When Parliament gathered, there was barely enough space for all the sitting members. The King’s representative, the Chancellor sat behind a long wooden table in a large ornate chair. From there, he directed the activities of the members of the House according to the rules of Saint Olaf. Lacking ornamentation, the chamber was adequate for the purposes of parliament; that is, endless debates.
Princess Pirouette the Younger and her older sister Princess Gargella were both in big trouble with their parents. They’d committed the one unforgivable transgression; that is, they had been rude to an underling. Everyday of their lives they’d been instilled by their parents with the supreme importance of being polite at all times.
“No matter the occasion, when you are in public, smile!” Their mother had told them. “Always extend your hand to a courtier that he may kiss it.” “Never complain.” “You must be a beacon of civility.” On and on the strictures were pronounced upon them by their elders.
Here I submit some serious signage for the Which Way Photo Challenge.
I thought that this wrought iron arch looked groovy in the early morning light. There’s a hint of road in the lower righthand corner. Note the red Mustang that belongs to my beloved Dana. I’m one of the only people allowed to drive the sacred automobile.
Sculpture Saturday from Mind over Memory.
Had she lived in a different era, then Queen Pirouette would have known that it was simply a viral infection that took several of her children away from her so early in their lives. When Little GarGar took ill at eight years of age, he’d shown every sign of being a healthy and robust child. Sadly, in the eighth Winter of his life, what was certainly an influenza virus killed him in a matter of days. The physics had pulled their beards and made grand pronouncements in dead languages, assuring her that all would be well on one hand, and then warning her of dreadful outcomes with the other.
To see her boy suffer so, and after a day or two, show every sign of recovering, only to die a few days after that broke the Queen’s heart solidly in two. The half that continued to beat did so only for her husband and children. All the rest- wealth, power, glory, even beauty, were secondary to Her Majesty for the rest of her life. When it was her turn shuffle off of this mortal coil, she would be called Queen Pirouette the Wise by her grateful subjects.