Miracles

From Facebook Archives

30 July 2025 at 10.52

He brings me coffee and as he's leaving the office pauses to say 

"You'll be glad to know that I'm wearing three - THREE - clean items of clothing."

I notice he has NEW trousers on and comment on that.

"Yes, thanks to the demise of the white ones.  44 inch waist.   

I tried some other 44inch ones in that wardrobe and they didn't come over my thighs."

"As long as the other two clean things aren't socks."

"No; underpants and shirt."

Compo lives.

And a trip to St Oswalds with full carrier bags is in the offing

30 July 2025 at 11.18

Today we shall be mostly shifting bits of spare carpet about.*

Yesterday evening Fester, Thunderthighs and I worked as a team on the loft landing putting back all his boxes of books, my boxes and bags of yarn, the crib Fred (Fester’s father) made for Ferretfingers, and other stuff.

Somehow we managed to use less space; nobody bashed their head on anything and there was no shouting or swearing.

Miracles do happen.

*see yesterday’s blog