Go my ABBA and fireworks display fix last night at Longwood Gardens, the former home of Piere duPont which he then gave to the nation.
We didn't have the greatest view as we were underneath a beautiful sprawling Cypress tree due to arriving a little after 4 p.m. and finding many had already staked their claim--leaving rugs and other personal belongings on the benches.
The fountains--installed by duPont in the 20s were spectacular, lighting up in an array of rainbow colors in time to the frantic beat of Dancing Queen, Take A Chance on Me, etc. And then came the spectacular finale to Waterloo, the hit that brought ABBA to the world stage when they won the Eurovision contest.
Only downer of the evening was a run-in with a Russian couple at the cafe--it was packed and they made everyone wait while they argued with first the server and then the manager because they wanted to mix-and-match menu choices that weren't available to them at the price they wanted to pay. (It has to be said they also cut the line.)
Helpfully (or so I thought), I said, "I think you'd be best just picking from the choices allowed as the manager's pissed off at you and the line for food is getting very long."
The woman looked at me--vulpine face with ice-blue eyes and a slash serving as a mouth--and said "Shut Up."
At that, the server ignored them and moved on to me.
Moral of the tale: There are nice Russian tourists and then there are the others.
Showing posts with label Pierre DuPont. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pierre DuPont. Show all posts
Monday
Twisted Agendas
They say if you wait long enough something you need comes. Well, boy is that true in this case.
I've been dissatisfied with the titles of my new novel. Each title I came up with was interesting but just didn't enthuse.
And yesterday, I went with Larry and friends to Longwood Gardens--the estate outside Philly that Pierre DuPont saved in 1909 from logging interests when the Quaker family who'd possessed it for 200 years decided to sell it--and it came to me while watching the fireworks and colorful fountain display in the evening. It may or may not have been my mulling of the twisted plans of loggers to ruthlessly cut down the magnificent 200 year old Tulip, Oak, American beech and Ginko trees.
TWISTED AGENDAS is its final name. Because that's really what it's about--the agenda of Derry's overbearing father, the agendas of Piper's dysfunctional parents, the agenda of old Mrs. Hartley against Julia and Derry, the agenda of the MI5 detectives.
So now I can rest. The title's found. And any prospective agent and publisher will hopefully love it.
I've been dissatisfied with the titles of my new novel. Each title I came up with was interesting but just didn't enthuse.
And yesterday, I went with Larry and friends to Longwood Gardens--the estate outside Philly that Pierre DuPont saved in 1909 from logging interests when the Quaker family who'd possessed it for 200 years decided to sell it--and it came to me while watching the fireworks and colorful fountain display in the evening. It may or may not have been my mulling of the twisted plans of loggers to ruthlessly cut down the magnificent 200 year old Tulip, Oak, American beech and Ginko trees.
TWISTED AGENDAS is its final name. Because that's really what it's about--the agenda of Derry's overbearing father, the agendas of Piper's dysfunctional parents, the agenda of old Mrs. Hartley against Julia and Derry, the agenda of the MI5 detectives.
So now I can rest. The title's found. And any prospective agent and publisher will hopefully love it.
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