Investors’ Day means Unattended Vol-au-Vents.
Investors’ Day when people don’t turn up means full bins and full sparrers.
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A stray canape
Can weigh a sparrer down crool.
Flappity. Ooof. Flump!
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You would be surprised just where we can put it all. It can be a long time from one meal to the next…
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Glasses of fruit juice. Fruit juice! The only fruit juices that woman drinks are juniper or potato. What have they done with the real Lilian?
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Well, you all know what an empty cake tin means. And it isn’t because Daft Old Bat suddenly got the munchies. I like busy energetic meetings when nobody’s paying attention to the food.
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We might be able to make out what David’s saying?
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Sometimes it means the vicar’s got in before I did.
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Neither scenario bears thinking about.
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None of this explains why the dopey old bat was sat in one of Brookfield Mansion’s, many rooms. with the light out, feeling pathetic for herself.
If David and Ruth have any sense… Well we know they don’t. But think of it as an abstract concept…
If they have any sense, they’ll start planning to book Jill into the nearest Pru Forrest Twilight Home for the Terminally Baffled. right away.
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In Brookfield it is traditional to sit in the unlit kitchen brooding if something has upset you. Remember Ruth when she had just come down from Prudhoe and was trying to think, that time?
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Did she ever get the knack, I wonder?
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I doubt it. There hasn’t been a lot of evidence of it if she did.
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I try never to think of Ruth… Note in a kindly way, at least.
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Today I am protesting against protesting against food waste. Pore starvin’ sparrers rely on surplus foie gras ‘n’ gold-plated cumin burgers when the wevver gets cold…
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Can yous slurp soup though ??
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Swims in it, probably. Have you ever watched a Sparrer in a birdbath?
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Hardly anyone’s bin spilling food these last few days. It’s terrible. Even Mr Generous With Breadcrumbs seems to be distracted, and now that Daft Old Bat has stopped cooking there’s barely a casserole to be sampled. I am forced back on me natural diet at harvest time: chips 'n dubious Bulgarian spirits.
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The conservatory got another bird visit yesterday. A female blackingbird this time, On the window ledge, flapping and trying to get out through the glass rather than use the open door it has come in by.
Eventually I grabbed her and showed her out. The ingrate didn’t say “thanks” or bring its friends & family to show them the place of its adventure. Nothing.
Later, as I yardarmed in the garden soaking up the rays, the local Sparrer 'awk lolloped into the garden. All other birds buggered off & hid and went silent until it continued its journey into the woods behind. It has an odd flight at take-off … it uses long, slow, sweeping flaps which seem very laboured, and trails it long legs and feet and is, at this stage very slow.
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Blackbirds has bin known to lay eggs in mid-flight. Not the smartest of birds.
Meanwhile, “let off wiv a caution”? Don’t they teach them anything in school any more? Accepting a caution means saying “yes I dunnit” in return for them promising not to bang you up. But that “yes I dunnit” is still an admission of guilt if the subject ever comes up again. Of course the filth don’t tell you that.
Of course it may have helped that the flapjack was not available for evidence. [erp]
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A caution goes in the record and is treated as a conviction if you want to do anything requiring a police records check, as well. Forget about working with children if you have accepted a caution.
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