A fly on the wall of...

my weekend.

Friday found my heart broken, strop levels soaring.

On arrival back from tai chi and the barbers,

Ted informed me that waiting to be snipped

(NOT that sort!)

he got to read the...

Daily Mail...

now, as if that wasn't bad enough...

Hang on...

s'pose...

The Daily Sport 

could have been worse?

He, in hushed voice informed me that my latest squeeze

(and I wouldn't mind, but he's not even GAY)

((my first deviation from the norm...

that'll teach me!!!))

has found a new love.

You'll never in a million years guess who...

Auntie Bessie...

Auntie Bessie?

Yes that one...

her of the cardboard Yorkshire puddings.

My culinary organical world has come crashing down

and as for my furtive lusting...

Well?

Keith, my card-carrying, cardigan wearing

idol of veg boxes (bet he even has soil under his nails) has sold out.

Ted said when I shot off a missive to Abel and Cole...

'Sold out sounds a bit harsh Lin!'

Edward, always the diplomat and peacemaker.

'That's exactly how I feel!' Strop replied.

Saturday morning found me much improved...  

I strode purposefully up the the 

WI Autumn Sale - 10 am

last Saturday I'd done the same...

problem... I was seven days too early...

Now I know queueing is de rigueur on these occasions 

however this was definitely taking the Michael.

I bought a three metre length of wonderful Sanderson

fabric for £2, a tray cloth and a bamboo vase thingy.

Buying raffle tickets I said...

'My only raffle prize was at the age of seven, when I won a 

hundred fags... that's how lucky I am!'

I then went to case a local Flea market, for flogging off my remaining

treasures.  I came away feeling a trifle flat.

Has the bubble burst I idly wondered as I shot home, 

breaking the sound barrier in my

scratch black Smart, complete with Smarty Pants sticker, 

fluffy dice, red noses and HUGE cow-catching poppy on the front.

Sarah Brightman eat your heart out!

Beaten you... so there!

Fish pie and Strictly evening...

Sad I know!

Sunday...

now you're talking...

All's good in the world.

Ted had limbo-danced at dawn out of the marital bed, 

in order not to awaken the slumbering giant.

He is off to a Fibonacci appreciation society meeting.
Fibonacci I said, not flaming Liberace!
Don't ask?

A quiet day was planned for Miss Tena and me...

Can you spot the raffle prize in the form of a magnificent 
basket of fruit?
Would I have preferred the invitation to the Ambassador's party
by way of Ferrero Rocher?
I'll leave you to decide!
Careful!

We went for a slow walk to the car park and back.

I then scooted up to the paper shop,
only buying one, as I had major plans for landscaping the pond.

Coffee at eleven

taken in the directors chair
surveying the work.

In for lunch, quick blog, 'Little Weed' like, back into the garden 
to enjoy the warm Autumn rays.

Roast Sirloin planned for dinner served with
 MY Yorkshire puddings...

Two eggs
4 oz plain flour
Milk 
Dash of cold water, in the form of tears!
Smoking hot fat...
Oven roof lifted.