Minimalist: The Real Story of Prince Charming.

"Take the money, leave the Prince" - Cinderella, a minimalist feminist.

“Take the money, leave the Prince” – Cinderella, minimalist feminist.

Cinders, the minimalist

Was a mere opportunist.

This girl had already got the gist:

Get money. Disappear in mist.

 

When this story first began

Prince Charming was a fine young man,

But after Cindy R he ran –

And let his life go down the pan.

 

Queen Mother warned of many woes:

« Miss Cinderella picks her nose!

She wears black laddered panty hose,

And on her legs a forest grows! »

 

But Charming yearned to have a whirl

With this obnoxious, haughty girl…

Whilst Cinderella dreamed of pearls

To tangle in her fake blonde curls.

 

He was rich and hot to trot,

So Cinderella hatched a plot

To snare her prince and grab the lot.

She said « yes » quick, and tied the knot.

 

Bright and early the next morning,

Cinders woke as light was dawning.

Scratching her armpits and yawning,

She hid beneath the palace awning.

 

« Time for some fun! » young Cindy said

When Charming staggered out of bed.

Bang! bang! bang! She shot him dead…

and on the floor poor Charming bled.

 

Jumping up and down with glee,

Cindy grabbed the cash to flee.

« Yippee-doo! It’s clear to see

That where there’s muck, there’s brass – for me! »

 

Cindy said, « I have to say

A life of crime does seem to pay.

Hip-hip hurray! Kaloo! Kalay!

I think I’ll do this every day ».

 

This post was inspired by this week’s photo challenge, “Minimalist”. 

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Endurance.

This week’s Photo Challenge, titled “Endurance”, really hit home.

This summer, I was in a small street in the busy centre of Cannes. As tourists shoved past each other, eyes glued on their smartphones, a movement caught my attention above their heads. A boring, grey pigeon. My eyes followed it as it headed straight for a nondescript windowsill. It landed softly. To my surprise, the window gently opened and a frail, carefully made-up retired lady appeared. I expected the pigeon to fly away, but it approached fearlessly, as if it had done so all its life.

The lady disappeared, then returned with something small in her hand. Passers-by tutted at me, bashing my legs with their shopping bags in their hurry to consume. I was in their way, mesmerized by an old lady and a bird repeating what appeared to be a long-established tradition above that busy street. A habit, a relationship. Real contact that had existed before I arrived and would do so long after – enduring friendship between a bird and a human who appeared to be paradoxically lonely in all the turmoil of the consumer world.

She sensed I was looking at her, turned her head towards me, and smiled. I pointed to my camera, and she nodded, then returned to her protégé. Here is the result.

IMG_5368

Daily Prompt: Vice.

I love listening to seagulls. The way they cry in a blustering winter sky can reduce me to tears – it takes me right back to my childhood, when I woke up every morning to the sound of their plaintive call above my attic bedroom.

But in town, they are awful creatures. They crap on everything, whether it moves or not. They attack tourists eating fish and chips, beat up postmen on their rounds, and have even been rumoured to pick on small dogs.

Today’s daily prompt asks for photos showing vice, and I immediately thought of my seagull pals. Here are a few snaps showing how lofty (haha), arrogant, self-important, proud and defiant they are.

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PS. If you haven’t been yet, please head over here and support my entry in the Expats Blog writing contest, “Ten Beret God Things to Know about France and the French” before it’s too late!

Weekly Photo Challenge: Habit.

The Weekly Photo Challenge asked for pictures of our habits, so here’s one of mine: Playing with Playmobils. Admittedly, (and luckily for my kids) I don’t do it every day.

Little My recently informed me that she had grown out of her Playmobil house. I protested hotly; she saw through all my lame excuses and kindly told me that if I wanted, I could keep it in my bedroom. I did. Partly because she may want to continue playing with it one day, and partly because… well… I enjoy creating alternative scenarios and taking photos of them.

PF was amused to find me playing quietly there after lunch today – the ideal occupation for a Sunday afternoon inside as the wind wails around the house. Here are a few of my creations over the years, depicting true life in Playmobilia (as opposed to the politically correct stuff our kids churn out). Hope you enjoy them.

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Culture

And another Daily Post challenge, but this time it’s a photo! A picture to define culture… Hmm… I have one of those. Taken back home in Cornwall a couple of years ago, this one portrays the great British pub culture, and the age-old conviction that our watering holes are no place for our offspring.

The unfortunate juxtaposition of the dog’s water bowl and the word of warning for thirsty parents outside this pub door was too tempting for words, and I couldn’t resist capturing the moment with Candide Canon. So go to the pub for a shot of British culture, by all means – this establishment kindly provides a bowl of water outside so that our kiddies don’t get thirsty while we’re getting drunk inside. Now that’s what I call good, British decency.

They can't come in, but feel free to leave them outside the pub door.  Copyright: Multifariousmeanderings.

They can’t come in, but feel free to leave them outside the pub door.
Copyright:  Multifarious meanderings.

Snapshots

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MM is back after a few days away from the ranch. Here are a few pics of what I saw there.  Back to service as usual soon – now I’m going to get my head around all the stuff you lot have written in my absence…..