Saturday, November 09, 2013
I hear one of your walnut trees has blown down in the storm. This is a sign from God: even so, he is blowing down the Church of England, and especially that awful little man Justin. Justin! What a name.
Would you like to come for tea, some time?
I am told that one of those dear walnut trees has blown down. It reminds me: I had an old maiden aunt with a dressing table made from walnut veneer. At least, we thought it was veneer, until one Bonfire Night, for a wheeze, we threw my aunt on the bonfire as the 'Guy' - and she took forever to burn, so perhaps she was made from solid walnut?
Do you intend to castrate your new dog? If not, my daughter would be interested in using him for breeding.
Do you hunt, or are you a Liberal Democrat? I realise you aren't married, but I could find a horse for you if you would like. Coming from the north I expect you're quite handy with a gun, so you will join our New Year Shoot, won't you?
And my replies (in reverse order):
Dear Sir ... ... MP,
I am afraid I will be away at New Year. Perhaps another time?
Sadly for your daughter's spaniels, Harry is not long to be entire. But thank you for putting this thought in my mind.
Bonfire Night does bring back memories, does it not? I had an uncle whose neck was solid brass, I swear.
I would be delighted to come for tea.