So, who wants to help ... to take refuge in the Cellar?


Well, since we have been evicted without ceremony from our previous cellar, we’ll just have to dig one in a new garden, won’t we.

It looks much the same as the others have been: stairs lead down from a door with ‘Never say no to a Medicinal’ written on its lintel, and a warning notice beside it which says


The weather is getting warmer, but not yet warm enough for sitting about outside; there is still a fireplace, with toasting-forks and a kist full of warm shawls near it so that any chilly tart can wrap herself snuggly if needs be; the Other Cupboard is near it, above the Chatelaine’s chaise.

This cellar is in all the colours of Spring, to encourage it: yellows and whites and pale bright greens, with a few touches of dark hyacinth blue.

The aga, the other stove, the freezers and the food-cupboards are in the room which is behind the velvet curtain, off the corridor leading to the hot-tub and jacuzzi.

There are various pub-games: the shove-ha’penny board, the dominoes and the Nine Man Morris table are all present and correct, and there is a cupboard with cards and dice and board-games in it.

The On Sweet has a re-repaired metal mirror and has been re-feathered.

There is a glitter-ball as usual.

Darrington the butler, Ewbank, Honoré FitzMichael the pantler, The Page Three Pages, The Underfoot Men, and the re-upholstering lady Gwyneth with her team of seamstresses have moved here.

So have the Fancy Italian, Luigi to make us tea, Antonio the
coffee-maker, and Fritz the chocolatier.

I am hoping that we may get a garland made for us, and a kissing-bough…

There is a button at which you can sign up, at the top right of the page.

I just found
Credits Jan 14-19
I just found


Let’s just see if that Other Dunnock dares to…

Yes! There it is! Trying to sneak in again!

[peckity] [peckity] [peckity] [peckity] [peckity] [peckity] [peckity] [peckity] [peckity] [peckity]

That’s better. Cellar is now safe for use.


This is all very new to me. I’ve rarely stepped beyond the Archers.

Do you have a quiz night ?

Do you want one ??


Well, if you want to do one I don’t suppose anyone would mind! The Cellar has always been inclined to develop what the Denizens want of it.

The gin lake for Twellies, the Runner Ducks and the Goats for Digs… The On Sweet for That Bird…

Meanwhile, choose a chaise to longue on and ask Darrington for your tipple of choice: that’s his job.


Ecclesiastes 1:2 And you don’t want the old one -two from him, to be fair…
Mind yer beak, now


Gus and joe have come up with a house gin to keep behind the bar: Pangolin Gin.

It’s the gin for perfect articulation.


Did anyone think to liberate the dartboard?


Dunno, but if not, can we nominate, please?


There was no dartboard in the old Cellar, but it’s a good idea. So long as it is on a wall that isn’t near the Other Cupboard, which is where the Chatelaine keeps Important Things.

Nothing was left behind in the old one: when we leave them, the Underfoot Men and the Page Three Pages collect up everything before the bulldozers go in and fill it in.


I am taking refuge. From my chickpea curry, mainly. Is that allowed when I am still eating it? Touch on the fierce side (that would be the new chilli powder, dumkopf). S’got spinach and so on in and is good. Just H-O-O-O-T. No, bugger off Jill, wasn’t talking to you. Three 'O’s, see.

I can lob dollops of the fearsome concoction to them as wants.


I can’t eat chilli, Gus, but thanks for the offer. Come to that, I can’t eat chickpea either; legumes are not good for me. In fact I am A Bit Of A Failure when it comes to eating that particular curry!


I have already been suitably punished for my strange tastes, Fanta. I forgot the black cardamom. I bit some. Now I like the flavour of the little buggers dispersed, but when it comes to it concentrated - nah. Yik.
I could make you a jolly good spiced spud & spinach affair without chilli or legumes, though.


I’ll have That Fish’s share.


Oooo, a customer! Mind your beak for cardamom, then. It will be bloinging over in a tick. Catching bowls at the ready your end, I trust. Could be somewhat messy otherwise.


[happy tseepage and swofflery]


Careful with the old power-to-weight ratio on take-off, Hedgers. It’s slow-you-down stuff in it’s own quiet but chillified way.



I am keeping my Chaise well away from any dartboard

The only time I tried to play, people ducked behind the bar for their own safety…

Just sayin’



bwahahaha. I - partially - recall an evening when something like my birfday had been celebrated with cocktails many, varied, strong and ill-advised. And I insisted on playing darts afterwards. The bar was thinning out suspiciously quickly when I was hoisted over a manly shoulder and removed. For the Mills & Booners or just concerned citizens - no actual ravishing took place. Rupert (yes, really) wasn’t a ravisher. He did object to perfectly sound blokes being perforated by a drunken female, though, and considered the personal risk, to his knees and lower back if nothing else, nugatory. Harrovian to the core, bless him.
Gawd but I felt horrible in the morning.


I had a friend who once managed to bounce a dart off one of the wires in the dart-board: it skidded back along the bar, and hit the landlord.

Luckily for all concerned, it had lost most of its momentum by then.


Late OH was a very good sportsman, although he didn’t play darts. He despaired of me ever being able to throw a ball or make contact with it with any sort of racquet


He was astounded that I could, apparently, catch