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Conspiracy is afoot! Not only has ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wolverine_nun successfully rallied the hordes into a Save the Piano Fund (the contemplation of which is making me extremely happy, so gratitude all round), but the bunny has finally, fittingly, bought it at the hands of an Infernal Device of considerable cunning and complexity, not to mention conspiracy.
Yesterday was a bit surreal. I spent it drifting around the house making desultory gestures of party-preparation, but at around lunchtime the Evil Landlord and the dreaded jo arrived, and proceeded to closet themselves in the garage with loud protestations about "cleaning" it, an occult process I was not permitted to witness. Thereafter a succession of gin and tonics moved steadily into the garage, and a succession of bangs, thuds, giggles, shrieks, yells and wild gales of laughter emerged from it. At some stage in the proceedings stv arrived and was sucked into the maelstrom. At intervals some member of the triumvirate would emerge, quarter the house restlessly, and depart with an unlikely selection of objects - the watering can, the potholders, a pile of German books. At all times loud comments about cleaning the garage, or rather "cleaning" "the" "garage", were made.
A couple of hours into the party, the assembled guests were herded into the garage to behold a veritable shrine to Heath Robinson: a Contraption constructed of bits of wood, string and random household objects, culminating in the bunny (a tragic figure blindfolded with black tape) sitting beneath a suspended anvil. I was handed a pair of scissors and instructed to ceremonially cut the ribbon. Speechless, I did so.
The resulting events are a bit of a traumatised blur, but as far as I remember, a swinging owl-shaped potholder knocked over the first in a line of domino-style books, which fell in sequence to hit a lever which pulled out a plug in a tube, releasing a whole line of marbles which rolled down a series of inclines to fill up the suspended watering can, which tipped, releasing a lever which lowered a lit blowtorch to melt a block of ice on one end of a balance, which tipped, bringing a candle down to burn through a piece of string, releasing an anvil, which fell on the bunny, crushing it utterly to smithereens.
The scary thing is that none of the engineers had actually seen the comment in which I specified a bunny-destruction mechanism including several of the above. Also, the Evil Landlord wants to make another one next weekend. Fear.
I feel that this was a fitting end to the bunny, whose motivational force has been suitably recognised with a grand gesture, and moreover one which didn't actually give me a chance to drop an anvil on my foot. I am free! Also, have scored lovely birthday loot in addition to piano-funds, including booze, clothes and piles of books I propose to spend the rest of the weekend reading.
Being slightly emotionally traumatised by the proceedings, I took only completely crap photographs of the contraption, and stv took a video I have no idea how to edit or embed. However, I feel the birthday present from jo&stv should be immortalised:
The back reads "Stockholm 2007".
wolverine_nun successfully rallied the hordes into a Save the Piano Fund (the contemplation of which is making me extremely happy, so gratitude all round), but the bunny has finally, fittingly, bought it at the hands of an Infernal Device of considerable cunning and complexity, not to mention conspiracy.Yesterday was a bit surreal. I spent it drifting around the house making desultory gestures of party-preparation, but at around lunchtime the Evil Landlord and the dreaded jo arrived, and proceeded to closet themselves in the garage with loud protestations about "cleaning" it, an occult process I was not permitted to witness. Thereafter a succession of gin and tonics moved steadily into the garage, and a succession of bangs, thuds, giggles, shrieks, yells and wild gales of laughter emerged from it. At some stage in the proceedings stv arrived and was sucked into the maelstrom. At intervals some member of the triumvirate would emerge, quarter the house restlessly, and depart with an unlikely selection of objects - the watering can, the potholders, a pile of German books. At all times loud comments about cleaning the garage, or rather "cleaning" "the" "garage", were made.
A couple of hours into the party, the assembled guests were herded into the garage to behold a veritable shrine to Heath Robinson: a Contraption constructed of bits of wood, string and random household objects, culminating in the bunny (a tragic figure blindfolded with black tape) sitting beneath a suspended anvil. I was handed a pair of scissors and instructed to ceremonially cut the ribbon. Speechless, I did so.
The resulting events are a bit of a traumatised blur, but as far as I remember, a swinging owl-shaped potholder knocked over the first in a line of domino-style books, which fell in sequence to hit a lever which pulled out a plug in a tube, releasing a whole line of marbles which rolled down a series of inclines to fill up the suspended watering can, which tipped, releasing a lever which lowered a lit blowtorch to melt a block of ice on one end of a balance, which tipped, bringing a candle down to burn through a piece of string, releasing an anvil, which fell on the bunny, crushing it utterly to smithereens.
The scary thing is that none of the engineers had actually seen the comment in which I specified a bunny-destruction mechanism including several of the above. Also, the Evil Landlord wants to make another one next weekend. Fear.
I feel that this was a fitting end to the bunny, whose motivational force has been suitably recognised with a grand gesture, and moreover one which didn't actually give me a chance to drop an anvil on my foot. I am free! Also, have scored lovely birthday loot in addition to piano-funds, including booze, clothes and piles of books I propose to spend the rest of the weekend reading.
Being slightly emotionally traumatised by the proceedings, I took only completely crap photographs of the contraption, and stv took a video I have no idea how to edit or embed. However, I feel the birthday present from jo&stv should be immortalised:
The back reads "Stockholm 2007".
