinnertime and I regrettably had to say Rayati.
Later, thinking about bicycle keys, I remembered going for a jolly fun bicycle ride with Miss Madonna. At the Amsterdam Library in Virchers they give out Witte Fietsen or White Bicycles. The wireless station there is terribly bongo, so turning it off is recommended but otherwise it's a pleasant enough place. You can even play a game of chess if you have the brain for that sort of thing.
Bibliotheek Amsterdam OBA Openb, OBA (153, 208, 27)
Being Virchers not Telluria, it's pointless to return the bicycle or pass it along (no transfer) when you are done with it. So I experimented and repainted mine.
Wouldn't it make a for a lovely time if we could arrange an outing of a group of us, a bicycle ride and picnic?
Witte fietsen were supposed to be shared bicycles. They were spread around Amsterdam in the 1970s. Everyone was allowed to use them and just leave them somewhere unlocked so that someone else could use the bicycle next. Unfortunately that is not the way the world works. They were considered free bicycles. People would quickly paint them another colour, add a lock and voila, new bicycle for no money at all.
May I impose, for a moment, upon your wisdom as Headmistress? I am troubled over whether it was entirely ethical for me to repaint the Amsterdam Library's witte fiets. At the time I rationalized that it was this was acceptable because these particular fietsen are 'no transfer' and therefor it would be pointless for me to leave it for another maid to use in Virchers. If the Bibliotheek had truly intended their bicycles to emulate the purpose of the originals they might better have made them 'No Copy' and allowed transfers. Isn't that true?
And yet, I wonder if by repainting their virtual bicycle I have behaved, in appearances at least, just as those greedy individuals who violated the original idealistic purpose? The bicycle is a wonderful form of transportation for any Aristasian but I cannot claim ignorance- I knew the story of the witte feitsen and painted it anyway.
Am I truly awful or am I just silly for worrying about it?
Thank you for your 'inzicht' Juffrouw, if it's my instinct then I mustn't worry about it then. Is there a special way to celebrate this tradition? Is it sort of like Sinter Klaas? Hehe. Nevetheless, I still think it would be fun to go for a bicycle ride and a picnic someday with other pettes.
Here's a kinnie of two darling Vintesse Pippsies relaxing at home...
The Charleston is so infectious- the second time I watched this kinnie I was dancing right along with them in front of my ordie!
A Blonde maid takes a dress to the seamstress to have it altered. The Brunette seamstress takes the dress and invites to the Blonde to sit in the waiting room as the job should only take a few minutes. The Blonde sits down, picks up a magazine of up-to-date fashions and begins to idly flip through the pages.
"I love those shoes!" exclaims a small, high pitched voice.
Startled, the Blonde looks about her to see where the voice came from. She looks about but as far as she can tell she is alone. She shakes a her head and goes back to reading the magazine.
A few moments pass in peace, then the same small voice cries out, "Your hairdo is exquisite!"
Startled, the Blonde now peers under the sofa and chairs. She even looks behind the potted fern with the same result as before. Warily, she eases herself down and once again picks up the magazine but is not really seeing the pages.
"And that purse! It's..."
The voice is interrupted by the seamstress' entrance. She sees a visibly distraught Blonde who exclaims, "Miss? What is going on? I keep hearing these voices..."
"Oh, that is just the bowl of mints," the Brunette explains. "They're complimentary, you know."
I was visiting one of my favorite Virchers shops (Kleineschwein Designs Main Store, Caledon Eyre (28, 115, 22) ) and saw they have a sale of Great Winter Cloaks going on. I can't resist a bargain and so snapped it up. But I felt bit silly wearing it at the beach. So I looked for some places with snow. I found a ski resort that, while not up-to-date, has log cabin lodges which I suppose are as timeless in their design as only log cabins can be.
I took the ski lift to the top of a mountain and was struck by this lovely view. It was simply enchanting!
Here is a larger version of the above snap. You can see all the glittering snow flakes!
Please... I hope I'm not boring everyone with this diary? It's a little awkward being alone making entries. I have long had a tendency toward mania and can become obsessive. Without you in front of me, it's especially difficult to detect stifled yawns, surreptitious glances at the clock or other clues that one is being a bore.
(Ah la, when mania threatens to overwhelm me, I find that a measure of whiskey or gin is just the thing. But I must be careful, for if the pendulum swings, these are exactly the wrong nostrums and I'll find myself in a dreadful state- instead a strong cup of coffee is in order. In all honesty I don't mind either place particularly, it's the d*mned swinging that makes one dizzy, don't you know?)
I was a young girl when I first became acquainted with Miss Nancy Drew. We met in a corner of the library at St. John's Parish School and I took an instant liking to her. That is to say, I was immediately enthralled by her pluck and soon became her devoted acolyte.
I invited her home with me and in the following months we spent many hours, afternoon and evening, solving riddles and mysteries together. (These were dusty original editions out of Trent and not those horrible post-eclipse rewritten versions)
Upon reflection, it was probably through Miss Drew that I first began to suspect my Aristasian nature. Some of my classmates at the time would hurtfully dismiss my friend as 'corny' and 'dated.' Though these comments brought a high color to my cheeks, I failed to defend my friend for fear their derision would focus upon myself.
For this cowardice, I still feel the sting of shame. Older and wiser now, I've since learned that true loyalty means one must be willing to stand up for a friend no matter the cost to yourself.
Now, you may wonder, how is it that Miss Drew is brought to mind seemingly apropos of nothing? In was, it fact, a note of Miss Violet's and her link to the interview with Miss Martindale (nee Miss Scarlett) and Miss Priscilla Langridge discussing - (swelling ominous organ music) The Secret of St. Bride's.
"Aha, the game's afoot!" I exclaimed. Intrepid sleuth that I am and remembering my old friend, I made my way to St Bride's School. But I soon find this is one mystery which is wrapped in an enigma, packaged in a paradox and cloaked by a conundrum. I must help Miss Trixie Trinian discover why she has been transported back to a girl's boarding school circa 1929. Before I know it I am faced with the following dilemma-
A MUSHROOM? Is anyone else reminded of a maid on this very fora? This cannot be a coincidence. And later...
Miss Daffodil may be quite literally late to the game (23 years?), but with her companions Cynthia, Fiona and, of course, Miss Nancy Drew by her side she shall prevail. That is assuming her friends will remain true blue don't 'cheese it,' as they say. (Will Nancy forgive my past faithlessness?)
PS- I know there's no cribbing allowed but I must admit to peeking across to another girl's exam to understand how to use the newspaper and the pencil to...
Joined: 07 Feb 2008 Posts: 335 Location: In a strange and scary place on a long journey homeward.
Posted: Tue Oct 07, 2008 9:31 pm Post subject:
Well, as you see, the Great Aristasian Mushroom Cult did not begin with the mere self.
I believe you need an emulator for a prehistoric ordinator in order to play these games - but such emulators are freely available on-line.
Miss Finesmith - I LOVE your diaries. I am quite red with shame that I have not contributed more myself. I keep meaning to but I am such a strange-looking lazy mushroom that I have been beastly-bad about it.
Miss Finesmith, you are the life and soul of the Diaries, please continue.
let me at least contribute a joke.
A blonde goes into a dentist's surgery and says, "Doctor - I am turning into a moth."
The brunette dentist looks at the blonde, who appears to her perfectly normal - physically at least, and says: "Madam I cannot help you. I am not the kind of doctor you want."
The blonde says, "But Doctor - I am turning into a moth."
The dentist says, "Madam, I am a dentist. Why did you come into my surgery of all places?"
Oh, Miss Finesmith, don't stop writing! I do love reading your Diary--shame on me for never telling you so! And just look at how many views your Diary has. Nearly a thousand!
I recall enjoying the Miss Drew mysteries myself. (I should find them again, shouldn't I?) Do not feel badly about not defending her! It is one of those difficult situations that children must unfortunately face in the Pit, and as children it is hard to figure out what decision is the right one.
Besides, your classmates were probably just jealous that they were not clever enough to solve the mysteries themselves, or that nobody was writing books about them, or even that they did not look as pretty as Miss Drew does on the covers.
But mine is for Max OS X. I'm sure there are loads available for PCs.
Miss Sushuri, when I came upon that Mushroom you could have knocked me over with a... well, a fungus! My mouth was just agape. I adore your sense of humor, perhaps you could post more jokes in your own diary as you get time. I do know you are busy.
Miss Yu, it's absolutely true what you say about my classmates, I'm sure. Oh, and if you really would care to visit with Miss Drew again there are copies of the Trent editions on ebay which are quite reasonable, that is if you think under $10 is worthwhile?
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