So, who wants to help ... to cower in the cellar?

Ridge?

Talking of perching, young Vicky has just discovered what her wings are for, so has been having an exciting afternoon exploring the z-axis. Inevitably, she found her way to Humanwatching Station #1

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If the building were trousers, we would be talking about its pockets, not the waistband, so ‘ridge’ isn’t working for me. But it is a very nice little dragon.

Not as nice as humanwatching, z-axis-exploring Vicky, though. Splendid, sneaky wee fowl, Extra worms for her from Auntie Gus, please.

No,I don’t want excuses. Bring me solutions. <Thank you, that was delicious [erpity] >
Look, you’ll just have to dig for them. Don’t tell me your godlike status with the poultry means nothing to you, joe…

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Ah - you mean the whole sticky-out thing, not just the particular bit on which the dragon is perched? I think it depends what’s underneath. My first though was dormer, but that would be sticking out of the main roof, not below it. Could be a porch roof.

(I perhaps ought to point out that it’s been 39 years since I didn’t bother to take Tech Drawing O-level…)



You did notice the industrial quantities of sunflower seeds stashed at bottom left?

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Oh yes. I thought what a messy and disorganised baker you must be… No, I noted them and was happy but unsurprised that your chooks get the best of what is going. Let’s face it, if they didn’t they’d be in the house, flogging your stuff on eBay and probably have the tyres off the car before you knew it. Never underestimate an aggrieved fowl.

< wince > My dear Pa was very strong on it. The late mister, although subsequently warped by Camberwell, also. Me? bwahahahaha, with added smudging.

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[innocent tseep]

yardarm

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Help

I am under two large cats

I covet that thur wee dragon and Vicky the fowl with fevvered bootees

Poor Mrs A

It is so wearing to be in pain and discomfort from a whacking great lump of plaster hung on your neck

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[waves an unwell antelope, separated from its herd and limping badly, in a catwardly direction]

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Thank you wee birdie

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++???++ Out of Cheese Error

I’m going to have to go shopping, aren’t I? Damn. Don’t want to.

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I must too; we have someone coming to stay and food will be required.

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And a beef stew is now prepped and simmering to itself in the slow-cooker, and the frying-pan, chopping-board and knife washed up, and all is well with the world. All that remains to be done is iron ten pillow-cases because they have built up while I wasn’t looking, put a sheet on the spare bed and a duvet cover on a duvet, insert a couple of pillows into the freshly-ironed cases that match the duvet-cover, and then I can clear all my kipple of the table in the main room, where it went in a hurry because

Ah. I didn’t mention it here, did I: I was too busy dealing with it.

Two days ago I managed to trip and throw all but half-an-inch of my breakfast 350ml glass of orange-juice onto my desk. By some miracle it missed both the keyboard and the paper-filled in-tray, but in order to get at the small orange lake before it spread and got to any papers I had to move them rapidly to Somewhere Else, which was the table. And as I was putting them there they went all over the place, so it seemed a good opportunity to sort them out a bit after I had cleared the desk and wiped the desk and wiped the floor and polished the desk – and they have been there ever since, and the table is needed tomorrow. They are in fairly neat piles at the moment, for filing in one or other place, but the actual filing has not been done and has to be.

It’s a great life if you don’t weaken. < coff >< coff>< coff>< coffcoffcoffcoffcoffcoffcoffcoff>

Memo to self, buy cough mixture next time you go out instead of forgetting it, numpty.

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Tricky one, that. I recommend going out and finding a small child or two. It’s like mines and chimneys, but with slightly less washing required.

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Self-evaporating ferrets? Yes I know we ought to use the recyclable ones, but…

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Oh Bother.
It’s a year, give or take, since your desk got its last impromptu clean for very similar reasons. Although iirc it was just water. Mark the calendar and Allow For It next year, dear Fishy ;- )

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With the difference that in that instance it is the childer that need cleaning afterward, whereas in your projected scenario it would be the duvet cover, sprogs tending to be faintly sticky to the touch.

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Turn the fire hoses on 'em. Only thing they understand. (And keeps 'em at a safe distance.)

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I am worried about POM. Just made my daily call to check all is well and she told me she’s been thinking all day about Mrs Wentworth Brewster - in her own words, she fancies having a go at ‘doing a Mrs Wentworth Brewster’.

And worse than that, she ‘knew I would understand’ because, apparently, I’m very like her.

Sigh.

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Eeek TFM

I used to be told by folk I was like my Mama

Now I am more like my aunt and Grandma

This is a good thing

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Actually, I’ve just listened to it for the first time in decades and you know what? I can see her point!

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