"But there is good news yet to hear"
Lady Bracknell ventured this afternoon into the back garden of Bracknell Towers. This is not a task she undertakes very often, the staircase being steep and somewhat treacherous.
But she is happy to report that the object which, from the vantage point of her first floor window, she had taken to be the sad remains of one of the local flock of collared doves, is, in point of fact, merely a somewhat soiled plastic milk bottle.
Lady Bracknell's annual eye test will take place next month.
But she is happy to report that the object which, from the vantage point of her first floor window, she had taken to be the sad remains of one of the local flock of collared doves, is, in point of fact, merely a somewhat soiled plastic milk bottle.
Lady Bracknell's annual eye test will take place next month.
posted by
Lady Bracknell | Tuesday, January 24, 2006
7 Comments:
Is this just an excuse for the good Lady to partake in the purchase of even more posh specs?
Lady Bracknell can only dream of being under the influence of strong spirits these days. Sadly, the imbibing of mother's ruin reacts very badly with her diabetes medication.
She can confirm, however, that even when one knows that the "dead bird" is really a milk bottle, it still looks like a dead bird when viewed from the window of her bed chamber.
Lady Bracknell will wager that Young Master Marmite will not be able to guess what the parcel she received today contained..... ;-)
I trust that her ladyship's spectacle frames are suitably fashion-co-ordinated with her walking sticks. To clash would be most unseemly.
Lady Bracknell can assure her anonymous guest that she takes great care to colour co-ordinate her walking sticks with her spectacle frames.
To do any less would risk disappointing her public....
Those milk bottles are slippery coves, can't trust the blighters, absolute showers, hanging around gardens masquerading as pigeons.
I understand Lady B. I once thought I saw my deceased Uncle crouched below a railway sidling. It turned out to be two upturned crates. Eccentricity is a scourge of us aristocrats y'know?
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