I had a fab time in Monteagle. You lucky duck, getting to spend time in an old-timey cottage community, Est. 1882. Monteagle out-Bloomsburies Bloomsbury. In Monteagle, the furniture has 12 coats of paint, and busted-out cane seats are cherished. (Friends Don’t Re-Cane Friends.) The slipcovers have slipcovers, and the porches are hung with Sunday painter paintings and signs that say things like “Come Sit on My Porch.” (Which we interpreted as, “Come Over With Four or Five Friends To Take Pictures On My Porch at 7 a.m. When The Light Is Just How You Like It And Please Feel Free to Move Everything Around.”) You know how, when one is styling a picture, one has to scrounge around for “props” like gracefully rotted beadboard? In Monteagle, there is no scrounging. The beadboard flows, like Ro*Tel and white wine at Girls’ Night Out. Monteagle is the place good screen doors go when they die. I’d like to end up there myself, when my last coat of paint wears through.
A snapshot from this idyll: yesterday morning, we lit a fire in the fireplace. (For reasons that cannot be gone into in any detail. Suffice it to say, we felt like having a fire this fine June morning. We’ll do whatever the heck we wanna do! GOSH!) Five minutes into this experiment, the phone rang. I picked it up.
Mellow Gentlemanly Voice (Surely A Regular Ken Burns Narrator): “Why, hello, Ay-ann?”
Me: “No, this is Ann’s houseguest, Kay. Hello.”
MGV: “We noticed smoke coming out of Ann’s chimney and were wondering if she was in distress.”
Me: “No, no! No distress! We just lit a fire—long story. So sorry! We’re fine! Thanks for calling!”
As you know, I’m a little harried, and have a touch of the iron-poor blood, but I couldn’t resist signing up for DISH RAG TAG. Sign ups are limited! Rules are strict! Competition will be as tough as a Brillo pad!
I have until July 6 to take my Knitting Geritol, locate my lace mojo (I know it’s around here somewhere), and sign up for Melanie’s fabulous Mystery Stole Along for 2007. Be the first on your block to knit a brand-new Pink Lemon Twist pattern, and it’s free. Fabbywabby!
P.S. Back home, I am feeling insufficiently “ma’am”ed. Revel in the ma’aming.