My Butler’s Toupee or Living in Hotsy Totsy Land

Welcome!  Isn’t this a fine June morning Dear Readers?  I’m leaving for the mall in just a few minutes to meet a very good friend where we will shop for items that we will eventually donate to the thrift store and later inadvertently buy back again.  I’m sorry to have to say I didn’t have time to cook up a new, fresh essay for you, but I have taken a leftover essay and stuck it in the oven at 350 degrees. 

This, Dear Reader, is the view from my Morning Room.

Ok, I don’t really have a Morning Room, as such, it’s actually just a fancy way of saying a chair by the window in the bedroom.

But I like to refer to it as my Morning Room whenever I am giving instructions to my Butler.

Ok, I don’t really have a Butler, as such, it’s just a fancy way of referring to my little dog who looks like a really bad toupee that a Butler might wear.

Picture of a yorkshire terrier
My Butler’s Toupee

So this morning, Dear Reader, whist sitting in my Morning Room admiring the view, I soon found myself ringing for the Butler with the Butler Bell.  Which is to say,  I called at the very tip-top of my very best lung,

“Here Chancey!  Here Chancy!”

. . . because what I refer to as my Butler’s Bell isn’t really a Butler’s Bell, as such, but just a fancy way of saying ‘calling the dog’.

To which my Butler responded by running over and jumping onto my lap —  or at least his toupee did.

Twas shortly after that,  I instructed my Lady-in-Waiting to bring my breakfast to the Morning Room for my Butler and I — that we might dine whilst partaking of the View of the Estate from the Window of the Morning Room,

Ok, it isn’t really an Estate, as such, it’s just a fancy way of saying ‘tree’.  But a pretty one it is.  I would even go so far as to say that my Butler’s Toupee and I think it very grand indeed!

But alas, all good things must come to an end.

It seems my Lady-in-Waiting refused to serve us our breakfast due to the fact that she isn’t really a Lady-in-Waiting, as such, but just a fancy way in which I sometimes refer to myself.

And I never make breakfast.

Until next time . . . I love you

My Butler’s Toupee or Dreaming of Hotsy Totsy Land

The view from my Morning Room.

This, Dear Reader,  is the view from my Morning Room.

Ok, I don’t really have a Morning Room, as such, it’s actually just a fancy way of saying a chair by the window in the bedroom.

But I like to refer to it as my Morning Room whenever I am giving instructions to my Butler.

Ok, I don’t really have a Butler, as such, it’s just a fancy way of referring to my little dog who looks like a really bad toupee that a Butler might wear.

Picture of a yorkshire terrier
My Butler's Toupee

So this morning, Dear Reader, whist sitting in my Morning Room admiring the view, I soon found myself ringing for the Butler with the Butler Bell.  Which is to say,  I called at the very tip-top of my very best lung,

“Here Chancey!  Here Chancy!”

. . . because what I refer to as my Butler’s Bell isn’t really a Butler’s Bell, as such, but just a fancy way of saying ‘calling the dog’.

To which my Butler responded by running over and jumping onto my lap —  or at least his toupee did.

Twas shortly after that,  I instructed my Lady-in-Waiting to bring my breakfast to the Morning Room for my Butler and I — that we might dine whilst partaking of the View of the Estate from the Window of the Morning Room,

Ok, it isn’t really an Estate, as such, it’s just a fancy way of saying ‘tree’.  But a pretty one it is.  I would even go so far as to say that my Butler’s Toupee and I think it very grand indeed!

But alas, all good things must come to an end.

It seems my Lady-in-Waiting refused to serve us our breakfast due to the fact that she isn’t really a Lady-in-Waiting, as such, but just a fancy way in which I sometimes refer to myself.

And I never make breakfast.

 

Until next time . . . I love you