Gus dear
O2 is around the 90% mark
I have been excused peak flow checks as I have not enough puff to get the thing to register
The Bull has 10” of the back of a nice warm jumper knitted on my knitting loom
I am just knitting a row or two each time I catch my breath and mop up the sweat
BM shots do?
Soo xx
I also can report that my thing blowing warm wet air up my hooter is like a heffalump trunk
Carinthia
I left the crackers
Fruit cake is much better for cheese
Oh. I thought they were ABG samples for a minute
Even my blud fails to have black pepper crusting the samples
90% is better than 88% dere. But we need another 5% on there PDQ please, missus. Want you back home as soon as maybe and not sweating and snorting in durance vile. Meanwhile, this is all to yon Bull’s gain in the matter of gansey.
G xx
We’ll stick with oximeters and BMs, Gus 
Soo xx
I would make bus journeys specifically for striking up casual conversations to drop that, as it were, in, Soo. Just a thort.
G xx
Oh, while offering the victim a piece of chocolate, obviously
Certainly a thort, Gus. Thanks!
My story ended well - I swerved oral contact with the hair* and I was given loadsa hush chocolate by the firm.
Soo xx
Bedtime. Good nights, all.
BM Shots are Perfeck, Soo
I’ll Proffer Gin & retire wiv me bucket…
Carinthia.xx
Alcohol By Glass?
Have been channeling my Inner Jill.
Date and coconut flapjacks in the oven, bread proving. Still a surprising quantity of chocolate biccies and chocolate & almond cake available…
A seed-cake will be coming out of the oven here in about three minutes, and then I am going to bed.
Arterial Bludd Gas, dere.
So if you are in bed and the cake is cooling…
< revs up broomstick, shoves bottle of madeira in capacious pocket of winter flight bloomers >
Am 'ome.
It’s a tad wet out there.
Especially on the straight bit of the slip-road where I normally decelerate - about half to an inch of water on the surface.
Fortunately I was going slowly…
Step away from the seed cake, Dunnock !
Carinthia.xx
It is torrential here. The cat got in a strop because I was on the Evil Phone for the nightly chat with the Ma. which takes attention from him, and thus demanded Woutses. Just before the heavens re-opened. I presume he is holed up somewhere - there is quite the array of vehicles to choose from - keeping the worst off his jealous wee head.
Gitcat.
Why?
What do you know that I don’t? I was planning a broomstick raid.
Is the cake… safe? (not from me, it wouldn’t be)
Prolly not from Hungry Birdies either…
Carinthia.xx