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Tuesday, 6 January 2015

In which One shares a cookery tip...

One has awoken with a ghastly headache.
It could be the howling wind on the beach yesterday, or smoke inhalation from when One set fire to the kitchen at the Manor...
Let me explain...
We braved the biting winds of Hurricane Herbert, who was howling along Woolacoombe Bay and walked all the way to Croyde along the sand.
One is an avid shell collector and many a rainy afternoon is spent questioning the A of the F as to whether he can recall the exact location in which each individual shell was acquired.
One sees any failure in this task as a clear indication of the dying of the flame of love and as such metes out harsh punishments.
The A of the F,  being a clever cove, plays along foreseeing fish finger sandwiches and a BJ as just deserts for humouring One.
Any road up, I digress...
One was occupied picking bits of broken glass out of the bottom of One's tiny foot, having swiped a crystal tumbler off the dining table with One's arse, when One became swathed in a cloud of thick black smoke.
As the butler ushered the tweenies up the back stairs to the safety of the grounds, the alarms rung out across the estate and the grill shot out furious licks of Orange flame.
'What the feck have you done now?' Enquired the A of the F clutching a wet hankie over his face.
One, magnificent in a crisis, flung the flaming pan, complete with snorkers, into the sink, and restored order into the blackened kitchen.
The A of the F repaired to the smoke free zone of the sitting room muttering into his wet hankie.
All in all, an eventful day and One in which One learnt something that One shall happily share with you, Dear Reader...
Tesco finest snorkers taste even better when marinated briefly in washing up liquid.

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