It’s Malcolm’s birthday next week.
Malcolm, as you will know if you’ve been paying attention so far, and read the appropriate post, is Mrs C’s sister Doris’s husband. In Kent.
Mrs C has chosen a card befitting the occasion. It has a bucolic flavour – lots of flowers, two bumble bees and a small lake. With a broken-down farmhouse in the background.
Doris likes flowers. I don’t think Malcolm holds any strong views either way, but that’s beside the point. The important thing is that Doris approves.
I have also chosen a card for Malcolm, but will not be sending it. If I did, I think that Malcolm, a God-fearing man who doesn’t hold with anything vulgar unless it shows the devil in a bad light, would have a fit.
I’m appending an image of the card below and think you’ll see why it might not be to his taste.
Elsewhere in the news, Dave turned up yesterday morning and installed our third – and hopefully final – cistern. I didn’t like to mention it until now in case it leaked, leapt off the wall or in any other way disappointed.
So far nothing has gone wrong. It would appear that, against all the odds, our bathroom saga may have reached its conclusion. If so, we may all have heard the last of Dave – a ship who didn’t so much pass us in the night as hole us beneath the water line, then steam off and leave us for dead.
I don’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed.
In a peculiar way, I think it’s a little bit of each.
Thought for the Day
‘It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to act as a warning to others.’
John Kirinrich (whoever he is)