Mail trail with Lord Rendlesham of Suffolk

29 January - 2 February 2013

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Date: Sat, 2 Feb 2013, 17:46
From: Lord Tellson
To: Miss Mo
Re: M'Lord

you must watch the interview with francis bacon by melvyn bragg on you tube "i believe nothing. we're born and we die and that's it."

when shall we meet - it's tough with the baby and you have to bring a team of sherpas with you even if you just want to buy another packet of Doritos?


-------- Original-Nachricht --------
Datum: Fri, 1 Feb 2013 23:52:18 +0000
Von: Miss Mo
An: Lord Tellson
Betreff: Re: M'Lord

M'Lord (General Poofter in Command)

It is with a little twist of pity and moderate alarm, to infer from your correspondence, that your mental capacity appears to have diminished, only a mere soupçon, since last time I had the fortune of clapping eyes on you, Sire.

I am loath to point out that "coffee"  perhaps may not be the quite the shade unless, of course, you favour insipid lattes above full-strength espressos.

I am deeply concerned to hear that m'lordship is suffering from Dorian Greyesque angst. May I suggest that perhaps all mirrors are shattered and dispensed with henceforth? I should be so relieved if one's household could arrange that, though I do appreciate that one can't find reliable staff these days. My heart is with you in these domestic matters, and bleed in exasperated empathy.

I do like your description of "chirpy". However I must admit, with blushed cheeks, that my birdsong is not as chipper as it once was.

Such are the vagaries of Time. We die from the moment one is shat out on this planet.

I will be eternally grateful of your kind and most magnanimous offer of a donation. Your philanthropic deeds are boundless. The Most Worshipful Gaggle of Gossips would be delighted, and humbled, if you would consider a donation toward their yarn. 100% Pure Silk Fabrication is their most needed at present and, indeed, the most fashionable worst of today, I am told. There are small mercies for having to endure the Huguenot arrival and presence on our blessed shores ... at least they had the common decency to bring their
nuance of colour, shade and vibrancy to the fabric of English life.

Your continued benevolence will ensure that for generations to come, The Gossips may sit in the blissful knowledge that they can fulfil their honourable and much needed duties as veritable witnesses to bastard births.

May the tapestries flow, may you live long, in your moulding and dank suburban manor.

Yours servantly

Madame Mo
Waterloo


Sent from my iPad

On 1 Feb 2013, at 22:48, "Poofy Tellson" wrote:

Lord rendlesham is amused to hear from you. He remembers you as chirpy ethnic coffee coloured lady from abroad. Sadly, as a winner in the game of life, Lord R is far too busy bursting into tears when he looks in the mirror to meet you socially but he would
like to make a donation to a charity of your choice - may i suggest something of an Oriental nature?



-------- Original-Nachricht --------
Datum: Tue, 29 Jan 2013 01:29:20 +0000
Von: Miss Mo
An: Lord Poofy Tellson
Betreff: M'Lord

Dear Lord Tellson

How are you preparing for old age now that you work with the old boogers? I hope it provides you with an insight of how not to end up on the dung heap of 21st century growing-oldness.

It was lovely visiting your beautiful wife and trouper of a son - he is a beaut - and clearly an engine of magnificent babyness. (How the bloody hell do you do it? Gorgeous clever Natalie and now a second sprog!)

He's got the longest legs ever seen of a bubba. You must both be very proud indeed.

I'm hoping to make a Houdini-type escape from this grey canopy people keep referring to as a "sky". It beats me. So I'm wondering how to escape the clutches of the current political noose and scaffold. Work till I drop, or ... pack my bags and stuff it all?

If you ever fancy coming up to the Royal Festival Hall, it's a very civilised place at the weekends in particular for bubs and toddlers, and the working poor and middle-classes can be seen picnicking together indoors with their packed luncheons, flasks of tea and whatnot and they can pretend that they are having a lovely cultural time of it all and that
life is indeed rosy. I could Zimmer-frame over with a nice collection of mini tartlets and rendezvous perhaps?

Feels you with horror?

My homeland beckons, soon soon now. If only to be hung, drawn and quartered in sunnier climes.

See you anon.

Yeu-Ing

p.s. photos from a flying visit to Edinburgh last week ...

Tomb Sweeping, Ancestor's Day, Golden Mountain, northern Taiwan.

My first ever fascinating day at the Wu Family ancestral tomb, against the backdrop of a very misty dark-forested Golden Mountain.

Watch this space ...

Pigs' intestines, dumplings, pandas and pangolins

Thursday 4 April was Children's Day, and today is the day you pay respects to your ancestors, and sweep the family tomb ... I'll find out the proper name for this public holiday for next time. Four days' holiday (including the weekend), and I gather that is a big deal here. Office workers and schoolchildren get lucky, but everywhere else, life seems to retail- and restaurant-on.

I've actually been too stuffed to write anything lately. Maybe I've been sinking into a nonchalant piggy kind of heaven, where being so well fed, I lose the urge, will and edge to do anything of any import. Except to just pig out some more. I'm sure that's being a bit unfair on our porcine chums, though.

Tonight, I was very tempted to indulge in that most depraved and excessive of Roman Empire habits. The one of taking an emetic in between courses in order to throw up and carry on eating again. And, yes, I enjoyed eating pigs' larger intestines tonight. Cousin Dennis treated me to a truly astounding gastronomic blow-out today in a newly-discovered restaurant of his that specialises in food from Taiwan. We had a dish from Tainan which sent me to heaven, but with all the myriad of small dishes we had, I can't for the life of me remember what it comprised. It's a brilliant traditional little eatery in Yongchun, in Taipei City. I highly recommend it. Almost everything is homemade. There is such amazingly good quality food when eating out in Taipei - with so much choice - but this place really is a gem.

All I do is Eat, Sleep. Eat more and maybe sleep a bit, then eat more. I'm either about four months preggers, or I'm turning into a mini Giant Panda ... maybe time to hit the hay, or should I say, bamboo?

Talking of pandas, I'm rather looking forward to visiting them in Taipei Zoo. That means two sets of Giant Pandas in the last three months. Edinburgh in January, and now in Taipei. I am quite chuffed, and I hope you are very jealous indeed. I'm looking forward to meeting this particular lovely creature very soon.

Also, I hope to find some Chinese (Sunda) Pangolins. I love 'em. Haven't ever seen a live one, and am very excited. I think, but don't quote me on this, that the team at Taipei Zoo were pioneers in breeding this critically endangered prehistoric species in captivity. They are being hunted to the brink of extinction, as their scales fetch up to about $50 per kilo for Traditional Asian medicine. And in certain restaurants in south east Asia, and the Far East - you will find Pangolin Foetus Soup. Just even thinking about it depletes me of expletives - and you know that really is something.

It's now 01:10. The rain has got much heavier and a thunderstorm has just started. In the last few days, it's rained quite heavily overnight. Sometimes the downpour wakes me up. With the rumble of a thunderstorm, it gives the rain that added excitement, I find. The precipitation for me doesn't seem to be such a damp annoying squib, and the thunderclaps somehow give the rain more meaning ... if that can possibly make sense?

I'm doubting anything much can make sense with the amount of food I've been stuffing myself with. It feels I'm literally full-to-brimming with dumplings-for-brains, these days.

I'd better get some sleep as I'm being picked up and swished away very early to visit my maternal family's ancestral tomb ...

Oo, thunder and lightning. Even better.

Night night from me.

And, night night from Ling Li Xian Sheng (Mandarin for Mister Pangolin, I think ...) 

p.s. I mean, really, how can anyone put pangolin foetuses in soup? Or chop up their body parts for superstitious nonsense? These creatures have been on earth since prehistory. Get a grip, people. Save The Pangolin. We'll be going the same way as them if we are not careful.

p.s. Seeing as I've a pot belly (or should that be pork belly?) now, do you reckon that if I jump up and down a lot, and shake my arms and legs about, I will be able to spread the weight around a bit? I don't much like having these boney sticky-out angular elbows and skinny face. I feel like a grinning skeleton sometimes ...