It all started with the wind; I’m a martyr to it. And then Ronald wanted somewhere to fiddle, so we decided to build a garage for Ronald and a Summerhouse for me.

Where does all the wind come from and why does it always  follow me? I thought the answer would be to build a summerhouse. Just a small one I always think a large one is too  vulgar for a lady. All sorts of things could go on with a large one whereas a small one is ideal for ladylike activities.

2 thoughts on “

  1. Dear Celia,
    Well havent we been a busy little bee!?….Errectile dysfunction in your lady garden….are you sure the nation is ready for this kind of exposee? You led me to believe that you were on a river cruise in the West Midlands, but clearly you were at home all along, you and Ronald frollicking amongst the ladies mantle. I knocked on your front last Wednesday and thought I could hear muffled scratchings. I took it to be the neighbours tortoise attempting a premature spring breakout, like it did last year when it ended up at Mrs Rollingtons funeral service, but now I am convinced you and Ronald were screwing and banging and then you heard my knock, and hid…..yes Celia that is what I believe ……wat have you to say?!


  2. Really Veronica, you are such a drama queen and rubbish at geography. I was cruising in Oxfordshire, hardly the West Midlands. Ronald and I finished screwing and banging the week before we went away, which was why we needed a rest. However I concede that our choice was mistaken more about that later. And will you stop knocking on my front at inappropriate times, the neighbours are complaining. Mrs Tinglebottom is still recovering from your last visit in my absence; she says the sight of your ‘Tweety Pie’ knickers filling the void in my utility room window when she was walking. Little spiffy, is giving her nightmares.


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