I have my own walker so we know that is good
Hey ho I am used to being a clown
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I wasn’t mocking you, Twellsy
In my father’s heyday, he would potter around the ward chatting to everyone & the Nurses loved him for it.
Other patients often spot a problem before the staff too
Carinthia.xx
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I know you weren’t mocking dear
You are too nice to mock anyone!
I refer to my being a clown as in laughing at myself when I fall
Better than crying and getting into a tizz
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Always.
My Sis is wending her way down to stay with us for a few days. The fatted calf is being prepared.
Soo xx
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Prepares Gin
Lots ovvit…
Carinthia.xx
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The nurse she say NO to me going walk about
So the Bull gets more jumper knitted
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Hedgers, have you been raiding the SWs’ wall again?
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If I had been I’d have left some suggestions. “Moar Murder” for example.
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Stoo here, with a mountain of cabbage. Well it should have been a mountain but I got distracted, so in reality it’s more a substantial hillock. Had I had suet, as opposed to a packet containing about a teaspoonful of suet (and I can’t blame anyone else for that, annoyingly), I would have made dumplings, too. So feel free to imagine dumplings.
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You’re quite sure you don’t have a suet-deprived moggy?
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Did you manage to wrestle a turnip from Baldrick? Or is the stoo turnipless as well as dumplingless?
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I think he’s in the clear. It was, strangely enough, vegetarian suet… works surprisingly well, actually.
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Turnipless, sob. But I upped the carrot < shuttup, you lot at the back > accordingly. I wasn’t going out today just for a bleedin’ turnip, what do you think I am?
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I refuse to answer that question on the grounds etc.
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Here’s a handy Fifth Amendment to shield your modesty, dere
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Since we indulged in steak pie & chips for lunch, it will be just a light supper here. Kippers. And butter.
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I am now extremely thirsty. (Not a hint, just the kipper effect.)
And slightly worried about Twellsy, she’s very quiet. Hope she’s doing OK.
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“It’s too quiet, Carruthers. I don’t like it.”
“Better than the drums, Arbuthnot.”
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You know what happen when the drums stop.
Trombone solo!
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When it’s not a bleedin’ sax…
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