Caedmon was an early English Christian poet who lived in Whitby in the 7th century. The writer of this blog has no pretensions to such exalted gifts, and for this reason (as well as the fact that the name has already been taken) has chosen his Cat. They say that a cat can look at a king; this cat certainly does that. He's also had a good Christian education from his master, and he's quite prepared to use it when necessary.
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
Beeby's New Boss
In these November days of damp, dreariness and biscuit, it's always refreshing to hear news that lifts the jaded spirits and cheers the flagging soul. Beeby See - that universally loathed soothsayer and bosom pal of the psychotic hag affectionately known as Guardy-Ann - has been going through some tough times lately, as certain inconvenienttruths concerning the unwholesomeantics of her departed eccentric entertainer Ine the Sovile have come to light; this has also been compounded by a certain news report she cheerfully issued recently, alleging all manner of loathsomecrimes and misdemeanours against a former Tree politico, whose sole sin was to have served under the former Tree Leader Hildebrand the Roofer (who incidentally happens to be one of the objective and impartial Beeby's most hated political figures). Unfortunately, the faithfully mindless drudges who gleefully served up this report didn't take the time or trouble to investigate these allegations to ascertain their veracity before making them public, and their primary witness suddenly (and terribly inconveniently) changed his story when he realised that the Tree politico he'd initially named wasn't actually the guilty party. Oops-a-daisy. The blacksmiths of the Kingdom of Northumbria have been busy sharpeningknives, and Beeby has been sweating even more profusely than usual. As a token gesture, the dismal old bat dismissed her previous chief with a significant bribe to keep him quiet.
But all is not lost, so please don'tweep, despite your inclination to do so. Every clod has a sliver of lining. Cometh the hour, cometh the man. Aburr Gut-Harrdurr - the idiosyncratic, hook-handedVikingsweetheart - renowned for his deep affection for the Anglo-Saxon people and their Christian ways - has been released form the oubliette where he's been awaiting his deportation to his Nordic homeland. Apparently King Olaf doesn't want him back to grace his own shores, so he's been permitted to remain here to spread his love and happiness within this Realm. There's a job waiting for him, which will give him a golden opportunity to work for the first time in his life.
It's simply wonderful how things work out, isn't it?