Before and after!
This is the nerve-centre of my Sunday sofa empire. With my head full of blogging topics and my tum full of fried brekkie I survey my domain. It's wet so Lettice will have to wait for her walk. The super-strength sofa suckers keep my bot firmly fixed in its feather filled cushions' clutches. I valiantly try to prise myself out, then fall back comforting myself with the notion a cafetiere of coffee will be along shortly.
What to tell you about, that's the big question?
I know ... I'll tell you about the prick in my trews. The WHAT? Yes, you heard right!
I've got these wonderful creased, grungy screw-up-able trousers with an elasticated waist (an absolute must with a spreading girth). I wash them, hang them up to dry and then twist them up to maintain the creases, although having said that 5 minutes on and the creases have given up the ghost at the onslaught of my bulging buttocks. Lettice had to go to the vets so I decided that the creased ensemble would be the appropriate gear, especially as I would have to bend down to lift her onto the consultation table; get my drift?
I got the scrunched trews out and proceeded to put them on... what was that? I felt a scratch on my knee, probably a bit of thistle from the garden I thought. Up they went when suddenly I felt a sting on my thigh. Slowly, ever so SLOWLY I gently took them off. Peering into the nether regions of the aforesaid apparel I saw a socking great Queen hornet or wasp. Carrying them carefully downstairs I gave them to Hubs to sort. He peered into my trousers and nearly had a fit (no funnies please!) I am not telling porkies when I say the blooming thing was at least 2 inches long. The bite on my thigh looked like I'd been punctured by a thin knitting needle. Being a hero I whacked some Aloe on it and off we went.
The question is how did it get there? Was it there when I got them in from the line? Or probably most likely it came in and decided that my bundle of fun breeks were a des. res. for hibernation purposes .... WRONG!