Firstly, Dear Reader, as One is sure you’ve all been pacing the floor in anticipation of good/bad/indifferent news regarding the excavation of One’s chuff box area, let me allay your fears of the worst and tell you: One is likely to survive in the immediate future, although the intruder may be cause for later concern. No matter, pass the fags and Pinot, Darling.
‘Hurrah’ One hears you chorus collectively, ‘Don’t desert us Lovely One, especially so close to the season of goodwill to all men.’ (Although it has yet to be determined whether this extends to all/some women.)
Goodwill to all men, indeed, and with that in mind One playfully suggested to the A of the F that we should biff forthwith to Arlington Court and peruse the Christmas Fair. A more sombre gathering of seasonal stallholders ‘twould be difficult to imagine and One and the A tiptoed through the marquee, whispering, so as not to disturb their slumber.
The application of a smidge of mulled wine/carollers/ho ho ho ing wouldn’t have gone amiss and so we perambulated into the main hice.
‘Twas the ancestral gaff of Sir Francis Chichester, although you’d never have guessed, given the distinct lack of info regarding the seafaring cove. Not a problermo for Lovely One though, since wherever we go or whatever we do the uber well informed A of the F is literally awash with further information.
‘Did you know he flew around the world before he circumnavigated?’ enquired the encyclopaedic A.
‘No,’ said One who was busy admiring the shell collection and the felt mice distributed about the gaff. Not to mention the knitted Christmas Tree (see above)
Sensing One’s disinterest the A cleared off looking at models of boats whilst One marvelled at the various woollen crafts.
Espying one of those old birds what stand about in stately homes looking cross, One enquired,
‘Can you tell me the significance of the felt mice?’
‘Oh they are part of a children’s trail around the house,’ came the reply.
Mmmm thinks One, that about sums up Moi entirely.
‘Come on,’ says One to the A, ‘I want to go and have a look at the Bat-Cam.
When we got there, that too was a children’s attraction.
The A has a special look for One when he gets exasperated and he adopted it without delay.
‘Come one you,’ he huffed, ‘before you find any other ‘things to do before you’re thirteen and a half’ activities.’
So we biffed off to Tesco, got some chocolate and snuggled up in front of the fire.