Gifts

The only thing remaining in the Facebook Archives for today is this gem…

4 April 2023 at 14.47

"Oh f*ckin'ell machine play fair ... F*ckin'ell cat get out of the way ... It's either you or the bloody machine ... bloody Nora"

So like the home life etc.

(Felix turned 18 on Wednesday.)

There have been a couple of conversations this week which may amuse.

There is a major birthday looming over me and many of my friends.

In our weekly phone catch-up Middlesister reported that she had accidently bought the wrong size knickers in Bonne Marche, and they had refused to take them back despite the packet being unopened.

“I should have got 16-18, but there were none so I got the size above, but those are 20-22.”

“I’ll have ‘em” I said.

“You will;  I’ve already put them aside for your birthday.”

On Wednesday evening Mrs Leftfoot and I went to see the wonderful Tim Dalling at Cramlington Folk Club.   

Mrs Leftfoot has been invited to a mutual friend’s best-before-date-birthday-bash and mused

“I’m wondering if I should take a gift … what does she like?  Does she drink?”

“Not in the house, as far as I know.”

“You’ve got a significant birthday coming up too.

I suppose I should get you something.”

I leaned forward and said 

“Seriously?  You’ve seen my house.”

“That’s true.  Shall I come over and take something away?”