Sometimes, one can be pleasantly rewarded for an unselfish act.
Tuesday, 23 June 2009
Peppy
Sometimes, one can be pleasantly rewarded for an unselfish act.
Friday, 1 May 2009
The Ladies of Penge
Elizabeth rang last night and I truly regret answering the telephone as I remained stuck to the earpiece for over two hours and still have a headache!. I was a trifle snippy with her. It is not as though she has anything of a revelatory nature to tell, just the usual moan-age about her ever worsening varicose veins. I tell her repeatedly that a good pair of support tights can work wonders, but does she listen?... NO, is the answer.
Friday, 17 April 2009
Easter Sojourn
I have but recently returned from my annual Easter sojourn to the once glorious holiday destination of Brackish Spa. Now alas, a withered little town, given to Izal scented Old Peoples Homes and equally Izally purged theme pubs. The Brackish Waters were once rumoured to cure leprosy and other such maladies, but now it is not recommended to partake of the l'eau Brackish. The waters have only recently been discovered to be the primary cause of heartburn, diarrhoea and a nasty rash to the lower extremeties.
Every year my old school friend Elizabeth and I pack our portmanteaus and revisit Brackish Spa's unenticing areas. We must endure the mandatory trek to see her Auntie Maureen, this incorporates several visits to Shifty Acres, a residential house for the infirm and elderly. Shifty Acres is home to Elizabeth's Octaganerian mother, Gladys. Gladys was, and still is, a formidable female and it has always been a wonder to me that she had any offspring at all. She was a former Prison Officer and reform school gym teacher. When Gladys was around, I have to say that neither Elizabeth or I were ever at the mercy of bullies, yobs and other unwanted male attention during our girlish years.
I accompany Elizabeth on this, frankly arduous, week away, primarily to keep her spirits up, for I will suffer for it if I don't. Poor dear Elizabeth is a tad bitter about her lot in life and feels that the phrase "life's rich tapestry" is a mockery. Her backdrop is sagging and her threads are bare. It is tragic that the-powers-that-be were not in a generous mood towards Elizabeth when they were handing out life's gifts.
But how good it is to be in my house once more. I feel in need of a holiday, but the soothing balm of normality and the comforts of home are not to be underrated. Ahhh, the joys of running hot water and not having to bathe in a hip bath.
yours truly
Griselda Primrose
Monday, 30 March 2009
The Quality of Mercy is Not Restrained
Wednesday, 25 March 2009
It Is Not To Be
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Something is rotten in the state of Denmark
Monday, 16 March 2009
I Know Where I Went Wrong Dear...
I rummaged through my attic yesterday and found, to my delight, a box full of knick knacks which contained within, the very mittens that had been at the root of my distressful "episode" last Friday 13th. The controversial garments were accompanied by this letter.
Friday, 13 March 2009
A warning... gloves!
Dear Reader,
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
LAI
Friday, 6 March 2009
Dearly Departed
Had a call from my dear friend Ivan. He had very kindly sent a lovely card, with his condolences, to my mother on the passing of Grandmother (dearly departed), and I thanked him most profusely. He asked about Grandmother's funeral, which had taken place last week.