Same old same old. Bored with tripping up over empties? Better come to a new dive!
No, not into the gin lake.
Oh, soddit…
There is still a notice on the door saying
DRINKS ARE
NOT ALLOWED
ON THE
OUTSIDE
and all the mod cons are here.
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And one empty beer bottle, which came to rest over in the corner yonder. Just to provide that homely, welcoming touch. Maybe the kissing bough can be made to tone with the label.
Or then again, maybe not.
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Rather less alarming than Kevin the Teenage Badger. One very much wants to tickle that chin. I do realise that would be Unwise, but even so…
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This place needs Darrington and the underfoot men to carry chaises to Gwyneth
I hope to have mine reupholstered in peacock patterned satin
Until then I will test my trapeze out by the gin lake
And prevent my sqweakwins from being dredged up and given away bu yon limpet
I have a new bikini with squeakwinned dyed swansdown details
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This is a Storm Cellar, for taking refuge in as the Wintery Blasts ravage the countryside, watercourses start to fill up and Thames Water declare a hosepipe ban.
The usual crew of helpers (Darrington the butler, Ewbank, Honoré FitzMichael the pantler, The Page Three Pages, The Underfoot Men, the re-upholstering lady Gwyneth and her team of seamstresses, the Fancy Italian, Luigi to make us tea, Antonio the coffee-maker and Fritz the chocolatier) are all ready to do whatever is needed to make everyone comfortable.
We have lots of food stored in cupboards round the walls and in the kitchen against emergencies, and even more drink. We have a log fire blazing in a huge hearth which has a spit for cooking (though we also have an Aga and an ordinary stove) and beside it there are hanging toasting forks suitable for marshmallows as well as bread, and a shovel for roasting chestnuts.
There is also the Other Cupboard, which is near Carinthia’s chaise.
There are bar games about the room, and a piano, and there is a dance floor. The glitter-ball turns, throwing the lights back against the walls.
Most importantly there are plenty of comfortable chaises for relaxing on, all of them through some strange magic of the premises being close to the fire. These can be upholstered in any colour you like. There are also plenty of warm shawls to wrap about yourself, shoulders or feet as you prefer, kept in a kist near the fire.
Oh, the decor? This cellar is painted in flame colours.
I don’t know what Carinthia might do about a kissing-bough, given the colours, but we haven’t actually had one of those for a while. A tradition worth reviving?
Just in case of Mad Irish Tarts there is a trapeze… Outside.
And for the Dunnock there is a fully-feathered On Sweet.
“Never say no to a Medicinal” is inscribed above the fireplace, and illuminated by a dozen tiny LED spotlights so that you can’t miss it.
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Amber, Onyx, Citrine, Garnets, Rubies, Rose Quartz & Jet, Fishy.
They should all glow nicely.
I have an Candle lit, so would suggest lots of Candle/Tealight holders, well, 4 at least… 
I have one wiv my name pierced into the pottery so that I light up!
A gift from an certain Fish of my acquaintance. 
Carinthia. xx
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Wow! Sounds divine dahling.
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That’s a rather beautiful set.
Today started well, for once. I have been going this year to the MSK folk about what has been decided is not sciatica, and doing the exercises they gave me, and this morning I was rung by Nice Clare to tell me that she was signing me off their books and referring me to the Back Pain Relief team at the local hospital.
How long they will take to get round to seeing me I have no idea, but it is progress, of a sort. It might be because last time I saw her she asked me what I was hoping to achieve, and I said wistfully that it would be nice to stop hurting all the time before I die… Which was the simple truth, because I don’t really hope to achieve anything, but seemed to upset her. So she’s doing something about it, and good for her!
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I can report that the. main relief injections work if you do what they say
So there is hope dear Fish
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Why bother? Sure won’t the turds simply clog up any hosepipe ……… 
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Why? [misanthropic, ant-Terpsichorean mutterity]
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So we can use our pea-shooters on any one we see on it. Gotta practise somewhere.
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Thank you, dear Fish. I can stop worrying. [whittlity pea-shooter]
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But where am I going to dance without peas being shot at me?
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Anna one two three four five six…
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Bugger. Thought it looked funny and checked Turpsy Korean.
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Il faut souffrir, Dere. But wiv yer new trimmings, you’ll make a beeyoutiful Dying Swan.
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Am deploying the PigPowder & HWB combo, as it seems to suit me.
The Fork Andles are lit, as is the Extry Extry.
Quattro is fired-up
Carinthia.xx
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