Bronteblog: A Week In The Life...

WARNING: This blog contains in jokes and tantalising hints. For help, seek the Box Office where they will give you the key to these mysteries in the form of a ticket.

Dear Reader, it is I, Cathy of Dunwich.....yes, it's alright, I would be excited too.

How are you? I hope you are as stonkingly good as I tend to be! This week has been a pure corker, filled with wonder and adventure both prodigious and perilous LONG MAY IT CONTINUE. So allow me to spin my spinner, tell my tale and let me show you the Dunwich doings (and thereabouts) through my eyes......

The Monday Moors made musical mavericks of what fast became a mustered menagerie of marvellousnessness....ness.

Jane threw the same tantrum several times in perfect pitch. Mother and I tried to calm her with our serene piper-pipings but she remained just as "edgy" and father became so impassioned he threatened to throw in an unprescribed key change! Meanwhile, Sir Fred sauntered around accompanied by his latest splurge- a plug-in acoustic Bass Guitar, whilst our musical maestro Simon went quite doo-lally with his re-writes and threatened a reference to Scunthorpe!

Tuesday was fairly tip-top as well. I decided to aggravate Jane by curling my hair extra tight. It was so big that she had to sit in the seat behind me as Penny, (our trusty steed/ driver for the day) bundled myself, Jane, Sir Fred and Mr Rochester into the coach and took us to the coast where we discovered Catherine on her morning haunt (literally). We were then blinded Rochester style by the flames of the winter sun and blown to bits by the wuthering winds whilst being snapped and papped by Michael the photographer. I was of course in my element but Jane didn't like it much and Sir Fred and Mr Rochester were driven to duel!

I then went off to London to pretend to be a czech slovakian songwriter for larks and was MORTIFIED to discover the next morning that I had missed out on Pizza Tuesday!

Wednesday was a literary wilderness and many brain cells were used, recharged via the coffee machine and then used again! Sir Fred had been in another wilderness pretending to be a lion for bit, but was soon back to offer up his share of thinking power and together we wove our way through to clarity and then onwards to The Greyhound refuelling ground, where our minds were threatened to be troubled again by opinionated furniture and suspect looking liqueurs ....

"ONWARDS JEMIMA" cried Thursday, which brought great gusts of gusto as real ground was gained!....I say ground but what was really gained was our set! Heaps and heaps and heaps of it, some stationary and some not so haha! Jane scolds me for laughing, but reader tell me honestly would not you titter when out of the corner of your eye you see the director of our story be transitioned from one side of the stage to the other quite without having intended it- OH what frolics!

Speaking of frolics, Friday begins with F and so shall be called Frolicking Friday fank you very much. Having been splendid all week, I decided to carry on the tradition and I must say I think it rubbed off on everyone! We finished the week on a high with Act One in our pockets and Act Two well tailored so that we may walk into it's depths with our best foot forward come Monday!

Dear Reader, you have been reading (with most incredulous delight I am sure) a week in the life of I, Cathy Bronte. Forget not these words and may they be a source of comfort and invigoration until you have the privilege of meeting me in person from the 4th December 2013 (gosh I've kept well after all these years!)

Until then my minions, adieu.

Cathy Bronte