Tuesday, March 31, 2009


I had wondered to what purpose would be put the gothic building in Cape Wrath. The building stands next to the pub, on the water, and has a darkly forbidding look.

All was revealed when I received a note saying the building would house Amaranthus, a Victorian jewelry store, owned by Miss Elbereth Nightfire. Below, I look at some of the pieces for sale.

An amaranthus is a type of flower - as the infallible Wikipedia says, named from the Greek, the "one that does not wither, or the never-fading (flower)."

Although I missed the opening celebration, I saw that the shop still had out cake and assorted goodies. I thought cutting the cake would be rude, so I contented myself with a small piece of chocolate.

Of course, leaving without buying a piece of jewelry would also have been rude.

Politeness simply required that I buy something. Or at least that's what I plan to tell my accountant.


Andy said...

I found myself in a similar predicament when I ventured down to explore the concentration of green dots that had suddenly sprung up on the map.

Happily, I was able to find a pocket watch and cufflinks with a most appealing clock motif, and it was through no sense of false politeness, but instead a genuine desire for teh sparkly, that led to my purchase.

I shall tell *my* accountant that I was boosting the local economy, to the general betterment of all.

I remain yours, etc
Random Merryman

Rhianon Jameson said...

You are an inspiration, Mr. Merryman - a little private equity stimulus. *grins*

Upon re-reading my post, I realize my little joke could be taken seriously. To clarify: I bought the earrings because they were quite nice, rather than any feeling of obligation.

I do find it a little awkward, however, wandering into a small shop, striking up a conversation with the owner, and then wandering out without buying anything because there is nothing in the store I value more than the cash I'm holding.

Last year, my typist was in Arizona when one of her party insisted on stopping at a vineyard. Everyone chatted with the owners, who were all very nice people. For a modest fee, one could sample up to five varieties of wine. My typist had her doubts, but went ahead with it. Those were five of the ghastliest wines she has ever tasted, and she was grateful the sample glass was not larger. Buying a bottle was out of the question, unless she could give it to someone she really disliked.