So, back to normal, whatever that is. Sister Susie left on Friday morning on her long, long trek back to Portland and we are without any visitors and, perhaps more significantly, without any bookings for the Guest Wing until December! There’s still time to get your reservations in although you will have to be quick. Continue reading
The party’s host paid me a great compliment. “You are a good-looking woman,” he said. “Honest–I’ve had only one beer.”
My glow was only slightly dimmed when my husband interjected, “Imagine how great she’ll look after two.” Continue reading
Sorry for the short and sweet (?) nature of the Picayune this morning. As I wrote last time, we have sister Susie staying with us at the moment and most of you know how demanding she can be! Just kidding – we’ve had a great visit so far and have been out and about exploring our neighbouring stately homes and gardens. We also had Bubble for a couple of nights at the beginning of the week and are looking forward to another set of overnighters this week and next. Continue reading
The village blacksmith hired an enthusiastic new apprentice willing to work long, hard hours.
He instructed the boy, “When I take the shoe out of the fire, I’ll lay it on the anvil. When I nod my head, you hit it with the hammer.”
The apprentice did exactly as he was told, and now he’s the new village blacksmith. Continue reading
A man walks out on his front porch one day and sees a gorilla in the tree on his front lawn. He calls animal control and an hour later a man shows up with a ladder, a pit bull, and a shotgun.
The animal control employee tells the man, “I’m here to get the gorilla out of your tree. I’m going to use this ladder to climb up the tree and shake the branch the gorilla is on to knock him to the ground. The pit bull is trained to go after anything that falls from the tree and bites their testicles which paralyzes the animal with pain so I can lock him in the truck.”
The man says, “Okay, I see what the ladder and the pit bull are for but what is the shotgun for?”
The animal control employee says, “Oh, that’s for you. In case I fall out of the tree instead of the gorilla, shoot the dog.” Continue reading
Another good(ish) week – what are the chances of that? We did, finally, get a bit of the rain which has been threatened by the forecasters for the past several weeks. The weather map on Tuesday evening was awash with deep blue rain-signifying symbols covering the entire country. On Wednesday it did, indeed, rain but not nearly the deluge we had been led to believe would arrive. Instead we had a gentle sprinkle for much of the day which will have done Penelope’s garden a world of good but probably won’t fill the reservoirs to overflowing. Continue reading
It’s been a half decent week, I guess. A bit of warm sunshine, a bit of drizzle and misty rain, as well as a bit of windy wind. And while it’s been a half decent week on the weather front, it’s been another disastrous week in the unfolding drama of what a nightmare Brexit will bring. There’s been a new warning from one think tank or another almost every day. When it all does go belly-up I guess those responsible will at least have to concede that they were warned. Continue reading
A young boy was looking through some old family photos and asked his mother, “Who is the guy on the beach with you with all the muscles and curly hair?”
“That’s your father.”
“Then who’s that man who lives with us now?” Continue reading
Another good week – what are the chances of that? Good weather on the whole and the long-anticipated and much needed rain finally arrived, in a fashion, on Tuesday. Not the torrential downpours we had been promised but a light, steady rain which was very much welcomed by the flowers and vegetables in Penelope’s garden. Continue reading
Hunter was 5-years-old and was staying with his grandfather for a few days. He was playing outside with the other kids when he came into the house and asked, “Grandpa, what’s it called when two people sleep in the same bedroom and one is on top of the other?”
His Grandpa was a little uncomfortable with the question, but he decided honesty was the best policy. “Well, Hunter, that’s called sexual intercourse.”
“Oh,” Little Hunter said, “OK,” and went back outside to play with the other kids.
A few minutes later he came back in and said, “Grandpa, it isn’t called sexual intercourse. It’s called bunk beds. And Jimmy’s mom wants to talk to you.” Continue reading