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Wednesday, December 24

Joyeux Noel!!

Wishing everyone a smashing Christmas. (hic) Auntie dragged me off to cousin Violet's for Christmas dinner this year. To Stormhold...which was awfully snowy and chilly. Better than the boarding house, I suppose. Oh yes, I'm back there, to my great chagrin (hic) There incident...something to do with my flat burning down or something....something like that...

Here is a tintype Auntie took of cousin Violet and myself whilst we were waiting for the goose to cook:

(My cousin promptly mocked my hat. She is simply jealous because she is not nearly as smashing as I am)

Wednesday, November 26


(Written whilst my aunt was cooking Thanksgiving dinner..before she shooed me out of the kitchen with a wooden spoon. Now I am crouching in the garden as my cousin seems to have accidentally locked me out of the house)

Once you roamed so free
In a field, or wherever it is
that turkeys congregate.

Now you cook in the stove...

Auntie, stop poking me with that
Fine ,I shall get out of the kitchen

I look forward to your golden-brownish

Tuesday, November 18

A Place to Lay My Charming Minature Top Hat.

It's been an eventul few days. I am now settling into a flat that Auntie arranged for me to rent. It's smaller ...very small actually...and less....poetic than I would have liked, but it will do for the moment.

I'm just glad to be out of that godforsaken boarding house. I swear I had not a minute to myself there...difficult when one be constantly interrupted to come downstairs for meals or for tea...or to escort one's Aunt on her daily constitutional...or all sorts of dreary things.

Granted, it is not the plush setting that I imagined that Phineas Matova, man about town and poet at large, would be dwelling and entertaining in, but I have a table and chairs, a fireplace, and a goodly supply of *peers at a faded label on a large barrel in the corner* whiskey? Whiskey I believe it is. Bought it from a chap in an alley. And that is all I need.

Perhaps I shall take a stroll and make aquaintance of my new neighbors...or perhaps I shall stay in and write poems...Oh I believe I shall do that this evening, with no Aunt to ask me to rub her bunions or ask me to fetch her yarn from behind the sofa or bathe her ancient, dyspeptic cat.

Mr Boots apparently had some sort of condition.

Thursday, November 13

I was need of a new outfit, so I purchased this ensemble. I think the hat lends quite a dashing touch, no? My cousin seemed quite taken indeed by it, as she began to clutch her hankie to her face and laugh in an hysterical fashion. Poor thing, she seems to get these terrible fits when I am about...

Sunday, October 5

As a reward for good behavior (not frightening her other boarders for a week, not setting the boarding house alight, not mentioning the unicorn, not 'getting a snoot full' as she calls it...difficult when there are no pubs within walking distance..) Auntie accompanied me on a visit to Caledon, where we first visited cousin Violet for tea.

I believe she has mostly put that unfortunate incident of her home burning to the ground (the unicorn is still at not look at me like that) and seems to be settling well into her life in Stormhold. I did notice she removed all sharp/pointy objects from the vicinity...(difficult when one is trying to butter one's scone...a spoon simply does not do...besides I don't believe you can injure anyone with a butter knife...harrumph ) After our scones and tea, we bid adieu to my cousin and went off to continue our visit.

We walked through the new Oxbridge University, admiring the buildings and grounds. I managed a few tintypes of the visit:

Oh.... I have control of my camera. Indeed I do. What a handsome devil.

Ah, very Byron-esque here. Moody, sullen and poetic. I was going to write a poem on the spot, since I felt so poetic, but I neglected to bring either paper or pen and then Auntie told me to stop arseing about. Pfft.

Auntie and I strolling the grounds while she tells me yet again the sad, sad story of her first husband, Eustace Winterbottom and his demise at the hands of (or is it paws?) grizzly bears.

Auntie and I prepare to take our leave of Caledon, taken just before she rapped me with her cane for smoking. *grumbles*

Sunday, September 28

More Poetry by Phineas Matova

As I have been bedridden recently with the grippe, my subject matter has become limited to the contents of my bedchamber.


Spoon, laying against the empty bowl
which was full of soup.
But has now been consumed.
Gazing at my reflection
In the round part
Even all distorted
I am a handsome devil.


You lay intertwined on the floor
lifeless and eyeless
Well of course lifeless,
because you are socks.
And it would be very frightening
If you were alive.
And as everyone knows,
Socks can't see.


I believe this one to be my finest work yet, spare and economical...yet it conveys so very much about the human condition in just four lines... I call it:


Gently browning over the fire,
Crispy and golden, just the way I like it
Crumbling delicately in my mouth
Especially good with butter or jam.

*sneezes and coughs*

Actually I'd like some toast very much right now, but as the cook for the boarding house is off shirking her duties at home, I shall have to figure out the stove myself. Pah.

Sunday, August 24

A poem by Phineas Matova

Since there is little to do here at my aunt's boarding house..(all attempts at escape a failure, no pubs nearby, no vistors *coughs and glares* ) I have taken up writing poetry to pass away the long, long hours. My first subject being the young lady who frequently hovers about, Miss Saffron... something or other. something with letters and escapes me at the moment...

I'm taking a contemporary approach here...all that ryhming business may be suitable for maiden aunts sitting at lace-doily covered tables with ostrich quills, but not Phineas Matova, man about town and poet at large!!

"Saffie, old girl"

Little beigey lady
With your hair so beige
And your dress so beige
You are like a stalk of wheat
Waving in the sun

Your eyes are like two shiny buttons
Sitting neatly in your head
I am most glad they are there
Because it would be a tragedy
If they were not.

For hours you sit,
Squinting at your embroidery
and your knitting
And your books.
Thank you for the scarf, by the way.

No applause necessary. I shall not forget all of you when I am Poet Laureate.. *beams*

Tuesday, August 12


Mother of god, I am bored and ...*sob* sober...this state of affairs cannot continue..... the days crawl by and the nights...*yawns*

I finally managed to make a tintype of Miss Antwerp...or Aardark...for the life of me I cannot remember the woman's name. Perhaps it is Antelope? Here she is, skulking by a wall.

Surprisingly, she is wearing a colour other than beige, which she seems to favor.

Wednesday, July 16


I know that you all have been terribly concerned about the whereabouts of Phineas Matova, man about town. Please let me put your fears to rest, dear folk of Caledon.

I have been accused of arson. I was camped out in the Tanglewood forest, living on nuts and berries. I was attacked and nearly consumed by Vorpal bunnies. (who on earth is keeping Vorpal bunnies?? *shudders*) A tiny poked me with a sharp stick. Then another tiny poked me with a sharp stick. I fell out of trees. Several times. I was very itchy.

But now,, dear people of Caledon, I am safe in the custody of my Aunt Juniper, living in a room at her boarding house not too far away...really, just a short train ride outside of Caledon. Not even an hour, from what I recall...admittedly I wasn't in the best frame of mind when I took it, being a bit dazed. But thirty to forty minutes at the outside. And the scenery is very pleasant. I assume anyway.

My Aunt has not allowed me to leave the premises yet. Believe me, I have tried, but then a rather surly gentleman that she has as a border ...talks me into returning to my little room. I would never have figured that such a large and imposing figure would be interested in summoning spirits and table rapping, rather than the more violent pursuits that he seems to be ideally suited for, but that seems to be the case.

Oh yes, my Aunt primarly rents out rooms to others who are spiritualists or those who wish to be. It does grow rather tiresome at times, with the household full of knocking noises, or peculiar disembodied voices.

Occasionally I have been frightened out of my wits by one apparation in particular that suddenly appears in my room and hovers there until my Aunt comes in and sends it..her...*shudders* away. Apparently this is her spirit guide Flossie, who has taken a dislike to me and enjoys tormenting me.

Another form tends to hover around me, but I realized quickly that this was not a ghost, but another one of the boarders. A Miss Antwerp? I am uncertain, but she seems to favor the color beige. She is the only boarder who seems to want to visit me.

Did I mention the boarding house is only a thirty minute train ride outside of Caledon?

Saturday, July 12


Wha--what happened? I had a strange and terrible dream about being in a tree...and then being carted off by flying bunnies....and then I fell and fell and fell....and was back in the tree again. And now I'm itchy. And seem to have misplaced my trousers again.

*passes out*

Monday, July 7

A package...

When last we left, Phineas Matova, man about town was in hiding as he was accused of burning his cousin Violet's house to the ground....even though the unicorn was responsible...
I realize that unicorns are generally not known as arsonists, but I swear, by the coarse hair on my Auntie Juniper's head that this one is!

Dirty, disheveled and rather peckish...I had taken to searching for from scraps from a rubbish bin, hiding out in the Tanglewood forest, wearing an outfit rather cunningly fashioned out of twigs and leaves as I seem to have misplaced my trousers..thankfully the nights have been warm and no one seemed to have discovered my hideout.

Or so I thought..

I had spent a fitful night tossing and turning...laugh if you may, but I am quite used to sleeping alfresco as I frequently forgot where the spare key was when I would return to my cousin's house from one of my many nights of carousing.

Wben I awoke, I noticed a nearby bundle with a note attached.

Dear hapless vagabond,

I have noticed you out here for several days...I know you must be growing cold and hungry, so please accept my meager gift of a blanket and food..


Not an employee of the Caledon Sanitorium.

Surely an employee of the sanitorium ....I know they have ways of luring you into a false sense of security and then they pounce! Pah!

Friday, July 4

Exile ...

Still in seems for ...days now.... in the forest..I've made a lovely shelter of twigs and doesn't fall on me too much....on occasion a tiny will throw pebbles at me for sport. How far, Phineas Matova, man about town has fallen....

Since my clothes have long since become tattered. I also fashioned a loincloth out of some of the larger leaves and usually stays on as well, although I believe I rather frightened some young women, out for a stroll, who responding by dissolving into hysterics.

Perhaps it is time for me to turn myself in....I cannot stay out here much longer....the pubs generally do not allow gentlemen in grass skirts, charming as I am...there was an offer of a bed at the Sanitorium....

Monday, June 30

The fugitive..

I apologize if my last post seemed a bit was due to a combination of shock and smoke inhalation....

It is day three of my forced...forced exile from Regency. *sobs* Why will no one believe that I did not set fire to the house? It was the unicorn, I tell you!! Did no one see that maniacal glint in Eleanor's the unicorn's eye??

I sleep during the day and forage for crumbs of food and a stiff shot of whiskey in the evenings. I bathe in forest streams...*is startled by a tiny and hides behind a tree*

What was I saying? ...

Saturday, June 28

j'accuse la licorne...

Again I find myself accused of my own family... (hic) Violet is claiming that I set fire to her house in Regency.....Admittedly she's not the first family member to do so. I'm currently hiding out behind an unamed pub in an undisclosed location in an unknown sim. It's got trees and houses and such. (hic)

*tosses empty bottle away* I was previously turned out on my ear after a wing at my Aunt's house burned to the ground, but that was ..oh that was my sister's fault. One of em anyway. From day to day it seems I have anywhere from one to two to seventeen sisters....(hic) They keep moving around...(hic) Not unlike that tree...(hic) Oooo...swirlies...

*passes out*

*Coughs and sputters*

Wha-where was I? Ohhh C-chemical experiments and such. Not a suitable occupation for a young lady, I keep saying, but my opinions seem to be falling on deeeaaf earsssss. (hic) I diggresss... I....Phhineasssss Matov-Ma-*mumbles* didddn'tt burrrn my cousssinnnssss houseeees down....yer a niiccee ladeeee....nooooo...doon'ntt runnnn awaayyy.... Mmmmyyyy unnnnicorn es the (hic) pyromaniac, not meeeeee.

*takes another drink and passes out again, snoring loudly*

Sunday, May 11

The Pub Crawl of The Century!!!

Join me, Phineas Matova, Man About Town, as I take you on a tour of my favorite watering holes, pubs, beer gardens, taverns, distilleries and private homes with well stocked bars.

I'm joking about the private homes. Tee hee. Or am I?

Details to follow as soon as I can remember them. (hic)

Mon retour triomphant

Safely returned from my Italian sojurn with Aunty Juniper, I serenade Miss Paris.

She was just about ready to swoon, due to my admittedly delightful singing and piano playing, when Aunty came to hunt me down for supper, at which time, Miss Paris muttered something about her house being on fire. 'Till next time, Dame Lapin. Le sigh...

Wednesday, April 30

When last we left, Phineas Matova, Man About Town had found himself the unwitting escort of his dowager Aunt Juniper on a long and dreary trip through the Mediterranean. Of course, I was able to spend time at the Grecian seaside and enjoy the fruits of several Italian vineyards, but it was still all rather...dismal.

I spent most of my evenings, not down at the local drinking establishments, as I would have wished, but in the audience, dozing off during my Aunt's inumberable seances and table tippings. (My Aunt is a spiritualist medium)

I must say this trip has left me rather well rested, if anything. If I was not being put to sleep by knocks from the beyond, I was falling into my soup during long, tedious suppers with her and her gaggle of hens from the local spiritualist groups. If I never have to hear of spirits and ectoplasm again, it shall be too soon

Saturday, April 19


To whomever out there who may be reading this...please help...I have been kidnapped by my Aunt Juniper and forced to escort on her on her travels...*sniff*

Let me backtrack slightly, you may recall that my aunt had arrived for a visit lo these many moons ago...I made a feeble attempt at escape...whilst Violet was greeting the old battleaxe and had requested I sally forth to fetch a cab, I made a dash for freedom.

I spent an afternoon and evening hiding in one of the local pubs, then a remaining night hiding in a shrubbery, until I was rousted by a very angry gentleman and his even more angry wife. Well, I certainly know when I'm not welcome. The sun was gently creeping into the sky, the cocks were crowing...and I was growing peckish and by the scent of things....badly needed a scrub.

I sighed and looked around me. The nearest hotel was miles away and I was growing rather low on funds. My cousin's home was only a few minutes walk away and perhaps no one would be awake at this ungodly hour. I tiptoed in as quietly as I one was about. Exhaling softly, I began to set about making tea...when I began to feel that I was not alone. As if two beady eyes were boring into my very soul.

I swallowed. "Hello?"

"Harumph. Running off and leaving an old woman at the train station. Ass."

I fear I would be remiss in not saying that I broke out in an icy sweat. As she circled me like a wolf circling something it wanted to eat for dinner...she fixed me with her eagle like stare...and wrinkled her nose.

"You smell like a distillery..pfft..." I shivered as she placed a shriveled, bony claw on my arm.

"What? no kisses for your auntie??!" she cackled huskily...sending even more shivers down my spine and making me feel quite faint. I staggered over to a nearby chair and sat weakly in it. Aunt Juniper shuffled over to the stove and began banging about..." need lots of strong look like you've been dragged behind a carriage..." this seemed to cause her some sort of fit that I deduced was laughter.

To be continued...

Tuesday, March 4

I blinked furiously as the sun seemed to be searing into my retinas and hurriedly shuffled off after Violet as she began heading towards the train station, feeling as if I were marching off to meet, well perhaps not the firing squad but perhaps to an appointment with a large burly man wielding a cat o'nine tails. Although it is not my cup of tea, there would be some folk who would pay for that sort of appointment, as I, Phineas Matova, Man About Town, have discovered in my wanderings....I digress.

A chill wind seemed to blow from the northeast as I staggered after my cousin, clutching my coat around me and shivering. Thinking that I could perhaps stall our progress to the train station, I racked my brain for a quick diversion that would seem believable. The only thing that I could come up with on the spot was feigning a fainting spell.

"V-Violet..I don't feel so well" I took a few halting steps backwards ( I am a trained mime) and clutching at my forehead, fell to my knees (being careful also to not muss my trousers or hair)
and let out a heartwrenching (I thought at least) moan.

My cousin turned and looked at me, with the sort of look one would reserve for say an unpleasant bug, rather than a cousin in grave distress. She sighed a bit and said

"Phineas, quit arsing about. You're making us late for Auntie Junipers train and believe me, I do not want to hear her complain for the next fortnight about how we abandoned an old woman"

"Alright, fine. But I might have been fainting!"

"Come along Phineas!"

I stood up, carefully brushing my trousers off and trudged off after her.

to be continued

Sunday, March 2

A very trying morning...

So, this morning as I was getting my beauty rest, I was awakened, rather roughly I might say, by my cousin Violet. I blinked and shivered as the wet rivulets of Arctic water trickled off my nose like a tiny waterfall and sputtered "Was that absolutely necessary?".

Violet rolled her eyes heavenward and uttered in a voice tinged with impending hysteria; "Yes, Phineas, it was. Please get dressed. We need to go fetch Auntie Juniper from the train station."

A chill ran down my spine that made the water pooling in my bed seem blessedly tropical by comparison. Violet gazed off into space fixedly for a moment, so fixedly in fact, that I had begun to believe that she was having a fit and whilst attempting to force open her jaws in an attempt to keep her from swallowing her tongue, she appeared to become increasingly agitated

"That's alright, Violet, just let it pass.." I said in my most soothing voice as she jerked away from me and said "What the devil?" Normally, I would have received a swift kick in the shins for my trouble, but she merely shook her head mournfully, uttering "just get dressed..her train is arriving this afternoon and she's expecting us to be waiting for her" and leaving me to attend to my toilette.

Having dressed and shaved and feeling somewhat more human and less like some nocturnal creature that makes it's home in the woods, I made my way groggily down to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of tea. I pondered the arrival of Aunt Juniper and what that would mean to my current existence.

Would I still be the same Phineas Matova, man about town? Would there be the long nights of carousing or would I be forced to stay home in the evenings, rubbing aunt bunions, threading needles and listening to stories about her rheumatic cat? I shuddered involuntarily. Granted, she was not Aunt Maria, the most feared of all the aunts, but still, it was not good news.


to be continued..

Sunday, February 24

A confession....

I, Phineas Matova, Man about Town, have an rather unpleasant confession to make. No, not that incident. Nor that incident. I told you, the thing with the dirigibles was the unicorn's fault.

*sighs heavily* Now, I've lost my train of thought...

*several minutes pass*

What? Oh yes, I had a rather earth shattering confession to make. Something terrible is going to happen and I fear I had rather a hand in it, you see. Of course, my intentions were was I to know that they were going to explode in my face rather horridly?

It all began with that first letter, several months ago...after being rather unceremoniously dumped by our guardian, Aunt Maria...on the doorstep of my cousin Violet after that other, really that was my younger siblings fault..these terrible letters began to arrive from another aunt.

Oh yes, we have several. About seven, possibly eight, if you count that one living in a country that I cannot remember at this time. I do believe it is hot and dusty, which narrows the field down a bit. This was not that aunt. This was my maiden aunt Juniper, not the battle-axe that Maria is, but certainly not my fun-loving, gin soaked aunt Elspeth. (who am I told I rather resemble. *beams*)

These were horrid letters, addressed to my cousin, advising her that she had heard reports of my "scandalous behavior" as she described it and casting all sorts of aspersions on my character and making implications that my cousin was not doing her best to 'control me".

Firstly, I am Phineas Matova, Man about Town. While I do have a healthy enjoyment of life's pleasures, I do not believe that I am "a menace to society" And I am fifteen months older than my cousin, and therefore should be her guardian, not the other way around. Of course she merely laughs at me when I try to bring this up. I try to point out her sleepwalking and the many times she has taken a spill into the water, but this only seems to make her laugh harder. Pfft.

*swigs directly from absinthe bottle instead of pouring it into a glass*

Wednesday, February 13

*sighs heavily*

Valentines day (hic) is upon us and I have yet to find a wealthy young lady with castle to court...*takes drink and falls over backwards*

Several minutes later...

So it'll just be me and the unicorn....(hic) I love me unicorn....*passes out*

Tuesday, February 5


It-it wasn't me! (hic) *points at unicorn who is busy destroying a nearby rose bush*

I had no idea dirigibles could be so fiery...I mean ...erm...the unicorn didn't ....*runs away*

Friday, February 1

Random musings

Nothing like enjoying a fine cigar with a few bottles of Merlot whilst sitting amongst parked dirigibles...