The thing is
With the stair rods
I am starving
But it’s painful to eat with the sort of stump
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Liquid diet then, Twellsy.
Soup & Gin
Big Hugs
Carinthia.xx
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Is there a gin fairy please?
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Oh no! I can’t believe you have another thing to cope with Twellsy, unfair beyond belief. I want to get on a plane and visit so I can give you a proper hug, but sending all the hugs you can cope with from here.
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[flappity] [flappity] [flappity] [flappity] [flappity][flappity][flappity][flappity][flappity][flappity]
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Talking of spam emails, as I was recently, I’ve just had one offering ‘hurricane scrubbers’. Since I don’t imagine it is possible to scrub a hurricane, this must either refer to a household cleaning tool or a very fast…
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Dear wee birdie
Just the anaesthetic I need
Thank you all for the hugs
They really really do help
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Well, the gin is taken care of by that diligent Dunnock, so I feel I should decant some of me nourishing lentil, carrot, bacon & tomato soup for the patient.
Christmas cake no. 2 is in the oven and the fruit for no. 3 has been prepared and is sozzling away in its brandy and orange juice. The Gushut has therefore been designated The House of the Third Stickiness. Do you think Ingrid Bergman could be convincing as Me?
Shouldn’t moan when Twellers is placed as she is, but I feel Bluddy Awful. Apart from the cake, all I have done today is take a 30 min bus ride to another part of London to do a couple of errands. Short walks to and from the stops, shops close together. Bus back home. And I am utterly exhausted. Feel as if I have been moving pianos, or perhaps billiard tables (was foolish enough to get involved in both projects in the past). Ugh. Fed Up With It, I am.
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You are perfectly entitled to moan. Also to demand sympathy, you have mine anyway, whether you demand it or not - you have put up with this more than long enough.
I think you need gin too. I don’t need gin, but I wouldn’t say no.
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Things must be bad - don’t fancy gin atm. But thank you for the thought, taken in the spirit, as it were, in which it was meant.
Cheers me dear
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Flippin’ 'eck, Gus…My sympathy, for what it’s worth. I really think that you should rest, tomorrow and forra while.
Soo xx
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Ooo I might just panic about a Gus not fancying gin
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Not to fret, Twellsy: had I any dry ginger ale, I could murder a Horse’s Neck. But I haven’t, so tea it is.
And, mindful of a Bee’s advice, I have come to bed.
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Soo xx
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Oof
I have just woken up after an 2 hour Snoozette on the sofa again
I had an Plan to go to the Post Office, but felt too shaky to drive, so had a walk up the road instead
Well done Gus for achieving so much
Liberates Medicinal
Carinthia.xx
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Sometimes getting on a bus, or leaving the house at all, just seems like More Faff Than It’s Worth. Even if there are good friends and good drink at the other end.
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You alright, Hedgers?
I might shuffle off to bed. Good nights, all.
Soo xx
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Gin, Soo
The people at the Post Office are very nice, but sadly no booze… 
Carinthia.xx
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I’m all right; I get depressed, but I can overcome it.
Orf to me nest.
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Just to say that I have got home. Much sympathy, and hugs, for those in need, particularly poor Twellies. If it’s not one thing,Twellies, it’s two things…
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