*Disclaimer: I abhor war and violence in all shapes and forms. Do not consider the references to battle tactics as condoning the use of violence. Despite being a smidgeon on the dramatic side, I am actually really peaceful. Yuhuh.
I had planned to have an elaborate series of battle photographs to details the positions we are holding and the ground that has been won… and lost. But I have been writing like a mad thing for mad writing stuff so you’ll have to put up with my indulgent description as maintenant, je suis un écrivain! (or is it une écrivaine? my ability to determine the use of masculine and feminine nouns is long-gone.)
Anyway, as I said on Monday – ’tis Jute week! And this is a little tale that may give you insight to how it is for one flatting with one’s sister. Well, if your sister is mental like mine anyway.
For the wedding in March, someone had very kindly donated a pile of faux fleurs which very conveniently were left behind in Wellington and thus unused in the ceremony. So since March, I had been hassling Jute about getting rid of them, to no avail…
War was declared on fateful Tuesday with a pre-emptive strike by my [previously] sweet little sister. I arrived home completely unsuspecting and threw my bag and jacket on my bed (very tidily, I assure you!) and as I raised my head I spotted something large, green and white on my bedside table. I screamed “Noooooooooooooooooooo!” and rushed over, horrified. Sitting proudly beside my bed was an elaborate arrangement of fake flowers in a vase; roses, faux gypsophila, and greenery – complete with a white ribbon tied around the base.
I immediately sent her a text that said: “Bitch!” which was met with laughter at her end.
Gaz informed me that she had spent the afternoon preparing the display. Evil woman. I feel like I have the weaker position as a full time worker but then again, she works at night so our passings are brief and allow for strategising and execution of stealth attacks.
My following move was ill thought out and hasty but continued the momentum of the war and attacked on several fronts: the bow was lovingly placed upon an existing vase besider her computer and a posy left upon her dressing table. If I may say, the colour coordination with her white furniture was fantastic!
I arrived home the next day to find the bow adorning my jewellery stand. Her offenses were starting to weaken. Or so I thought…
My last strike had been a rose wrapped around her door handle to greet her as she walked through the door and the bow providing some much needed pizazz to her phone. Now, hassle fake floral business though you may, but having those wire stems are damn handy when you are trying to attach flowers to places where flowers would not usually go. Brilliant.
Jute had very cleverly lulled me into a false sense of security with her previous attack as I was caught completely off guard two days ago.
*FRICK. Just accidentally published this post with some frenzied button pushing. Sorry!
It was late and I was tired. Jute and Gaz had gone to bed before me despite Jute working late… I finally finished the piece that I’d been working on and retired to my boudoir. As I flicked off the light I glanced at my lamp shade and was puzzled by its appearance. It was…. wait… were those roses? I verbalised my frustration at her cunning move and could hear her cackling in her room. Three roses had been meticulously wound around the chains holding my lamp shade to the roof. Now, my roof could not be considered low by any means.
I felt defeated and went to rest my head on my pillow to plot my next move when I noticed that there was a flower on my pillow. I went to brush it off and realised the little shite had SEWN IT ON THERE.
There was some considerable planning that went into her latest ‘piece of work’ and this requires a superior counter-attack. I am stepping up committment to the war.
I will not surrender!
[I can’t be arsed editing this. Maybe I am not such a writer after all!]