What would we do without gypsies, without the ever-present threat of gypsies? Gypsies ruin everything. Seemingly, they can’t even help to not fuck things up. Trying to live your life free from religious prosecution? Leave Europe, settle in the land of the free and fuck lo! there comes a gypsy to steal some of your shit. You are busy bringing in the sheaves whilst issuing orders to your over-worked children in Palatinate German and there comes a gypsy winning the heart of your eldest daughter with his dulcet tones and that heart-breaking music. What ammunition do the hard working, patriarchal House Amish have against the freedom and insouciance of a swarthy Romani male? Nothing. You can cook all day in a freakily hot kitchen or sit by a stream and dip flower petals in the cooling water. You can demurely obey your father or ride atop a horse whilst your lover undresses you with his fathomless brown eyes. You can sleep in a hard narrow bed with the bible as your only companion or you can brush your unruly hair beneath the moon.
Seriously.
What hath hell wrought that we choose lying down in the plank bed over the mild inconvenience of a passing summer shower?
Eating potatoes wrapped in dumplings, finishing off with a pie whose crust is teeming with a slurry of flour, sugar and butter is weighing down the gypsy loving daughters in all of us. Here at the Nancy Drew Research Institute (NDRI) we ardently believe that if these girls were gluten-free there would be a different world stretching before us. Our days would be given over to riding wild horses and strewing things about, instead of collating notes about quasi-poorly written books that are older than our mothers.
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