Fade To Grey

November 4, 2020 11:00am Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 15 Comments

Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday!

It’s the last day before yet another national lockdown and tomorrow all avenues of pleasure will be closed. People are worried about how this might affect everyone in terms of work, money and business; many debate at length of the mental effect this will have on those being curtailed and imprisoned in their homes. Well, it just so happens I can answer that one. 

It appears I have gone stark raving mad. 

At some point during the first lockdown I decided that since I couldn’t travel I’d get all the things sorted in my house that desperately needed attention. 

I got the roof repaired so it would stop raining in my bedroom. 

I’m currently having the kitchen re-done.

And the bathroom.

I had beautiful new wardrobes fitted to hold all the party dresses that I can no longer wear. They are a shrine to good-times past. 

Pandemic Pile-Up

I don’t know what it is with me and stress but when I have a dose of it, I want to add more.  

“Come on, break you bitch!”

I believe that it is a result of some deep psychological imbalance. Which, is very surprising for someone as balanced as me…

Perhaps, the thought of endless chaos, workmen, plaster dust, rubble and no eating, sleeping or bathing facilities is preferable to sitting with my own thoughts on how to deal with Covid gaol.

Besides, if I have to stay in prison I may as well make it look sodding pretty.

There’s Something Wrong With the Grey Matter

For some reason, everything I have chosen for my abode sits within the greyscale.  My new kitchen is called “Cashmere” which is basically a creamy grey. The new floors are ash; in the bathroom they are slate. When the wardrobe man came round for a billion hours I chose Shaker wardrobes in a beautiful tone called “Dove”.  AKA – grey.

I reside in shades of grey with no colour.

Not so good when you’re moving into winter in England. 

I even re-homed a second wolfit to add to the drama. His name is Halo and guess what colour he is…

Night-time Terrors

Since the transformation of my decor, I’ve started to have a fear about going to bed. Completely irrational and like a 5-year-old with a sense of lurking monsters.  This went on for quite a few weeks. I tried to drug myself with Benadryl or read until my eyes nearly bled but the feeling still lingered.

And then, one evening, I realised the cause. 

In the daytime, my new bedroom looks like an elegant boudoir straight out of the Homes and Gardens Magazine:  Floor to ceiling oyster closets; a pale grey/lavender hue to the walls and a dark grey carpet. All tones melting subtly into one another like a greyscale Rothko painting. 

The bed, inviting and pure with crisp white bedding. A neutral haven for the weary and heavy-headed. 

But at night, with the dimmed over the bed reading lights…

It looks like a hospital room. A dreary room where one lies in wait to die.

“Look at it,” I said to one of my friends. “I feel like I should have DNR put up on the back wall.”

And when I’m in the bed, reading to stop the inner voices of doom, my room resembles an aircraft cabin – lights down for night-time flying. 

Radiance for Recovery

Clearly, I recognised the need for vivid accents of brilliant colour to swing the scale back to happy days. I called in my trusted decorators and insisted on a kaleidoscopic transformation.

“Dolphin Blue in the kitchen, mint green in this room, timeless classic here, and for the love of God, some dusky pink depth in this hospital bedroom before I lose my spirit completely!”

Yesterday they painted my bedroom. I didn’t look at it until I went to bed and I nearly cried. This morning when I analysed it in the dawn sunlight, I came to this conclusion:  My bedroom now looks like someone has thrown up candy-floss all over my walls…



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Dear Jules: We Yanks will need your artistic eye, to dress up the darkness of impending socialism which is about to descend on our nation. Colorful unicorn barf on the encroaching walls would be an improvement. Perhaps you folks might be willing to take your colony back. I’d rather report to a genuine Queen than to a dank polygendered atheist authoritarian.

Good morning, Roger! From what I can garner on the BBC News it’s all looking a bit stalemate over there at the moment. Such division – a bit like over here.

I can definitely tell you that unicorn barf is not the way to go. I nearly had an episode in bed when I woke up to that this morning. Yikes!

I’m happy to come and plant my Standard in the ground and reclaim the colonies. However, it ain’t much fun over here at the moment either. I think it’s time the Queen stepped up and sorted it all out!

The best possible color to cheer you up might be called “unicorn barf”.

Art philosophy will save you as you search the color wheel to try and improve on “unicorn barf”.

Here at the White Wolf Mine (in the middle of nowhere), the rooms have massive windows that open onto the national forest, so I have substituted pines, cedars, columbines, etc. for unicorn barf. Was I successful in improving on that best of all color schemes? Maybe. Not having neighbors means that the foot of man is not in the scheme.

Has anyone told you that in addition to Lucifer and Halo, you should consider a WHITE WOLF?

I prefer unicorns to explode when on a shooting hunt rather than their rainbow goo spew all over my walls!

Well, let’s hope so, Larry. The decorator has changed it to a paler, more refined version so it’s all coming together.

I love the sound of the WWM and I think as a gesture of goodwill you should give it to me until I feel better about life. Plus the wolves would love it there. It’s the right thing to do.

White wolves are hard to come by but, should the opportunity arise, you know I would get one and call him LL 🙂

our mad times have gotten madder, mah dahlin

thank you for the color palette at the top there, i need at least one closed-eye hallucination a day to function

no change for me, i was born stark raving mad

oh i’m fixing my roof, too! the monastery roof is just a skeleton now with one tile. if it collapses no prayer will help us…

i knew that wolfit was a gamer!

at least it’s not a van Gogh painting. sleep with me in the bed and we’ll comfort each other. i had the same fears as you, but then i realized it was Grey Gardens. Grey Gardens was the ULTIMATE monastery!

look at the very center of that candy floss: ………Pac-Man…


The world is mad and so are all of us in it, my sweet!

He is an absolute gamer! HALO and an angel, of course.

Pac-Man Candyfloss! How sweet! *)

It’s true that White Wolves are difficult to find. They are said to have hunted unicorns to the brink of extinction.

Oh yes, I know this to be true. I think that white wolves are the smartest of them all – they are clever hunters and very difficult to pin down. 🙂

I like the sound of your monochrome home: things were much better back in the days of black & white.

And a new wolof too. Aww! He looks cute.

Yeah, good point, Masher. Things were a lot more simple then.

He’s very cute and quite calm which is a bonus!

Hmmm. Fade to Grey. Remember that smash hit pop genius?
And of course your party frocks are simply biding their time. In the meanwhile, Satan appears to be triumphing in the US. Pyrrhic.
Young Max, sorry, “Mex”, looks adorable!

I do remember that genius! Heh!
Young Max is a delight.


Hello Jules. Dare I say, ‘Happy New Year!’? Well, you know I wish you all the best, and I do. I hope you’re doing fine, thinking about blowtorching this world, calling THAT the great reset. Idiots… Anyway, you hang in there, you hear?

Luv ya, Jules.


More like happy new tier over here. Locked down and locked down again. I’ve spent nearly a year like a caged monkey. I’m hanging in there. I hope you are too, my friend. I will be back in blog world soon to try and write through it all. Bloody mental chaos, the whole lot of it. Luv ya then 🙂

I’m ready to cast the first stone.

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