That Birdie usually takes an modest amount, as befits an young Sparrer, then drinks, whilst keeping an beady eye on the state of the plates & dishes. Anything wot looks abit lonely is the corralled to within range & swoffled discretely. Then there are Moar Drinks, & it arsks about the possibility of Leftovers…
Leftovers have to be taken with Even Moar Drinks & then there could be either Fighting or Singing in the On Sweet.
Sometimes itizz like an Irish wedding & there is both…
I have obserbed that the time lag between someone setting their plate down to fill their glass and the birdie swoffling it is 2.4 nanoseconds when it is being slow and sedate about the swoffling
Lay the lightly stunned groomsmen in a line on the grass outside the marquee, like salmon. Adds a certain country-house ambience and makes the dance floor a safer place.
My deep dive into the garage produced my rubber boots*/wellingtons, which must be 35 years old.
*Quiet at the back, but they do have 2" heels…
Anyhoo, they are in perfect condition, but were filthy, so I have cleaned them up, & put them into the charity shop bag. My feet won’t let me get into them any more.
I have had a long conversation wiv wor Posh, who finally got an Handyman to do a couple of jobs for her.
As a result, Patrick now has his steps, which he loves, although we feel that some LED lights along the edges might be a good idea, as his eyesight izzabit poor these days.
It’s not the heel height which is the problem, Twellsy, it’s the actual pulling them on & orff now that my feets are abit more awkward than they were. There are no zips so I would have to point my toes down & pull.
Quite, although I do have rubber ankle boots wivvan zip in the top. I believe that they were for gardening but, as they have an very rugged sole, I wear them to take the bins out in snow & ice.
