John: I’m so glad we weren’t any where near Puerto Penasco last December, when the Mexican and US police took down the Drug Cartel. (See here for details.)
The brown building is where the assault took place. We stayed about a mile and half to the west.
Shelley: It is indeed fortuitous that we did not have the displeasure of witnessing the carnage. Clearly the two hour siege would have deeply affected our felicity.
John: What the Hell?
Shelley: Sir, your language is offensive. Therefore, it would be terribly remiss of me not to express concern, alas, dismay, if you persist speaking in such a manner in front of a lady.
John: Why are you talking like that?
Shelley: Whatever are you speaking of, my dearest?
John: Like you’ve been sent back to the turn of the 19th century.
Shelley: My good man, if you are referring to my manner of speech, I can well understand your confusion.
John: Oh Jesus! You started reading Pride and Prejudice.
Shelley: As we both promised our youngest born, Andrew.
Andrew and Ash
However, it is in my humble opinion that you might find Jane Austin’s writing ponderous, her characters tiresome and the conclusion unsatisfactory. May I suggest that I, alone, undertake the arduous task of reading the novel, then vow to share the intricacies of the plot with you? Andrew will be none to the wiser when he queries you with regards to the motivation of Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth.
John: I’m not really sure what you just said, but I’m going to say, “Yes.”
Shelley: How wonderful of you to agree to my little plan. In the meantime, humour me as I attempt to immerse myself in the time period of the novel, in order to express myself in the language of Jane’s era, so I can be better suited to advise Andrew on how the novel transcends time, how it’s themes are applicable to modern day, to you and I, to…
John: And that means talking like the characters?
Shelley: Indeed. Now please continue by sharing with me how you would have responded to inadverently stumbling upon the detainment of those nefarious Mexican criminals.
John: First of all, I would have made sure you were safe, then I would have risked my life to film the two hour war zone so you could have an exclusive for your blog.
Reminders of the night.
Shelley: Nay! Your life is far too precious for such a small, albeit terribly important, part of my life. Although, in all honestly, the act of blogging has allowed me a forum to express my creativity resulting in heightened felicity.
John: Don’t get too excited. I would have ducked behind the door. The only part of me exposed would have been the hand holding the camera.
Shelley: Sir, if you would have been harmed, I would never have forgiven myself. I would have spent the rest of my days distraught, inconsolable, tormented, nay, even worse, addled, refusing to drape myself in anything but black, never looking at another man as I agonizingly drowned in my grief. The chances of attaining felicity would forever be nil.
John: What the F@#k is “felicity?”
Shelley: Tsk. Tsk. Must I continuously implore you to refrain from vulgarity. Sigh. Felicity means intense happiness. For your information, I am mimicking Jane’s propensity to overuse the term.
John: Of course you are. How many chapters have you read?
John: And you intend to talk like this until your finish reading the book?
Shelley: On my honour, I shall make every attempt to do so.
John: How many are left to read?
Shelley: Mr. Smith, I fear you have turned quite pale. Fear not, I can assure you that this is not an insurmountable amount of material for an avid reader such as myself. Shall we continue our trek while discussing the merits of once again touring the USA, specifically Organ Pipe National Monument?
Shelley and John