I have just liberated myself.
Did you ever try to sit on a milking stool the wrong way up?:shock:
In the best possible taste.
No but I considered the implications.
Aunt Phythian Update
Friends I was looking amongst my journals and came across this dated message from someone who obviously knows me and of my aunt, but whose identity at the moment escapes me
28-10-2012, 11:53 AM
Robert, while out walking with my dog this cold bright morning I fell to musing about your Aunt. It must cause great distress not knowing her present circumstances. Not to know whether her fate lay on a plate at a Pigmy party, or trapped in a freight lift in a DIY centre in Milton Keynes. She may be happily ensconced in a bungalow in Bognor, doing The Times Crossword with one hand and writing letters to the editor with the other, (I believed you mentioned she was ambiguous) pointing out inaccuracies in the previous weeks obituaries. She is perhaps living with genteel economy in a hotel in Hastings, singing “Come on Eileen” on Wednesdays Sing for your supper night at the Godwinson Revenge Tavern and Tandoori.
How very dreadful not to know the whereabouts of your esteemed Aunt Phyian, what joy it would bring could you restore her to the bosom of your family. Then I had an epiphany. In these days of the World Wide Web it would surely be possible to track her down. How many Aunts Pthyians can there be. Oh by the way I think Effluvia Faux-Oracle may well have known her, because on perusing her journal, (the bulk of her estate having been left to the Ephemera Society) I found this entry from 1957, “I have received this morning two very fine samples of cloacopapyrologica (unused) sent to me from Papua New Guinea by my good friend Robert’s Aunt Phithyan” Sorry I digress, to return to my epiphany.
Make of it what you will.
PS,
here is a word Mags & a few others may need to look up,
cloacopapyrologica
Is this relevant?
No, not at Face Value.
But Scribbles never had a relevance target.
What about the small print?
:-D:-D Excellent RJ.
Then again she could have been “Eaten in Ethiopia” as was Miss Marple’s Aunt who was a missionary there in the 1930’s.
I still try to force a square peg into a round hole, tell Sweetie on my behalf.
Aunt Phythians fame spread far and wide.
Below is a piece from GRANSNET, whatever that is
Just to put you in the picture, our dear Aunt Phythian will be 100 years of age next month.
She has not enjoyed good health in recent years .
This is due to a rare bronchial reaction to mites.
We think she picked them up from the exhibition long haired Angora rabbits which she kept for so many years. Many of us still have Tam O Shanters made by her with hand spun wool from the spinning wheel of her older sister Agnes .
Her life has been one of unselfish service to the community.
Made even more worthy of congratulations when you consider she had to bring up 17 children, on her own.
7 of them after the early and unfortunate death of her beloved husband Will.
As president and life member of the FARNHAM FAREHAM & FULHAM rabbit club she was an enthusiastic supporter
Always full of fun, she reacted with typical pragmatism when her hair fell out during the war.
The simple answer was typical of her no nonsense attitude to life. She simply trained long haired Peruvian guinea pigs to sit motionless on her head.
No one spotted this harmless deception and you have to give her credit for stopping when she discovered her pets suffered from vertigo.
the devil is in the detail Paul.
That was jolly rude of me my chum.
I was thinking logically, something which us oldsters abandoned in 2012.
One can never stop thinking logically old chap. One just has to accept the parameters on which the logic is based, get updated, once in a while.
Ah-I see a bit of a competition has emerged,in which the provider of the longest multisyllabic single word is presented with a pair of Sweetie’s laciest knic…er…gloves. Yes-I meant gloves! Honest!
Ok…so,I present you with ‘‘Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia’’ which is a medical term for a certain condition and is a word I learned by heart at the age of just twelve summers. To this day,I have no rational explanation why,other than,the word fascinated my young mind…
Twelve summers eh?
Precocious little bugga weren’t you!
Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia.
Thanks for that word Pugster, me lad, its priceless.
Save us all from having to google it & shock with the actual meaning SVP
Oh and , this predeliction towards ladies undies reminds me of that irascible journalist and general misery, John Junor (sic)
quote PASS THE SICK BAG ALICE unquote
Robert be a devil and chuck pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis into the ring. That should cause social phobia or a fit of coughing at least 
My grandaughter, number 5, says that SMILES is the longest word, can you guess why?
I expect PUGSY will attempt to dwarf my efforts, the last time I dared challenge him my ego fell onto my foot and I was in
A & E for 5 hours.
It must be a blokey thing , but a fit of coughing, well coughing on iits own has specific connotations and brings back memories df school medicals (and cold hands)