Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Riled AlertHeavens, what a to-do over my reaction to that blogger piece in the 'Islander'. I'm amazed so many people have even *heard* of the journal: it flops weekly onto my doormat, whereupon 'Rumsfeld', my untrustworthy Lurcher, snatches it up and retires to his gnawing corner where he seems to find the texture and flavor of the paper the ideal floss for his canines. (By the way, anyone clicking on the 'Lurcher' link might have been greeted by loud and vulgar music - sorry about that).
Yes, anyway ... phone calls, emails and even being waylaid in the Safeway aisles by concerned citizens, worried for my welfare and continued social standing among the Island élite. On the last point, I assure them that I buy quite enough drinks-all-round at the Harbor alehouse to have even the most anti-Brit yokel in my pocket. Nevertheless, the consensus seems to be that I should "modify" my entry.
OK, here goes, and students of the editorial art pay attention:
Perfect day with Number 1 daughter in the Groves of WWU Academe. A rollocking good luncheon at Shari's followed by "Team America". For me, a 4th viewing in my bid to get the words right on that splendid patriotic anthem. How does it go again? "AmeriCAH! Gosh, Yess!". Or words to that effect.
Thence back, zooming up the I5 in the blessèd company of fellow raod hogs who know what it is to hit and hold speeds in the high 80s.
Tiens! What awaits me on the mat? Unchewed by Rumsfeld (who cleverly locked himself in the conservatory and has spent a sulky and victual-less day awaiting Master's return), a copy of The Bainbridge Islander. And who is the comely lady adorning the front page? Zut alors, none other than clever blogista Julie Leung of Seedlings & Sprouts fame.
Uh ohh - there is *also* a list of other local blogs including yours truly's scurrilous offering.
Quick Watson, we have not a moment to lose: this calls for some drastic cleansing of certain churlish remarks made by me about my saintèd Island neighbours.
In his article, Mr Thomsen dubs Mrs Leung "The face of New Bainbridge", and I must say the prospect pleases. (Why *is* it that the Julies of this world are invariably fresh-faced, demure charmers, clearly wonderful mothers and devoted wives who live full and exuberant lives?)
Indeed, there *are* the Leung cherubs in the background, washing up and generally helping mum around the house.
I read down the list and see that les filles Leung - exquisitely named Abigail, Michaela and Elizabeth - even have their own blog.
And it doesn't end there: overleaf is moody shot of Leung père, clearly brooding on some final tweak to his own techie page.
Excellent article all round.
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