A Star in a reasonably priced Barrow

Well it was bound to happen eventually, after many years sterling service the Poohtruck, or to give it another name, the Orange Wheelbarrow sighed and collapsed halfway up the field, never to be trundled again.. This, however gave me a great opportunity to buy a new, updated model .I tripped happily off down to Mole Valley ( a shop not a place) to peruse the latest models having done my customary amount of research online prior to purchase (none)

Their averagely appointed showroom ( a yard in the rain) showed off their extensive range. First up was the TWB-250 a right hefty article which was rebuffed on it's weight to pooh ratio (and it's £209 price tag - for that price I would want someone to push it for me). Next up was the Garden Twin Galvanised, which had sleek silver lines but sadly, the handling on tight bends left something to be desired. The Bordeaux Integral boasted a "High Quality European Style Pan " -honestly, but was also passed over owing to it being a bit of a hairdresser's barrow. Eventually I test pushed the Harmmerlin Polypropylene model on the skid pan and after kicking the wheel a couple of times chose to buy one in British Racing Green

.                                                 Beautiful chassis, only one careful owner


Replacing the Killer Kitties was always going to be difficult but I was surprised by how quickly we have been adopted by CF the cat. He has quickly taken up residence on the hay and has got us nicely into the routine of feeding him. He waits at the top of the ramp by the stables and even taps his feline Rolex if he thinks we are late. His name ? I asked one of the neighbours about that and she replied "Oh that Cookin Fat" or at least I think that was what she said.

                                      "Don't call me Felix or Mr Whiskers, I'm tough, right ?"


Downton was a delight again on Sunday. It is truly  where the unfeasable is considered commonplace. This week the sad old mate of Carson the butler was visited by the hopeless Scottish doctor who opined that only finding employment would cure him of his many illnesses. And ,amazingly, in a denouement to gladden Jeremy Hunt's heart ,if he has one, he was next seen at the Railway Station on his way to a new job, without a trace of a cough or limp. The Jock Doc was behind him on the platform  seeing  him off whilst performing a highland fling of honour shouting " I finally got a diagnosis right yipeeee"

A serious accident nearly occurred during a particularly tender scene between Lord Grantham's other daughter, the one whose name no one can remember

                                                      Emily ? Agnes ? Kylie ?

and her elegantly coiffured swain . Having modestly flirted over the coffee cups and despite their relationship having DOOMED written all over it , she coyly placed a chaste hand on his  trembling knee trilling "I know it's hard darling..." I missed the rest of the sentence as H woofed half a pint of Sauvignon Blanc across the room.