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Sunday, 2 March 2014

In which One is still reeling…

The Wood Nymph enjoyed a beer filled birthday and was resplendent in her knitted poncho.  With arms outstretched she resembled a knitted tea bag.
It has come to the attention of Lovely One that there are a number of the little blighters in PR and that they are all, every last one of them, called Maria.
Now, call me old fashioned, but One can foresee slight issues with this tradition…
Imagine the stampede when Mama calls out the door…
‘Maria come inside for tea.’
When the roll call is made in school and teacher asks ‘Is Maria here?’ as all the little hands shoot up.
Anyway, the one One has in the Underground Lair is Maria of the Beer (and fried eggs)
One is still reeling from the news that Aged P has opted to remain in the ancestral home, charging up and down the rickety stairs on her crutches.
TEN EFFING DAYS One spent in that back bedroom, sleeping on that lumpy bed, in bottle green sheets, with scores of photographs of the Aged P at varying stages of life, grimacing down on One.
Off again this week to meet my adoring public in Deepest.


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