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Monday, 1 May 2017

In which One has lost the plot...

May Day dawns and brings with it wind and rain.  Poor old stall-holders at the fair!

I remember the first May fair that me and BF did together.  Her with her fabric creations and me with my paintings.  It was the most glorious day, weatherwise.

Neither of us can be bothered with such events these days: she: creating in her shed and me only able to paint on my day off.

Even our chum, the purveyor of previously owned treasures is swerving the event, having had a poor result on the previous two.

I, having had a few days off (spent bashing me shreddies against the rocks down at the stream) might saunter up the High Street and gaze longingly at all the goodies I can't afford to purchase.

Shall be imbibing a sufficiency of charcoal bisquits afore I depart though, since have clearly acquired an intestinal parasite of some kind...

Following the farting of the Wedding March the other day, I must now be fair lifting the quilt, ceiling-ward, since last night I dreamt that I had some castinets stuck up me bum and was leaping out at unsuspecting passers-by, breaking into a flamenco frenzy and accompanying meself with aforementioned unseen castinets.

Am most definitely losing the plot...

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