Pleased that it worked so well, Fishy.
I suppose that That Birdie’s Bruvver might have an spare stiletto for the pricking…
I use either an very sharp knife, or the kitchen Stanley knife for scoring into bite-sized pieces.
Not sure that I could wield summat for hundreds of tiny pricks these days.
Carinthia. xx
Very tiny grenade?
J and I have spent the afternoon in sorting out a lot of clothes for charity and flinging
A car load for the council recycling and another for the charity shop and three or four loads of laundry have been sorted out giving a cupboard for storage again
Well done, Twellsy. One of the best things about moving hive twice within 9 months was the amount of flingage I was forced to achieve. Very refreshing!
Had a nice lunch out with DS and DiL in Berwick. Tomorrow will be Embra for another meal not cooked by me - I could grow accustomed to this!
The wind is blowing a hoolie, but shouldn’t be too prolonged. Anyway - who can take a storm named ‘Dave’ seriously? All of the ‘Daves’ I’ve known have been benign in the extreme.
Soo xx
I think I have caught a dose of hyperbolics from you-know-who. Should I start on with the uppercase, put me in a corner with the GIN.
Soo xx
Is the threat of being put in a corner with the gin supposed to be a deterrent then, Soo? I don’t think it would work on me.
No, TFM, GIN! <Hyperbolics.
Soo xx
Nah.
GIN! > Hyperbolics in my view.
Budge up in the gin corner
I hope it is by the gin lake so I can swim up to join you all
The gin lake is outside.
But it has access to the gin corner via a sliding window surely
If not why not?
‘Dave’ is indeed a rubbish name for a storm and I feel it might have been a trifle unwise. I mean, if you’re a weather system with notions, you probably imagine yourself to be called something like ‘Damian, mighty subduer and destroyer of trees and poorly maintained roofs and disrupter of bank holiday weekend journeys’. After that, and with all due respect to Daves we have known, Dave is a bit of a comedown and might well provoke the storm in question.
ETA: I didn’t put that rogue apostrophe in’Dave’s’, dammit. Phocking phune.
No swimmin’ costumes in the Gin Corner. The rules are perfectly clear.
As is the gin served there, which is more, alas, than can be said for the lake.
Stairs.
Trapeze?
Air defences.
You go breaking a window by going through it on a trapeze, and then your leg falling down the stairs, you will get a bill for damages and no sympathy.
Yes me on me trapeze defends you all from larcenous corvids and replies of our sparrer’s rellies
Not at all what I had in mind, Dere.
Also, the sequins attract magpies, which we can Well Do Without.
I love magenpies