Tuesday, 8 January 2008
When I started this Greek lark just over a year ago, I was faced with the daunting task of learning all the vocabulary of the language. The first thing I did was start reading News websites, which I would do with a dictionary in my hand looking up almost every word. I made some effort to write down the words I was looking up, but I just ended up with huge lists every day.
Now things are somewhat better, and I only need to look up a few words. I write down some of them, mainly ones I get when I'm watching TV. It occurred to me that I could pick one of these each day as the theme for my blog. If this doesn't seem like a good idea to you, don't worry, as I can't imagine I'll keep it going for long - I'm one of these people who starts things and never finishes them!
Cinderella Part II
Cinderella finally sat down, exhausted, but with the feeling of a job well done. You could eat your dinner off that floor - actually, the dog often did. She heard heavy footsteps approach and stop outside the door.
"Take your boots off before you come in. I didn't spent all day scrubbing this sodding floor for you to trail horse shit all over it!", she yelled.
There was a grunt, and one by one the sound of two boots hitting the stone slabs of the corridor, and finally Prince Charming entered, in full hunting gear (minus the boots, of course).
"I do wish you wouldn't use such language darling", he said in clipped tones, "and a Princess really shouldn't be spending all her time cleaning. We have servants for that."
"But they never do it properly.", argued Cinderella, "Anyway, I've got to something whilst you torture those poor senseless animals."
"That's no way to talk about my ministers, Cindy. Anyway, I'm all yours now." He said, as he started to take off his shirt.
"Oh no!", moaned Cinderella, "I've just finished this. I'm too knackered. Anyway, you've got plenty of wenches for that."
"But they never starch my collars properly, you know that.", the Prince replied, handing Cinderella his shirt, which she reluctantly carried over to the sink.
"We've got to look our best tomorrow", continued the Prince, "because the Emperor is coming to a State Banquet."
"Oh, not that stuck up old git!"
"And you my dear, well, you'd better keep your mouth shut. Do you hear? I'm hoping that we can sign a new peace treaty. Remember his armies are capable of wiping us out if he gives the order."
"All right, I won't say a word. What if I don't go?"
"You've got to come, Cindy. You know how famous you are. Word of your beauty and purity of soul have reached the farthest corners of civilisation."
"Purity? Ha, Ha, Ha!"
The next day everything was splendid. The chefs had been working for weeks to prepare the choicest dishes - it was rumoured that half of the country's annual tax returns had been spent on this one meal. Everyone was dressed in their finest robes, and Ciderella looked radiant. When the Emperor first set eyes on her it took him some time to regain his powers of speech before he could congratulate the Prince on his beautiful bride.
The meal started well. Conversation was polite but friendly. And then disaster struck! The Prince's beautiful wife showed just how ladylike she wasn't. Unused to the rich food (they usually made do with stew), she was overcome with a loud bout of flatulence. The sound reverberated through the hall. The Emperor looked down at his plate. No-one knew what to say.
"Better out than in, eh?", said Cinderella. The Emperor pretended to be studying his plate even more carefully.
"Oh come on, don't be so stuffy!", said the beautiful Princess, and she threw a roast potato at the Emperor, which hit him on his forehead.
The Prince had his head in his hands, and was peering through the cracks in his fingers, whimpering slightly.
The Emperor slowly looked up. "So it's war." He said in measured tones.
The Emperor's Royal Guard unseathed their swords, and on the other side of the hall, the Prince's did the same. Both groups stepped nearer the table.
The Prince looked up to try and placate his guest - and was hit on the nose by a large bone which the Emperor had launched in his direction.
Soon the only person not laughing was the Royal Chef, as his carefully prepared banquet became the ammunition of a royal food fight. Needless to say, the peace treaty was signed (after everyone had had a shower and a change of clothes).
And they all lived Happily Ever After.