So, who wants to help ... to rattle on in the cellar?

Awningly good wishes forra Carinthia.

Orf to me nest.

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Tseep.

[yawn]

A pleasantly grey day here, though it’ll get hot later.

Lots to do, if you’re the sort that does. Or you could just sit back and relax wivva

yardarm

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I shall be driving a hundred miles or so to visit three small boys (just 1, nearly 3 and nearly 5) and their mother, my Other Daughter – which is fun. Then I shall be coming home again.

The weather means I need to take socks and a long-sleeved sweatshirt just in case.

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Which should also be fun, particularly after exposure to three smallies, no matter how delightful. Just thinking about it makes me feel faintly, well, faint.
Good luck and safe journeys

Have already dropped one full mug of tea, and later a slice of toast (in expected orientation, i.e. gazelle-side-down)

Now contemplating what to do for an encore.

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If Small Fings can’t reach the bar to buy me beer, I they find aren’t terribly interesting. I will grant that some are less obnoxious than others. I do not go on these visits.

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Carinthia asks me to pass this on to the Cellar:

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Yay for the new awning

Bacon butties and fresh loaves on the bar

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Huzzah!

Lo a joyful day is dawning
Crammed brimful wiv stripy awning…

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Away with all that stress
The van’s dressed to impress…
Good News!
Soo xx

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The day is dawning,
The people yawning,
So early morning,
We have a nawning.

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To cast cool shade on lakeside frolics
Like drinking beer and talking -
…why, about our doings during the rest of the year und so weiter

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Important logistics tip.

When you find yourself wondering “what did I do with the plate from my last sammich, because I want to use it again”…

Consider that the answer may in fact be “I didn’t put a plate under my last sammich”.

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:roll_eyes:
Been there, Hedgers.
Soo xx

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… or you ate the plate.

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You may jest, but…

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I like the journey, Gus; I especially like it if I tell the navi “no motorways” and go by unexpected routes which are more direct, though slower. It gives me time to decompress.

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Looking at that still, Joe, my first thought is “that’s not the only edible thing made from wheat in the foreground of the shot”.

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Hurrah for journeys willingly taken, with decompressive possibilities.

I send kind wishes to all, but particularly to Twellsy (who has had a rough day) and Carinthia, who is largely absent and, well, I hope she’s fine.

Good nights, Cellarites,
Soo xx

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Am here

Just…

50 shades of Knackered,& can hardly walk

Will Post more tomorrow

Carinthia.xx

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Cheers to the just here, the decompressing, the buzzing, the plate-eaters (didn’t wheaten plates once go under the heading of bread?), the yardarm callers, them who has had rough days, and any not covered by the above.
Our thoughts are also and often wiv them as have been smitten by falling sheep.
Glurp, my dears. Glurp indeed.
Gus xxx

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