You didn't ask for it, but you're gonna get it anyway...
I never got round to finishing my Hogswatch Fluff - mainly due to days being filled with the need to "CLEAN ALL THE THINGS!!!" and "GO CHRISTMAS SHOPPING LIKE A M__ F__ ADULT!!!"
(I'll get it done by New Year I promise)
Anyway. In place of that delightful little gem I bring you this: A collaborative effort from the whole family, our Christmas insanity. With influence from Josephine and Christine-Pullen-Thompson, Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen, P.G. Wodehouse and many, many others. Oh and the Ballet of Cinderella we were watching last night.
Some background: BigSis demanded I entertained her with a story as she prepared the puddin' part of dinner (lunch for you soft southern pansies). I began it in all innocence, but it became corrupted rather quickly. This is the written down version, edited as we went along. Oh, and it's completely un-beta-ed.
For Want Of A Horsebox
Once upon a time, a very long time ago...
[small pause while TH assists BigSis in the preparation of the custard for the Christmas Pudding]
Once upon a time, there was a little girl...
[Interruption while parental unit tidies something incomprehensible away]
Once upon a time... [TH looks out of window from perch on kitchen top] ... It was Snowing...
It had been snowing and our heroine was mopping the wet footprints from the floor in the small hovel she lived in with her only living relative. Her name was Ethel [or possibly Edna, we kept forgetting] and her father had taken to drink the very night her mother had died in childbirth delivering her baby brother. [who had also died. So Sad]
As she wielded her mop there was an explosion of smoke from the stove and someone threw a shoulder against the door to the fire compartment and rolled out across the floor. [cos seriously, who has a stove AND a fireplace in the same kitchen?]
"Goodness," said our heroine [despite her low birth she non-the-less held all the manners necessary to be considered a lady due to her friendship with the daughter of the squire up at the big house - Jennifer - who had gone away to London]
The smoke cleared to reveal a lady with the singed remains of what had obviously been enormous hair and a shiny dress.
"I am your fairy godmother," she coughed and shook her head, releasing a swarm of sooty particles. "I am here to grant you a wish, what would you like?"
"A PONY!" [Our heroine had used to ride Jennifer's pony until as mentioned above she went away to London. You're supposed to be remembering these things. And all little girls want a pony]
"Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Her fairy godmother attempted to straighten the devastation of her hairdo. "You're much too grown-up for a pony now, it will have to be a horse."
And with a puff of smoke there was a large bay mare standing in the kitchen.
[moving along - she decided to call the bay mare Snowy and there having been an invitation from Jennifer to spend Christmas with Jennifer's fiancé's family (they met in London where Jennifer was one of the modern set with clothes and hair cigarette holders {and bathrooms - don't ask}. His name was Tarquin something or other but everyone called him Boffo]
As she hacked across the countryside, [too poor to box Snowy] Edith/Edna/Ethel thought of the week ahead of her. She hadn't seen Jennifer for years, but they had been such close friends there was the greatest possibility that everything would go well. Snowy was light and responsive under her hands, a little spirited perhaps, but lively and willing. It seemed hardly any time had passed before she reached Boffo's family mansion [though it had actually been 3 days and she had had to stay in an inn]
As Snowy danced her way up the curved carriage sweep, our heroine was looking around at the snow-covered trees and therefore didn't see the dashing young man standing on the front steps, his spaniel at his feet. He was about to go hunting and thus had a gun. [BigSIs thinks it's important you have an explanation for why he has the spaniel. She also wants you to know it's an albino spaniel and thus difficult to see against the snow. Maternal unit overruled her with the assertion that it should be liver and white. Just so you know? It's just a spaniel. Normal like.]
Unfortunately, though her mind was on higher things, Snowy was more aware of her surroundings and spotted the whiteliver and white canine. Startled, the mare reared, giving the as yet un-named gentleman a full demonstration of our heroine's good seat as Snowy danced her way toward the treeline. Quickly catching the spaniel, our hero [what? Did you think he would be anything other than the hero? We've already said he was dashing] could only apologise and wait to catch the bridle as our heroine brought the frightened animal back under control.
Lifting her down from the saddle he introduced himself as Boffo's old school chum, Henry Chuffington-Huffington-Forthorington-Smythe (or Spog). He then escorted her up the steps, impressed upon the butler that she was to be extended every courtesy and took himself away to shoot stuff.
He saw no more of her until they were all gathered in the drawing room before dinner. Our heroine was dressed in one of Jennifer's gowns [poor as she and her drunk father were, she had no clothes worthy of such a gathering - except the riding clothes the fairy godmother had delivered with the horse and that she had worn to hack over. And they were the same size, her and Jennifer. All horsey women are ALWAYS the same size]. It was a beautiful gown, cut delicately to emphasise her figure and a pale moss green that drew out the colour of her eyes [whatever colour they were. We couldn't decide. The important thing was that Spog was well hot for her in it]
Spog engaged her in conversation, at first for politeness's sake, Boffo had eyes for no-one but his fiancée, whom he addressed as "Rabbit" and his parents were having a domestic, but as time went on he found he wanted to talk to her because she was clever and witty and laughed at all his jokes and agreed with him about everything.
After dinner they walked through empty rooms in the house, finding the picture gallery, and standing a long time in one of the un-curtained windows, watching the lanky shadows on the moonlit lawn. He escorted her back to her room and kissed her hand at the doorway, leaving her to smile beatifically at her bedroom ceiling for an ecstatic fifteen minutes before falling into a deep sleep filled with enchanting dreams.
The next morning she woke late to persistent rain [clearing later, possible sunny periods, wind speed about 3 knots, visibility poor, but improving]. Arriving in the breakfast parlour she found there only the detritus of those that had been before her but the servants brought her fresh coffee [mmm, coffee] and toast.
"The gentlemen are reading the papers in the library," the butler informed her as he left.
Breakfasting quickly she made her way to the library in order to be reunited with her hero. The library has a recessed door [for plot and misunderstanding purposes, all the best architects include them] and she heard the Boffo and Spog talking before she saw them.
[Dialogue goes here. Something bluff and hearty, probably including the phrase "more brandy, old bean?" Basically she thinks Spog is saying he can't marry her cos she's not posh enough but really he's not. BigSis does not approve of my shenanagins. BigSis is however NOT BEING VERY HELPFUL ABOUT IT AND JUST SITTING THERE READING HEYER AND LAUGHING!!!!!
{Misunderstanding goes here...}]
Tearing away, her eyes filled with tears, she stumbled away. Making her way to the stables she found Snowy and wept into her neck for a while. Finally she raised her head, wiped her eyes on a corner of horse-blanket [remember the Horse-Blanket] and began to saddle up. The rain outside was still persisting (against all forecasts) and there was nothing for it but to ride out and get drenched [or something {BigSis decided to help NOW...} Let there be downpours]
It rained. She rode on. Snowy got wet. She got wet. And in a break with tradition it was the horse that got Pnewnomy not our heroine [we didn't want to get sued by Austen]. Snowy had sneezed as they rode into the inn stableyard but our heroine was too exhausted and blinded by her tears to do anything more than hand over the bay mare to the ostler and stumble within.
[Right. He finds out she's missing, looking for her everywhere, doesn't find her. The groom hears through the local grapevine that she's staying in the inn in that place and that the horse has pneumonia and will likely die and the girl has been nursing the horse for a good few days. It's a VERY good local grapevine, especially considering it's all filtered through his relationship with a lady's maid in the next county]
Riding into the inn's stable yard Spog caught her leaving a stable box, her head hanging with exhaustion. Quickly dismounting, and leaving his reins to his groom to hold, he hurried across the yard. She raised a pale sorrowful face to him, dark circles under her eyes.
"Oh," she said in surprise [BigSis NOT GOOD AT DIALOGUE. Apparently I haven't put the right inflection in it...]
"Let me help you." He reached out and caught her hands in a strong clasp. "For Snowy's sake."
She wavered, but hearing the terrible breathing in the stable behind her, relented and stood aside to allow him into the stable.
"I brought my groom, he's an expert in cases like this. He saved the life of my reliable black gelding, Rob Roy."
She had followed him into the stable and now turned as another form blocked the light. At her welcoming nod, the groom hurried forward and knelt beside the labouring horse. He examined her closely, two pairs of anxious eyes upon him, and then stood again.
"I's a bad case ma'am, but I'm sure we can save her. You leave it to me."
"Let me take you away from all this." Spog had taken her arm, a strong comforting support and she couldn't help leaning into him a little as she let him lead her away. The winter air outside the warm stable brought on a shiver and he looked around for somewhere warmer that he could let her rest. The tackroom was visible across the yard and he led her there, seating her on a haybale out of the wind. [I apologise for all the description but they need a REASON to go into the tack room despite everything that BigSis says about him only wanting his wicked way.]
He left her there as he traced a murmuring sound to a kettle boiling on a small stove in the corner of the room. The bucket of mash beside it told him it was her doing. He looked around for some way to make coffee [delicious coffee] but when he turned back to ask her whether there were teacups he found her eyelashes had fallen to cover those beautiful [colour] eyes. She was asleep. He covered her with his cloak a horseblanket [the parental unit's only input. Treasure it well, we did].
[BigSis is worried that it's long. No-one tell her about my 37 page/4 posts epic chapter. BigSis has also forgotten their names]
Ok. so, where were we? Oh yeah, she's snoring and he's all caring. [And apparently watching her sleep, cos that's not creeper behaviour. At least he didn't have to oil the window so that she didn't hear him come in. ROCKING CHAIR!!!!!!!! {BigSis is insistent that his watching her sleep is perfectly respectable and in a non-twilight way.]
The groom had just left, closing the door quietly behind him, when her eyelashes fluttered and then slowly opened.
"Snowy's fine," he murmured, leaning forward and taking her hand.
The fear that had begun to dawn in her eyes was banished and instead she treated him to the beauty of her smile. Clasping his hand she allowed him to draw her to her feet. She allowed him to tuck her hand in his arm as they crossed the yard and peeked in at the bay mare, now resting quietly and mouthing at her bran mash.
Then they went to dinner.
She wore the same dress as Jennifer had leant her, but modified by various small additions. [the maternal unit suggested reins] He didn't notice because he was a man. He was, however, a gentleman and made polite conversation all through the dinner, not once making reference to their night of hand holding and deep looks, or her rapid departure the following morning. She, for her part, managed to laugh at his jokes... [etc etc... with elephants, male]
After dinner they went to see Snowy again, now lying down and snoring cheerfully. As they leant over the stable door he dared once again to take her hand. He confessed his love, she said "oh, go on then." [BigSis again] and allowed him to take her in his arms.
There was kissing.
[BigSis says I can't say the heat of their passion melted the icicles that hung on the edge of the stable roof.]
Apotheosis
He took her to his mother's, with Snowy. They got married (Jennifer was her matron of honour, and Boffo his best man, they came back from Paris for the ceremony) and had millions of childrens. Our heroine bred from Snowy and she had a foal every year. All of which were trained by our Edna/Ethel/Edith, she of the soft hands and good seat. One of them won young hunter of the year. And also the Olympics.
When Snowy got old she was retired to the orchard, with RobRoy for company and they could often be found, necks entwined, drunk off their faces on rotten apples.
The End.
[Apologies. We're not even drunk. Never come visit us when we're en masse, the insanity is contagious. Fun. But Contagious.]
(I'll get it done by New Year I promise)
Anyway. In place of that delightful little gem I bring you this: A collaborative effort from the whole family, our Christmas insanity. With influence from Josephine and Christine-Pullen-Thompson, Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen, P.G. Wodehouse and many, many others. Oh and the Ballet of Cinderella we were watching last night.
Some background: BigSis demanded I entertained her with a story as she prepared the puddin' part of dinner (lunch for you soft southern pansies). I began it in all innocence, but it became corrupted rather quickly. This is the written down version, edited as we went along. Oh, and it's completely un-beta-ed.
For Want Of A Horsebox
Once upon a time, a very long time ago...
[small pause while TH assists BigSis in the preparation of the custard for the Christmas Pudding]
Once upon a time, there was a little girl...
[Interruption while parental unit tidies something incomprehensible away]
Once upon a time... [TH looks out of window from perch on kitchen top] ... It was Snowing...
It had been snowing and our heroine was mopping the wet footprints from the floor in the small hovel she lived in with her only living relative. Her name was Ethel [or possibly Edna, we kept forgetting] and her father had taken to drink the very night her mother had died in childbirth delivering her baby brother. [who had also died. So Sad]
As she wielded her mop there was an explosion of smoke from the stove and someone threw a shoulder against the door to the fire compartment and rolled out across the floor. [cos seriously, who has a stove AND a fireplace in the same kitchen?]
"Goodness," said our heroine [despite her low birth she non-the-less held all the manners necessary to be considered a lady due to her friendship with the daughter of the squire up at the big house - Jennifer - who had gone away to London]
The smoke cleared to reveal a lady with the singed remains of what had obviously been enormous hair and a shiny dress.
"I am your fairy godmother," she coughed and shook her head, releasing a swarm of sooty particles. "I am here to grant you a wish, what would you like?"
"A PONY!" [Our heroine had used to ride Jennifer's pony until as mentioned above she went away to London. You're supposed to be remembering these things. And all little girls want a pony]
"Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Her fairy godmother attempted to straighten the devastation of her hairdo. "You're much too grown-up for a pony now, it will have to be a horse."
And with a puff of smoke there was a large bay mare standing in the kitchen.
[moving along - she decided to call the bay mare Snowy and there having been an invitation from Jennifer to spend Christmas with Jennifer's fiancé's family (they met in London where Jennifer was one of the modern set with clothes and hair cigarette holders {and bathrooms - don't ask}. His name was Tarquin something or other but everyone called him Boffo]
As she hacked across the countryside, [too poor to box Snowy] Edith/Edna/Ethel thought of the week ahead of her. She hadn't seen Jennifer for years, but they had been such close friends there was the greatest possibility that everything would go well. Snowy was light and responsive under her hands, a little spirited perhaps, but lively and willing. It seemed hardly any time had passed before she reached Boffo's family mansion [though it had actually been 3 days and she had had to stay in an inn]
As Snowy danced her way up the curved carriage sweep, our heroine was looking around at the snow-covered trees and therefore didn't see the dashing young man standing on the front steps, his spaniel at his feet. He was about to go hunting and thus had a gun. [BigSIs thinks it's important you have an explanation for why he has the spaniel. She also wants you to know it's an albino spaniel and thus difficult to see against the snow. Maternal unit overruled her with the assertion that it should be liver and white. Just so you know? It's just a spaniel. Normal like.]
Unfortunately, though her mind was on higher things, Snowy was more aware of her surroundings and spotted the whiteliver and white canine. Startled, the mare reared, giving the as yet un-named gentleman a full demonstration of our heroine's good seat as Snowy danced her way toward the treeline. Quickly catching the spaniel, our hero [what? Did you think he would be anything other than the hero? We've already said he was dashing] could only apologise and wait to catch the bridle as our heroine brought the frightened animal back under control.
Lifting her down from the saddle he introduced himself as Boffo's old school chum, Henry Chuffington-Huffington-Forthorington-Smythe (or Spog). He then escorted her up the steps, impressed upon the butler that she was to be extended every courtesy and took himself away to shoot stuff.
He saw no more of her until they were all gathered in the drawing room before dinner. Our heroine was dressed in one of Jennifer's gowns [poor as she and her drunk father were, she had no clothes worthy of such a gathering - except the riding clothes the fairy godmother had delivered with the horse and that she had worn to hack over. And they were the same size, her and Jennifer. All horsey women are ALWAYS the same size]. It was a beautiful gown, cut delicately to emphasise her figure and a pale moss green that drew out the colour of her eyes [whatever colour they were. We couldn't decide. The important thing was that Spog was well hot for her in it]
Spog engaged her in conversation, at first for politeness's sake, Boffo had eyes for no-one but his fiancée, whom he addressed as "Rabbit" and his parents were having a domestic, but as time went on he found he wanted to talk to her because she was clever and witty and laughed at all his jokes and agreed with him about everything.
After dinner they walked through empty rooms in the house, finding the picture gallery, and standing a long time in one of the un-curtained windows, watching the lanky shadows on the moonlit lawn. He escorted her back to her room and kissed her hand at the doorway, leaving her to smile beatifically at her bedroom ceiling for an ecstatic fifteen minutes before falling into a deep sleep filled with enchanting dreams.
The next morning she woke late to persistent rain [clearing later, possible sunny periods, wind speed about 3 knots, visibility poor, but improving]. Arriving in the breakfast parlour she found there only the detritus of those that had been before her but the servants brought her fresh coffee [mmm, coffee] and toast.
"The gentlemen are reading the papers in the library," the butler informed her as he left.
Breakfasting quickly she made her way to the library in order to be reunited with her hero. The library has a recessed door [for plot and misunderstanding purposes, all the best architects include them] and she heard the Boffo and Spog talking before she saw them.
[Dialogue goes here. Something bluff and hearty, probably including the phrase "more brandy, old bean?" Basically she thinks Spog is saying he can't marry her cos she's not posh enough but really he's not. BigSis does not approve of my shenanagins. BigSis is however NOT BEING VERY HELPFUL ABOUT IT AND JUST SITTING THERE READING HEYER AND LAUGHING!!!!!
{Misunderstanding goes here...}]
Tearing away, her eyes filled with tears, she stumbled away. Making her way to the stables she found Snowy and wept into her neck for a while. Finally she raised her head, wiped her eyes on a corner of horse-blanket [remember the Horse-Blanket] and began to saddle up. The rain outside was still persisting (against all forecasts) and there was nothing for it but to ride out and get drenched [or something {BigSis decided to help NOW...} Let there be downpours]
It rained. She rode on. Snowy got wet. She got wet. And in a break with tradition it was the horse that got Pnewnomy not our heroine [we didn't want to get sued by Austen]. Snowy had sneezed as they rode into the inn stableyard but our heroine was too exhausted and blinded by her tears to do anything more than hand over the bay mare to the ostler and stumble within.
[Right. He finds out she's missing, looking for her everywhere, doesn't find her. The groom hears through the local grapevine that she's staying in the inn in that place and that the horse has pneumonia and will likely die and the girl has been nursing the horse for a good few days. It's a VERY good local grapevine, especially considering it's all filtered through his relationship with a lady's maid in the next county]
Riding into the inn's stable yard Spog caught her leaving a stable box, her head hanging with exhaustion. Quickly dismounting, and leaving his reins to his groom to hold, he hurried across the yard. She raised a pale sorrowful face to him, dark circles under her eyes.
"Oh," she said in surprise [BigSis NOT GOOD AT DIALOGUE. Apparently I haven't put the right inflection in it...]
"Let me help you." He reached out and caught her hands in a strong clasp. "For Snowy's sake."
She wavered, but hearing the terrible breathing in the stable behind her, relented and stood aside to allow him into the stable.
"I brought my groom, he's an expert in cases like this. He saved the life of my reliable black gelding, Rob Roy."
She had followed him into the stable and now turned as another form blocked the light. At her welcoming nod, the groom hurried forward and knelt beside the labouring horse. He examined her closely, two pairs of anxious eyes upon him, and then stood again.
"I's a bad case ma'am, but I'm sure we can save her. You leave it to me."
"Let me take you away from all this." Spog had taken her arm, a strong comforting support and she couldn't help leaning into him a little as she let him lead her away. The winter air outside the warm stable brought on a shiver and he looked around for somewhere warmer that he could let her rest. The tackroom was visible across the yard and he led her there, seating her on a haybale out of the wind. [I apologise for all the description but they need a REASON to go into the tack room despite everything that BigSis says about him only wanting his wicked way.]
He left her there as he traced a murmuring sound to a kettle boiling on a small stove in the corner of the room. The bucket of mash beside it told him it was her doing. He looked around for some way to make coffee [delicious coffee] but when he turned back to ask her whether there were teacups he found her eyelashes had fallen to cover those beautiful [colour] eyes. She was asleep. He covered her with his cloak a horseblanket [the parental unit's only input. Treasure it well, we did].
[BigSis is worried that it's long. No-one tell her about my 37 page/4 posts epic chapter. BigSis has also forgotten their names]
Ok. so, where were we? Oh yeah, she's snoring and he's all caring. [And apparently watching her sleep, cos that's not creeper behaviour. At least he didn't have to oil the window so that she didn't hear him come in. ROCKING CHAIR!!!!!!!! {BigSis is insistent that his watching her sleep is perfectly respectable and in a non-twilight way.]
The groom had just left, closing the door quietly behind him, when her eyelashes fluttered and then slowly opened.
"Snowy's fine," he murmured, leaning forward and taking her hand.
The fear that had begun to dawn in her eyes was banished and instead she treated him to the beauty of her smile. Clasping his hand she allowed him to draw her to her feet. She allowed him to tuck her hand in his arm as they crossed the yard and peeked in at the bay mare, now resting quietly and mouthing at her bran mash.
Then they went to dinner.
She wore the same dress as Jennifer had leant her, but modified by various small additions. [the maternal unit suggested reins] He didn't notice because he was a man. He was, however, a gentleman and made polite conversation all through the dinner, not once making reference to their night of hand holding and deep looks, or her rapid departure the following morning. She, for her part, managed to laugh at his jokes... [etc etc... with elephants, male]
After dinner they went to see Snowy again, now lying down and snoring cheerfully. As they leant over the stable door he dared once again to take her hand. He confessed his love, she said "oh, go on then." [BigSis again] and allowed him to take her in his arms.
There was kissing.
[BigSis says I can't say the heat of their passion melted the icicles that hung on the edge of the stable roof.]
Apotheosis
He took her to his mother's, with Snowy. They got married (Jennifer was her matron of honour, and Boffo his best man, they came back from Paris for the ceremony) and had millions of childrens. Our heroine bred from Snowy and she had a foal every year. All of which were trained by our Edna/Ethel/Edith, she of the soft hands and good seat. One of them won young hunter of the year. And also the Olympics.
When Snowy got old she was retired to the orchard, with RobRoy for company and they could often be found, necks entwined, drunk off their faces on rotten apples.
The End.
[Apologies. We're not even drunk. Never come visit us when we're en masse, the insanity is contagious. Fun. But Contagious.]