Meet in the middle?
“Dr Livingshtone, I… Zzzz…”
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Well, no, as I have endured such a thing since my teenaged years. Pah - it’s nothing. The ‘freebies’ you sent me were for the gorgeous apricot and pistachio cake I nade a few years ago - upon your recommendation, Gus. I have made quite a few, since.
We’d clash heads in the rush, Hedgers 
Time for bed. Best dreams, all.
Soo xx
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Joe
I think I luuurve you
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[snurf]
[snifsnifsnuf SNUUUUURF]
yardarb
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Et tu, Hedgers? Pore fing.
Soo xx
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Poor wee birdie
Would a bacon buttie and a BM help
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Always, me dear.
Feed a cold etc.
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Mebbe time for the traditional Irish cure: bottle of whiskey(*), and a hat. Directions: place hat at end of bed. Go to bed. Drink whiskey until the hat moves.
(*) I’m sure gin could be substituted …
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The Finnish four-foot cure is similar: drink until you see four feet.
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Less than useful for the becatted among us, that one.
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Far be it from me to cast aspersions but if Hedgers et tu, where have the rest of the bacon rolls gone?
Heartily seconded. Fiendish Ginger Drinks for two followed by pistols for one sorry, got a bit confused there. Something to do with being able to see six feet, I think.
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“On a clear day I can see to the end of the bed”?
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Snork Fishy
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I now have the Goggles of Enlargement and can see all kinds of things.
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Poor little sparrer. Here’s a lovely soft freshly laundered and ironed hankie for you.
On a clear day, I can see Wales when I am lying in bed, but only if I am wearing my spectacles. And am sober. Three conditions which rarely coincide.
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I know that situation. Also when standing, cooking, walking and, simply, pondering new ways* to irritate the Plaid councillor opposite.
- in case you’re worried I probably have enough already, but new ones are always fun to dream up.
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The very next time I’m lying in bed sober, on a clear day, with specs on, I’ll give you a wave. And you’d better wave back, or else. It won’t be today though, when I went for a walk* earlier the sea mist was so thick I couldn’t even see across the bay.
- I walked a whole mile. And felt proud of myself. How pathetic am I?
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Not at all pathetic, TFM.
I have a sudden and unexpected yearning for sauerkraut. Not the flabby pasteurised sort, but the real deal. Pathetically, I can’t be *rsed to make it myself. Hmmmm.
Walkies for me this arvo though mostly in shade, I hope.
Soo xx
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Anyone want cold wet weather?
I can send some of what I have
TFM
You know the sea fog that dips incessantly but isn’t exactly rain?
Tha’s what we have
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That’s what I call ‘harr’, and it can be quite dispiriting, Twellsy. Although I’d never willingly live far from the sea, this is one of the disadvantages. I gather, from elseboard, that your lovely little caulis have been ruined by gastropods. A pox onnem, says I.
Our walk was hot and humid and I’m glad that I went and that I’m back. Sauerkraut has been ordered online as I couldn’t shake either the cravings or the lassitude that prevents me from doing it myself.
I wonder what our Chatelaine is up to and how the Fishly-Dunnocks are faring. Oh, Gus - I think that I was cruelly dismissive of the ingrown toenail. My experience has been that, once it is ‘dug out’, the pain is much reduced.
DD is to 'phone at 4. Hang on…
Soo xx
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