Memo to self
Wednesday, August 20th, 2008 04:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanThis is as much a note to myself as it is a general journal post and it serves as a reminder that I should find the time to sit down and write something before the ideas that have coalesced fade away as one or two already have done.
So. New characters for Little Whittering-in-the-Stubble, to be developed as and when inspiration takes hold or a back story suggests itself for either or both.
1 – The unfortunately named Solomon Sabbath Shaggs: offspring of puritan stock. Runs local grocer’s shop and is the depressed and erstwhile head prophet of the now defunct local millennium cult. Solomon spends a great deal of time poring over old almanacs trying to work out what is wrong with the calendar and why the world negligently failed to end on New Year’s Day 2000 just after he had maxed out all his credit cards in what was supposed to be a symbolic knee in the groin to Mammon, not just a damned enjoyable holiday.
2 – Nobby Ribbentropp’s Dancing Corsairs: an amateur pub dance troupe sponsored by the local brewery and based in the local hostelry. They commenced life as Morris Dancers, but a mix up with the costumes and the subsequent delivery of a set of pirate clothes, followed my several nights’ drunken and uproarious debate changed their theme and direction for the foreseeable future. The Corsairs are managed by Ted “Nobby” Fellowes, the publican who is fond of ordering their dance routines whilst wearing a German Army officer’s field cap. He is unaccountably fond of his nickname and is the proud owner of an unrivalled collection of WW2 era German lederhosen.
That last bit may change as thoughts develop if I can think of something dafter…
So. New characters for Little Whittering-in-the-Stubble, to be developed as and when inspiration takes hold or a back story suggests itself for either or both.
1 – The unfortunately named Solomon Sabbath Shaggs: offspring of puritan stock. Runs local grocer’s shop and is the depressed and erstwhile head prophet of the now defunct local millennium cult. Solomon spends a great deal of time poring over old almanacs trying to work out what is wrong with the calendar and why the world negligently failed to end on New Year’s Day 2000 just after he had maxed out all his credit cards in what was supposed to be a symbolic knee in the groin to Mammon, not just a damned enjoyable holiday.
2 – Nobby Ribbentropp’s Dancing Corsairs: an amateur pub dance troupe sponsored by the local brewery and based in the local hostelry. They commenced life as Morris Dancers, but a mix up with the costumes and the subsequent delivery of a set of pirate clothes, followed my several nights’ drunken and uproarious debate changed their theme and direction for the foreseeable future. The Corsairs are managed by Ted “Nobby” Fellowes, the publican who is fond of ordering their dance routines whilst wearing a German Army officer’s field cap. He is unaccountably fond of his nickname and is the proud owner of an unrivalled collection of WW2 era German lederhosen.
That last bit may change as thoughts develop if I can think of something dafter…