I bloody hate this time of year. Need a large drink.
Yup, so do I.
Oh, I hadn’t me manners on me.
Hell, yes, please.
I was going to ask if we should sit on the misery bench and drink together but, hell, this is the cellar - we can make ourselves comfy in our misery, at least. No hard benches here, I’m sure.
Mine’s the one with chenille faux nails.
Your very good health, dear. hic.
Mixed pitchers and the hell with Darrington’s disapproval.
Even the Naughty Step is padded, and has its own mini-bar attached.
Orf to me nest.
What you might call a soft cell…
Haze has moved in. Not a good flyin’ day. More of a sittin’ in me On Sweet drinkin’ beer day.
What do you have to do to get yourself sent to the naughty step? It’s my spiritual home so it’s about time I gave it a try.
Being the Wrong Kind of Listener is a good start.
In yer end O’s are a good way of finding yerself on my naughty step
I gave up trying to be good and took up residence here YEARS ago
I have had a Message to say that our Dear Soo is having problems with the Internetty, / lack ovvit
All appears to be well
Orff to collect me Prescription
Thanks, Carinthia. xx
Cheers; thank for letting us know.
Hello, all. Back on-line. We’ve had a fab day out: had a walk in woods, scallops for lunch (yumski!) and a stroll across one of the most idyllic beaches I know - all of this in sunshine, too! No otters spotted, Gus, but two military jets flew almost directly over our chalet just now. One very closely after the first. Always prepare for a second we’ve learned, over the years.
The really surreal thing, for me, is when you’re on the top of a Welsh mountain somewhere and the obligatory two jets go past in the valley below you.
Below can be less terrifying than above, Fishers. The worst (and best) example from my experience was when walking with DD at the Corrieshalloch Gorge, a few years ago, and after the first had almost scalped us I warned her of the inevitable second and she was able to compose herself, just.
Indeed. I’m sure I’ve told this before, but I once looked down on the Red Arrows as they flew over Derwentwater and I was on Catbells. It was so astounding that I had to confirm with brother-in-law that it had really happened and I hadn’t dreamt it!
Many years ago I was sinbathing in my garden on the day of the air show 2 miles from me
The red arrows were turning just over my bungalow (I swear they left red paint on my chimney)
After the first turn the buggas started waving at me
I was trying to sleep in the sun being on night shift so I was NOT amused at the noisy things
Blimey, Twellsy! They could have plunged to their deaths and as usual it would be the Woman’s Fault. (see Adam and Eve.)
Remember SOD OFF BIGGLES?