Our bags are packed and the Charabanc awaits

Dear Chroniclers,

excitement is almost at fever-pitch in the House of electrofried as the time nears to visit our cousins on the opposite side of the pond. You see, we're about to celebrate a plumply rounded birthday in the life of mrs electrofried.

Time flies

I will not bore you, yet again, with tales from our teenaged past (more from fear of incurring the wrath of young teenygoth, as anything else) but suffice to say the dear lady is rather special. An under-statement if ever there was one!

So what more fitting way to say thank you to mrs electrofried for sharing her life with us than flying her across the Atlantic for two weeks pleasuring deep in the heart of Pennyslvania's Dutch Country. Oh, and teenygoth gets to go too.

Instructions to the Staff

Please do keep a weather-eye on the House whilst we're away. We will be leaving Fetlock in charge, a decision I fear we may have cause to regret come our return.

For some weeks now he's been beavering away in the Servants' Quarters, head buried deep in the well-thumbed, but grossly inaccurate Slovenian/English dictionary that is his faltering life-line to communication with the residents of Little Wittering.

If you do call by, expect to be greeted with the cryptic entreatment, "Dve karti za avtobusni izlet v Postojno?". This may come in handy should you indeed wish to purchase, "Two tickets for the guided bus tour to Postojna.", but otherwise is unlikely to be of much substantive use in ongoing conversational repartee.

The assembling of luggage

You will doubtless be pleased to learn I have given Fetlock the afternoon off to conserve his somewhat limited energies. He will need all his strength to hoist aboard our charabanc the substantial assortment of light hand-luggage and general trunkery that has been amassed by mrs electrofried in the upper reaches of the House.

The collection began some weeks ago with one small valise. It now covers most of the visible flooring area of one of the smaller bedrooms in the West Wing and spills over into a considerable portion of the backstairs.

Cook's Tours

Cook is far from pleased. Her garret hideaway lies immediately adjacent to mrs electrofried's luggage repository and the prospect of negotiating its straits whilst bearing her customary crated cargo of super-strength alcohol fills her (and us) with some dread.

It seems likely she will resolve this predicament by consuming half the contents of the crate before venturing past the box-room. Given past form, we anticipate a lager spillage of Exxion Valdez proportions.

In-flight Entertainment

I conducted a brief, but revealing, inspection of the hand-luggage earlier this morning.

Personally, I thought we might leave the Victrola behind for a well-needed "dust'n'lube". However, mrs electrofried is determined it must be packed, together of course with a small selection from her extensive and ever-expanding Perry Como collection.

She has even gone so far as to fashion a curious device out of a pair of heavily embroidered ear-muffs and a short length of garden-hosing. I am informed this is to convert the much-loved Victrola into a personal stereo unit for in-flight entertainment purposes, but I remain to be convinced this will be a viable option given the baggage constraints currently in operation on most Transatlantic flights.

Mrs electrofried is, however, a lady on a mission. And who am I to bet against her emerging victorious from battle with those who man the Customs Stall at Heathrow.

My contribution

Of course, I have made my own contribution to the ongoing luggage assembly. A crate has been duly packed with several Box Brownie bodies, an accompanying assortment of carefully dusted prime lenses and a box-load of freshly emulsioned glass plates.

Oh, and I've bought a clean pair of pants.

The call of the charabanc

Forgive me if I now bid you a fond farewell - I hear the familiar parp of the charabanc as it pulls up the drive toward the House. Happy journeyings all and see you in a few weeks' time.

best regards

electrofried (mr)