Oh deer!
With the threat of the debtor's prison lifted, life seems a little more rosy these days. The wall has come down and the room that was once my office will soon reverberate to the sound of a crackling log fire and Film Four. True, little things like replastering, decorating and a new carpet have all to be sorted out and paid for. But it will happen. Of that I am sure.
We rounded off the weekend with the most superb piece of venison I have ever tasted. The haunch was supplied by one of my colleagues from the Death Star and not only was it beautiful to eat, it was also very cheap. Which always helps. I cooked it in the Aga atop roasted root vegetables and with a lemon and rosemary marinade, mingled with beef stock. The meat was so succulent, I may never watch the film Bambi again without thinking about it. Had I known when I first watched that film how good venison tasted, I probably wouldn't have cried when Bambi's mother got shot.
The nymph could do with a bit more clothing. Maybe a hat or something. I am not sure if Lady Friend realises the initiation ceremony she will have to go through before moving in. It involves sneaking out at night wearing only shorts, wellies and a small top and being photographed with the nymph. Just like Mr Loggins did last year. Maybe she could put Mr St John's shorts on the nymph. But I stand corrected by Lady Friend. She wishes to make it clear she is very keen on Mr St John's legs and why would she want to put him in long trousers? If anything, she would like to wear the trousers (her words not mine). And Prada is so last year, dahhling. These days, Primark rules.
I am intrigued by something I have just heard about a certain Celebrity Farmer who thought he had bagged a bargain in the local upmarket bed shop. Picture the bed scene in the Marx Brothers' Big Store. A mahogany sleigh bed (or should that be s-lay) had been reduced from an amazing £1,200 to just £900, or something like that. Celebrity Farmer nearly bounced on it like a trampoline he was so happy. However, he failed to see the extra zero on the end. The bed was over nine grand. Nine grand! You could buy a field for that and still have room for a cow and calf.
Mr Loggins wants everyone to know he has got a weird middle finger. He says it is gout but I think Mr Grigg may have accidently hit it with a lump hammer over the weekend.
Nobby has put me and Mrs Bancroft on his B list for funny emails after the two of us complained about the salacious content. So now I have to get Mr Grigg to read them out instead as he is still on Nobby's A list.
If there is an electrician out there reading this, can he please turn out the lights in Newton Abbot? This was a place Curious Girl will tell you I once famously described as The Boil on the World's Bottom. But that was 30 years ago. Has it healed up yet, or been lanced? Let me know, Sparky Mark, I would love to hear.
That's about it
Love Maddie x
We rounded off the weekend with the most superb piece of venison I have ever tasted. The haunch was supplied by one of my colleagues from the Death Star and not only was it beautiful to eat, it was also very cheap. Which always helps. I cooked it in the Aga atop roasted root vegetables and with a lemon and rosemary marinade, mingled with beef stock. The meat was so succulent, I may never watch the film Bambi again without thinking about it. Had I known when I first watched that film how good venison tasted, I probably wouldn't have cried when Bambi's mother got shot.
The nymph could do with a bit more clothing. Maybe a hat or something. I am not sure if Lady Friend realises the initiation ceremony she will have to go through before moving in. It involves sneaking out at night wearing only shorts, wellies and a small top and being photographed with the nymph. Just like Mr Loggins did last year. Maybe she could put Mr St John's shorts on the nymph. But I stand corrected by Lady Friend. She wishes to make it clear she is very keen on Mr St John's legs and why would she want to put him in long trousers? If anything, she would like to wear the trousers (her words not mine). And Prada is so last year, dahhling. These days, Primark rules.I am intrigued by something I have just heard about a certain Celebrity Farmer who thought he had bagged a bargain in the local upmarket bed shop. Picture the bed scene in the Marx Brothers' Big Store. A mahogany sleigh bed (or should that be s-lay) had been reduced from an amazing £1,200 to just £900, or something like that. Celebrity Farmer nearly bounced on it like a trampoline he was so happy. However, he failed to see the extra zero on the end. The bed was over nine grand. Nine grand! You could buy a field for that and still have room for a cow and calf.
Mr Loggins wants everyone to know he has got a weird middle finger. He says it is gout but I think Mr Grigg may have accidently hit it with a lump hammer over the weekend.
Nobby has put me and Mrs Bancroft on his B list for funny emails after the two of us complained about the salacious content. So now I have to get Mr Grigg to read them out instead as he is still on Nobby's A list.
If there is an electrician out there reading this, can he please turn out the lights in Newton Abbot? This was a place Curious Girl will tell you I once famously described as The Boil on the World's Bottom. But that was 30 years ago. Has it healed up yet, or been lanced? Let me know, Sparky Mark, I would love to hear.
That's about it
Love Maddie x
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