elegantly into the air by my harness (cunningly concealed in my fairy costume). Bob was huffing and puffing on the other end of the rope. I waggled my wings delicately and sang, “Lalalalalala, I am queen of the fairies.”
A dashing Oberon-like figure, I think it may have been Alex, shouted out, “Ah, my queen, well met by moonlight!!!”
I smiled at him as I adjusted my crown and wings. This time my ballet dress would not stick in the spokes of my bike. And catapult me through the fire curtains and into the backstage area. I knew this for a fact because I was not on a bike.
Vaisey, Jo, and Flossie were also dressed as fairies, and Honey as Puck started singing, “Isn’t she lovely!! Isn’t she wonderful?”
I was flying, I was gliding, my feet slightly off the ground, to give the impression of flight. The audience gasped at the beauty of it all. Oberon blew me a kiss. I blew him one back, thereby doing one-hand flying. It was so lovely.
Then a cry went up from somewhere offstage: “Don’t forget your Bottom!!!” and Dr. Lightowler in her cloak leapt onto the stage with a massive Dumbo the Elephant head. It had long floppy ears and a trunk. She shoved the Dumbo head over mine and I couldn’t see a thing.
I heard the audience gasp. As I was struggling to get the Dumbo head off, I started twirling round and round on the end of the rope. I was dizzy. I didn’t know where I was. I heard a voice shout, “Mind the wall, Dumbo!!”
Blinded, I crashed into the side wall and the whole of Dother Hall started to shake and fall down.
My corkers are on the move
I WOKE UP TO discover that I had gone blind. Oh nooooooo. It was only when I sat up that I remembered I’d put two slices of cucumber on my eyes overnight to make them sparkly for The Jones’s gig.
At this rate it might be the last gig I go to before I have to go back to Ireland. And my old life as a lanky fool.
Still, it had stopped raining. I can’t worry about every little thing.
About why Dr. Lightowler hates me and why she would put a Dumbo head on me.
Or about whether Dother Hall is going to stay open.
Or what Charlie means by “stuff.”
Or whether my corkers have grown overnight.
Hang on, I can worry about that, I’m going to measure.
Oh yes!!!!! Thirty inches and a third. Yippeeee … hang on a minute. It’s three days since I last measured so that means they are growing a third of an inch every three days. If they keep growing like this, I’ll have to be airlifted out of bed.
And how do they know to grow evenly?
Perhaps they don’t.
Maybe I should measure each one separately. I don’t want one being eight extra inches and one being only four inches.
I wish I had never started this now.
But, hey, I am here in Brontë country. This is not the place for having weak knees. This is the place for big, red sturdy knees. I don’t remember anything in Jane Eyre about her worrying about her corkers. In fact, I don’t think she even mentioned them. She was probably as worried as I am, but she didn’t mention it. Too many other things to worry about, like starvation and her husband imprisoning his first wife in the attic and then setting fire to himself.
I can learn something from Em, Chazza, and Anne. I will display Northern grit.
I washed and blow-dried my hair and made it va-va-voom. I feel better already.
As I was doing some practice swishing, Dibdobs shouted up the stairs, “See you later, Tallulah! We’re going to look for more volunteer knitters.”
And the door slammed.
I went down to the kitchen. Through the side window, I could see Dibdobs and the lunatic twins talking to people on the green. I saw Mrs. Wombwell hiding behind the church wall when she saw the Dobbinses approaching. I knew how she felt.
I wonder who will go to The Jones’s gig? I’m only going because Vaisey wants to see Jack so much. And Jo wants us Tree Sisters to give her moral support while she waits for Phil’s phone call. I am a very good pal
A dashing Oberon-like figure, I think it may have been Alex, shouted out, “Ah, my queen, well met by moonlight!!!”
I smiled at him as I adjusted my crown and wings. This time my ballet dress would not stick in the spokes of my bike. And catapult me through the fire curtains and into the backstage area. I knew this for a fact because I was not on a bike.
Vaisey, Jo, and Flossie were also dressed as fairies, and Honey as Puck started singing, “Isn’t she lovely!! Isn’t she wonderful?”
I was flying, I was gliding, my feet slightly off the ground, to give the impression of flight. The audience gasped at the beauty of it all. Oberon blew me a kiss. I blew him one back, thereby doing one-hand flying. It was so lovely.
Then a cry went up from somewhere offstage: “Don’t forget your Bottom!!!” and Dr. Lightowler in her cloak leapt onto the stage with a massive Dumbo the Elephant head. It had long floppy ears and a trunk. She shoved the Dumbo head over mine and I couldn’t see a thing.
I heard the audience gasp. As I was struggling to get the Dumbo head off, I started twirling round and round on the end of the rope. I was dizzy. I didn’t know where I was. I heard a voice shout, “Mind the wall, Dumbo!!”
Blinded, I crashed into the side wall and the whole of Dother Hall started to shake and fall down.
My corkers are on the move
I WOKE UP TO discover that I had gone blind. Oh nooooooo. It was only when I sat up that I remembered I’d put two slices of cucumber on my eyes overnight to make them sparkly for The Jones’s gig.
At this rate it might be the last gig I go to before I have to go back to Ireland. And my old life as a lanky fool.
Still, it had stopped raining. I can’t worry about every little thing.
About why Dr. Lightowler hates me and why she would put a Dumbo head on me.
Or about whether Dother Hall is going to stay open.
Or what Charlie means by “stuff.”
Or whether my corkers have grown overnight.
Hang on, I can worry about that, I’m going to measure.
Oh yes!!!!! Thirty inches and a third. Yippeeee … hang on a minute. It’s three days since I last measured so that means they are growing a third of an inch every three days. If they keep growing like this, I’ll have to be airlifted out of bed.
And how do they know to grow evenly?
Perhaps they don’t.
Maybe I should measure each one separately. I don’t want one being eight extra inches and one being only four inches.
I wish I had never started this now.
But, hey, I am here in Brontë country. This is not the place for having weak knees. This is the place for big, red sturdy knees. I don’t remember anything in Jane Eyre about her worrying about her corkers. In fact, I don’t think she even mentioned them. She was probably as worried as I am, but she didn’t mention it. Too many other things to worry about, like starvation and her husband imprisoning his first wife in the attic and then setting fire to himself.
I can learn something from Em, Chazza, and Anne. I will display Northern grit.
I washed and blow-dried my hair and made it va-va-voom. I feel better already.
As I was doing some practice swishing, Dibdobs shouted up the stairs, “See you later, Tallulah! We’re going to look for more volunteer knitters.”
And the door slammed.
I went down to the kitchen. Through the side window, I could see Dibdobs and the lunatic twins talking to people on the green. I saw Mrs. Wombwell hiding behind the church wall when she saw the Dobbinses approaching. I knew how she felt.
I wonder who will go to The Jones’s gig? I’m only going because Vaisey wants to see Jack so much. And Jo wants us Tree Sisters to give her moral support while she waits for Phil’s phone call. I am a very good pal
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