Sunday, October 31, 2010

DSC_0576 [psp] - AnotherLate wedding present baby ferrets from £25
driving over apples
Wife! Where is wife? Twat.
The above was the foundation of a post about a wedding. A garden centre we passed was selling ferrets. The B&B we stayed in was down a farm track, with feral apples cobbling the lane, over which the locals drove. The last is a series of quotes from someone who magnetised assembled jaws and eyebrows with matched polarity. No mention was made above of how to pluralise kir royale; the anglo kir royales, the Franglais kirs royale or the full-blown kirs royales? Or should one just declare them to be sheep and so innumerable? Perhaps the last given the frequency of top-ups; I failed to keep count.

Anyway, two friends married. And I was actually invited. And there were pumpkins and toffee apples* at the reception. I think I approve of my friends.

* Ok, white chocolate apples, but I'm choosing to remember the inspiration, not the rather insipid outcome.

Oh and finding the great outdoors thing still exists was quite good, even if the milkiness of a cow's eye does disturb me.

But all that seems so long ago now, a whole couple of seasons.


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