All good things come to re-visit one. Mayglothling time again and the very nice man is coupling up (not a euphemism – Ed.) to empty the you-know-what tank. It’s a sign of progress I suppose that he’s not actually shovelling **** (insert own word – Ed.) and a bedraggled heavily muffled care-worn horse isn’t waiting patiently harnessed to a cart.
I tried to look after his sensitivity by offering him a cup of awful tasting coffee hoping it would mask his sniffing powers – but he declined. “Ho hum” I said in my best Winnie the poo voice, “turned out nice again” (it was raining – Ed.).
I’m just a bit worried about the lumpy bits…
Merryhall. If all goes to plan we are moving, hoping to move is more accurate;…
Started chapters like so. “To Oswestry…”. So I did. But why, I hear you WhatsApp,…
by any other name. Browsing the local Facebook group (useful for local news, gossip and…
Early longest-day morning. Can I say that? Goosander family spooked by my minuscule appearance: a…