Thursday, July 06, 2006

An evening in

Time, past time, to reacquaint ourselves with the Parlour.

Gentlemen callers. A rubber or two of whist, charades, perhaps, and most certainly a passionate tête-à-tête in the Conservatory.

Sinful sounds on the phonograph, a surfeit of artless delicacies [in lieu of artful swill] and the back garden flush with mignonette, nicotiana, heliotrope and one very special clematis.

Not difficult to conjure at all.

Would we fancy silly board games on the floor? Or card tricks in the corner with an earnest cad?

Stacks of books everywhere and nary a piece of electronica to be found.

So, do we have any suggestions as to games, music, books, delectables of any and all sort?

28 comments:

B said...

Lovely Irl...
A number of comments later, a few oh my! (the rest of the list you so graciously provided,) yet no eye candy? Still thinking of silly board games one can play on the floor, a number of them come to mind. One in particular.

V said...

A small, leather-bound copy of "The Erotic Traveler" by Sir Richard Burton? One easily slipped into the pocket of one's waistcoat and brought out for viewing behind potted plants ( a private and temporary Eden, pehaps?)

Or perhaps all Edens are temporary...

J3 said...

There was a famous Celtic (of the Breton variety) game called 7-14-21 which required 3 players and an observer (needed to tell the 3 players who had won the next day). But it definitely would not be suitable in this lovely parlour.

Sorry, I can't think of anything else :^)

B said...

Ouija, not twister.

Anonymous said...

let's play blind man's bluff

Anonymous said...

fictionary

Anonymous said...

Spin the bottle? :)

irlandesa said...

j3: Oh, no, absolutely. There comes a rather defining moment in an evening [generally around 5 AM, I find] where a game like that would be eminently suitable. For those left standing and not otherwise engaged.

v: Perhaps a wise and determined swain, confident of extending eden's bounds most infinitely, might have delivered, the morning of the event, the entire collection of "The Bibelots", published by Gay & Bird in 1899. I have but one, sigh, Herrick's Women, Love & Flowers [of course].

And, speaking as a girl, I do find Herrick and such much more compelling than Burton as hopeful prelude to amatory encounters.

V said...

And I have but one copy of E.T. ; a tiny, leather-bound one, but I'll be damned if I can put my hands on it at the moment... I wonder if I left it in a waistcoat pocket...hmmm...

Indeed, Burton is a bit - shall we say - direct for most members of the fairer sex. Soft, white underbelly of the world and all that... one which begs to be scratched.

Ahem, time to return to more polite company, what?

V said...

Might I suggest music to add to the atmosphere of the Parlour?

http://turtleservices.com/jukebox.htm

http://www.dismuke.org/Acoustic/index.html

Spark said...

re parlour games. sod the social graces. i would attempt to get the most interesting woman [read, presence, intelligence, kindness and good humour] outside for the following ice breaking activity:

there is only one good use for a diet coke, and this is it.. take a 1.5/2 litre bottle of diet coke and place inside it, unwrapped, a whole packet of mentoes.

the resulting 15ft fountain of diet coke will be sure to amuse..

Xx

irlandesa said...

Ooh, I have seen that done, spark, at least on the telly. It's quite the rage, apparently, on the wrong side of the pond.

And spectacular.

Then again, I also adore fireflies.

V said...

Sounds a bit messy for the genteel Parlour, and certainly not "of the period". But here is a fun video of the process:

http://www.stevespanglerscience.com/experiment/00000109

Sorry, I don't have a cue as to how to make this link "hot".

V said...

That would be "clue", of course, not "cue". The cues are in the billard room, just next to the Parlour.

Spark said...

well i figured you might have come across it already..

and yea, aren't fireflies great - & i can't even remember the last time i saw some, must be years back now - probably in the US way back when

but here in London unfortunately no such exotic creatures, but the weather is balmy, the party is rocking downstairs and i do have some great compas in my life, so i can't complain

we've a protest camp set up for the homeless, and victims of our appalling mental heath legislation, in westminster, and by lucky coincidence it is right next to the Dept for Justice and Constitutional Affairs. Heh heh.

back to topic: did you ever see phosphorence in the sea? now there's an extra curricular parlour game that's right up my street - skinny dipping ! is your parlour by the ocean irlandesa?

say yes!

V said...

It was the first time I had heard of it, Spark, and I will try it. I went on a search for it as soon as you mentioned it. Thank you.

And I still can't spell. It was billiard room. Evidently V has had far too much of Irlandesa's infamous Parlour Punch.

Enjoy the party.

irlandesa said...

Phosphorescence in the sea. Yes, spark, but not here [and, yes, the Parlour is currently within dismal sight of the wrong ocean], in a thoroughly magical place I used to frequent often, in Puerto Rico, in fact.

The Diet Coke and Mentoes spectacular was lovingly featured on a news show [Keith Olberman], including an interview with the artist in question. Such a delight.

As for skinny-dipping, sigh, just once, after much too much wine, with a very insistent gentleman [insistent because I insisted it was something I Did Not Do], in a fountain in one of those lovely old squares in Savannah. Never fear, it was about 4 in the morning, and no one, thank god, was about.

B said...

The ocean...being so close to my place of birth is and always will be close to my heart...building sand sculptures, or just writing in the sand...looking for shells, picking up star fish, turning him upside and wondering with amazement how those dozens of tiny tendril's (technically I think think they are there feet)would move them from one place to another, EVER so slowly and then reflecting on how very vulnerable they are to be so slow, in such a fast paced world.

You could draw line's in the sand with a driftwood stick, making a board for tic tac toe, checkers or even chess... using shell's as the pieces of the game or even star fish if the squares are big enough and they don't get bored and slowly crawl away (lol)

I have been swimming the ocean naked once...there were only swell's and the ocean rocking me...to and fro gently, making it quite the experience. At other time's, I have had it take my string-tied bathing suit top with heavy undertow, yank it right off and swallow it in it's belly... on a very crowded beach of summer's past, cupping them and running to my towel, alas not fast enough for other's not to notice. If it wasn't for the look on the face of a surfer passing by, I would have had NO clue it was gone.

I so miss driving to the beach from the old home, at one beautiful point before even seeing ocean, the heavy salt air would mingle with the smell of thick forested pine, making me yearn to get my barefeet in it's wet sand's.

B said...

'Soft, white underbelly of the world...one that wishes to be scratched.'

I remember we were living in northern California, when Burton's "E.T." came out...my god it caused a stir. The women in my family couldn't stop gushing over him and it. I never got to read it...but understood by the lascivious bantering and quoting from it then letting out great peels of laughter accompanied by soft moans. Ooooh, yeah.

V said...

I don't have a naked ocean story of my own, but a friend once told me one it might be apropos to relate. I do hope it is not too risqué for the Parlour,,,

Apparently there is a beach near Acapulco (I think I have the location in his story right) where the millions of broken shells move against each other and make a loud sound identical to that of a crowd applauding a performance. My friend was swimming alone and, responding to the swells and rhythms of Nature became aroused to the point he found it desirous to masturbate then and there, while floating in the water. Making love to the sea, as it were,,,

Just at the finish of his orgasm the shells made a loud and seemingly appreciative burst of applause.

"Oh, you liked that?" the man said to the Sea. "Well, how about this?" and proceeded to do it again.
And again came the appreciative applause.

Thoroughly drained by the second orgasm, he was tempted, so tempted, to simply allow himself to die and be taken by the sea forever and he was in real danger of losing his life right then and there. It took every effort he could muster to bring himself back to his right mind (if he was ever in it really) and get himself back to shore and safety.

B said...

The tiger stirs at the vaguest light of dawn...passing a cup of praised java (s) good morning V.

I myself, stretched and yawned rolled over in half sleep at 5 am, lazy sunday I thought... I will let the dark warm lull me again, which is usually when a dream takes me...alas, sun veering through shuttered window wouldn't hear of it postponing the possibilies.

What a lovely and titlating er, dangerously true story. One should never be in her waters alone. At least not too far out, alone. The experience I recanted was, before I was fully trained to understand you never go diving alone, luxuriating (oop's) always swimming in her waters with a buddy (excuse the pun.)

Which brings me to other lovely parlour games people play. I was having a house warming party once. Truely. It was never to repeat itself. Someone suggested cards. How lovely I thought. The guest list was an even small number of double digits. The vote democratic of course, was for strip poker. Having had only one other encounter with this game, disasterously I add, I requested that it not be poker. Agreeing it didn't have to be poker per se, we took another vote on which game it would be. Gin (or Gin Rummy, I am trying to recall) was the winner. I played it with a poker face as to my ability with this game. Eight hands later, everyone was down to their socks only. Except the hostess. She didn't even have to resort to the hair comb holding the tempest of her hair in place. Which was fine...as she had baked fresh loaves of bread during the day for guests and all was cozy and warm this snowy winter's eve. She asked if they wanted another hand. The vote was hands down for dressing rather quickly, opting for music and stirring conversation.

V said...

I see that by now we have all completely lost track of our waistcoats and crinolines.

And Irl said the Burton wouldn't work toward infinite Edens....

B said...

Like all of the Art's...
it is truely subjective. What is art to one, is something strange or even ugly to another (sculptures come my mind here.) What is stirring literature to some, does not sate an Other. That is truely the beauty of it all.

B said...

I must add...on sculpture's, not all are ugly, but some do tend put some people off, while other's may inspire. As to the beauty of the art's...whatever medium, which is vast and almost infinite, almost everyone is sated through the choice's available (s) glancing down at crinoline, not lost but which is still itchy as ever.

V said...

Ah, but I do feel a "shrewd and knavish" Puck...

B said...

Ah, with summer's heat upon us, the narcotic sleep it induces...with such mischievousness goings on enough to make one dizzy...seeking soft green amongst safe tall grass, finding it, reclines on Nature's bed and drift's sweetly into dream.

TripleJ said...

Spark's idea of the diet coke/mentoes brought back fond memories of Nantes in France where I and a few student friends once managed to tip 10 litres of concentrated detergent ('Teepol' I seem to recall was the brand) in the fountain of 'Place Royale' and which produced the most lovely froth one can imagine. It covered the fountain itself but also spread across the road which surrounds the fountain, and onto the footpath on the other side.

And I'm also pleased to report the police never apprehended the culprits. 'Vandals' they called us but all we did was give the square a damn good wash :^)

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