The final squeeze of a tart grape

You know those scenes, the sort that play out in conservatories or on a lawn in the summer. Chintz, floral prints will be present, comestibles of a suitable and dainty nature will be on offer, bourbon biscuits representing the extreme of epicurean stimulation. Conversation will focus on topics with no relevance beyond the boundaries of a village setting: the tombola, Mrs Munce’s apricot jam, the goings on in the rectory. Well that’s what we call, parochial, it’s a kind of hell, those cursed of such are fated to endure a particularly languid and cruel erosion of their soul. How do you arrive at this damnation? Well it’s a insidious trap, set to waylay the unsuspecting traveller, the only warning of its presence, is the familiarity of the retrodden ground you’re stepping over.

So I notice today that Freshly Pressed has expired, what, you may ask, is the relevance. Well have you ever had a friend or colleague, someone with a keen interest in a particular subject, say bird watching, stamp collecting or maybe fishing and that friend found conversation outside the topic of that interest, difficult to sustain or even commence? Did you stay friends for long? I’m willing to bet that you didn’t and so I can say that the passing of Freshly Pressed will go unmourned from this quarter. Alas change doesn’t necessarily mean change for the better. Call me a cynic if you like, but I just can’t shake the feeling that the inauguration of the new flag under which content from WordPress is selected for promotion, that is: Discover is going to mark the continuation of pretty much the same narrow preoccupations as the old Freshly Pressed, just under a new label–more tea vicar?

BTW, why has my em dash at the end of the last paragraph, come out as a hyphen when I review the post?

~ by deadspidereye on November 26, 2015.

2 Responses to “The final squeeze of a tart grape”

  1. You mock the epicurean dainties and the chintz, but it seems like an invitation to such an event would be a welcome break in your pea soup regimen, if nothing else.

    • Personally tea time fare, it’s always three in the afternoon in the village, is not really to my liking. Jaded palettes, tend to offer pastries and cake, a that are a little sweet for me and the taint of over applied ginger, lingers unpleasantly. The exception being, those rather delicate cucumber sandwiches, spread with a fittingly complementary cheese of course. No scented tea though, that’s a line in the sand I will not cross.

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