So, who wants to help ... to flummox the cellar?

Gawds

Every bit of me is protesting, this morning & ittiz raining.

Hot shower, methinks

Carinthia.xx

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Won’t last.

Hope the hot shower soothes things, Darling, and that it is a wonderful day
Gxx

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I am just wishing our Chatelaine a happy wonderful day and the gorgeous girl I met a happy happy day and a life of joy

Pain can feck off

Remember to furfle the Poodle for me wee bee and have a great time with your family

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Best wishes to all hurtlin’ and wedding-attendin’ Cellarites. (Oh all right and the rest of you too.)

yardarm

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Shall we spoil ourselves with a full Ulster fry?

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Definitely. Been pressure-washing the bin, because our council CBA to collect food waste every week any more.

But on the bright side, the pressure-washer remains one of my favourite toys.

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Mine was a penguin.
.
.
.
name of Bird-Bird

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Oh. Mine was called Pengy.

He fell under a train at King’s Cross station when we were on our way to a holiday in Northumberland, and the engine driver moved the whole train so that a porter could get Pengy off the track, which he duly did; but Pengy had a cross-grained expression for ever after. Possibly this had something to do with oil and smuts.

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What a kind engine driver

For you were brighter than I
(or I was younger than you)

< departs, humming >

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OK Dory.

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I din’t have a penguin [sniff]. I hope you all have tissues ready, cos I didn’t have any cuddly toys at all [sniff][sob].

It’s no wonder I’m en emotional mess, really [howl].

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Did you have any of the following:
skipping rope (with handles- v important)
tonka-type truck
wooden building blocks
pull-along wooden duck/dog/dinosaur?

Because it is a lot easier to bludgeon one’s peers into submission/a bloodied pulp with any of the above than with a plush penguin. So hush and dry your eyes, dere.

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I had all of the above bar the truck, plus I had a very solid and heavy pair of wooden stilts. And you are correct about the bludgeoning qualities, which probably explains why my little brother is even more of an emotional mess.

(In my defence, he deserved it, having once tried to kill me by putting a cushion over my face and sitting on it. I think he was three at the time).

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Are my cackles audible on Ellan Vannin? Tell me, what career did little bro espouse?

Heavy wooden stilts? < envy >

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Only one thing he could do, following the attempted murder by cushioning.

( But don’t tell soo!)

I loved them, and was rather good on them though I say so myself.

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Ah. An apiarist, then ;- )

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Bleurgh. Morning.

yardarm

:zzz:
:bird:

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I used to adore skipping

One birthday I got new red Clarke’s sandals

I wore them out to play skipping with other girls on the street in the car park area

I came back home after an hour and showed off my bleeding feet through the holes I had made in my posh new sandals’ soles

I was not popular!

Another time one of our neighbours’ sons pulled my skipping rope from me and used it to whip me

My father saw this and used my skipping rope to whip the bully to his door where the bully’s parents were informed as to why he was being brought home with a girly skipping rope

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I entirely agree, it is a very bleurgh sort of a morning.

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Fog here trying to be rain but not quite managing it!

Bacon butties and hot BM soup to cheer us I think

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