I had finished work early and was sitting in the pub reading a book when Donna arrived. She was dressed quite normally, for her that is, in black jeans, pale blue shirt and black boots which came to her knees. Nellie was chatting to a customer over the counter, her large breasts resting on the bar like two cushions.
‘You know something, College, those knockers of hers have a life of their own.’
‘I’m not sure I approve of you looking at other girls’ knockers,’ I said tartly.
She ignored me and said, ‘We are back to swans I’m afraid. Do you know, perchance, the derivation of the term, “Swansong”?’
‘I believe it is based on a legend that mute swans are, as the name implies, mute throughout their lives until they are about to die, at which point they break into a mournful but beautiful song.’
‘Where do you get all this stuff? Thank you for clarifying that for me.’ I smiled. ‘I fear, however, that I have not yet finished in my attempt to tax your brain. There is another swan-related phrase which has been troubling me. Am I not correct in assuming that it is illegal to engage in sexual relations with animals?
‘I believe and hope so,’ I replied.
‘Indeed one would hope so, College, although there is a family rumour that my Auntie Betty’s husband, Ivan, whose nickname was “Goat,” honoured that law more in the breach, as the bard put it. It is said he had a penchant for, well, I expect you can surmise without my being too direct.’ I nodded. ‘But I digress. If congress of this nature is prohibited by the law of the land, how come every year they go swan upping on the Thames?
‘I do not think the word “upping” in this context implies any untoward molestation of said water-fowl.’ God, I thought, her language is catching. ‘Rather it refers to the practice of conducting a census of said birds, it being the sole right of the Monarch to lay claim to them.’
‘Well, I think it is a misleading term which people from other countries might well misinterpret, as indeed I have. Our country is home to many people from other nations and if they think the royals are up to their knees in waders, engaging in inappropriate activity with swans it could easily undermine the respect that that institution deserves. Why not just call it swan counting and avoid doubt?’
‘A good point, well made,’ I said taking her hand and squeezing it fondly. I looked deep into her mismatched eyes as often I did. There was mischief in them as she returned my gaze over the glass of Sauvignon she had been sipping throughout our conversation.
‘Finish your drink, College. I feel it is time we did a bit of Upping and this will not involve any counting.’
3 comments:
Giggling like mad here. Do you know I swear the American ‘boobs’ has supplanted our good old fashioned English ‘knockers’, although I do also have a penchant for ‘Bristols’ myself. Not sure I’d want to get honoured in the breach, although I understand some have a leaning that way. As for swan upping I’m glad that is confined to the Thames as I’ve always seen it is as a nasty southern habit. Other than that I’ve heard the royals do all kinds of things in waders, frankly it wouldn’t surprise me if they were into gasmasks too. Some have also been known to shout: ‘once more into the breach’ but we won’t go there as it involves the French too. However, I do have a friend who sings a song which has as its chorus ‘right up school’ but there again it was that type of school. Many thanks for starting my day with a giggle.
I won't have my fellow Celts -the Welsh talked about like that, besides who wears breaches these days.
There's always a hint of sunshine about your writing Monica.
I didn't see any mention of sheep Dan?
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