Good Sirs and fair gentle lady folk, I am very much in rapture with the
way you are working it, and I should very much enjoy the opportunity to
place it in a bag and bloomin' well take it away with me. There. I've
said it! Yes, you're all looking bloomin' fabulous this morning! . . .
Even you! . . . Yes you! Yes, even with what you're wearing at the
moment! In fact, now I think about it, especially with what you're
wearing at the moment. And if you don't mind me saying, you all look
good enough to jolly well eat! Nom nom nom nom nom.
I'm sorry, I
do apologise, I seem to e channeling the Blackadder incarnation of Hugh
Laurie this morning. I fear I have been watching far too much of it
recently, and it seems it has rubbed off on me a bit. *Bites knuckle to
avoid making obvious lewd pun about something rubbing off on me* Right,
get a grip Tidy, and I don't mean that in any salacious manner either
before you start!
In truth, I am actually feeling somewhat
tiredly this morning, having had a difficult start getting to sleep last
night. All was well and normal as I put down my book and switched off
my bedside light last night. I was more than ready to be welcomed into
the arms of Morpheus, and was settling down into the steady breathing
pattern of nod. Then at around midnight, I heard a puzzling commotion
from out on the landing. It sounded like one of the cats was heavy
footedly careering about with a dogs squeaky toy! There was the the
repeated thumping of paws scampering at speed and then a long, drawn out
squeak. Wanting to know what in the name of arse was going on, I
decided to get up to open the door and have a look.
What
greeting me was an overly excited look of glee from the smallest cat and
as I looked down a rather terrified large frog. So I did what any man
would do in this particular situation. I switched on the bedroom light
and said, "Steph! There's a frog on the landing and I'm not sure what to
do about it." The frog at this point weighed up his options and made a
huge leap towards me and the relative safety of the bedroom. After I had
made it clear to the Awesome Lady T that the frog in question was very
much alive, by failing at my first attempt to catch it, I managed to
gently cup my hands around it's fat slimy body and lift it up. I then
safely released it back into wild, by opening the bedroom window with
the frog in my pajamas. (yes yes I know there's lot's of scope for
humorous replies to that statement, I purposely left out the punctuation
for you.) Fear not though, frogs can survive falls from greater heights
than a second floor window! Especially when a good aim lands them
gently in the greenery of the raised vegetable plot by the greenhouse.
In fact, as early as 1683 in the Norfolk village of Acle there was a
heavy shower of toads and most of those survived that fall. Besides I
did hear it hop off when it landed, so all is well.
So suffice
to say, after that little escapade the realm of sleep seemed to evade me
for quite some time. So I come to you this Wednesday in a slight state
of fuzzy-headedness. Still there is still the peak of the week to
conquer before we slide towards the weekend once more.
More coffee needed me thinks. Right well, I better scoot, don't ever change, and I'll see you all tomorrow.
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