I proudly show off the new hat Mr Grigg bought me for dog walking. It's pink tweed and lined with grey fake-fur and, more importantly, has the most wonderful ear flaps to keep my lugholes warm.
'That's nothing,' Mr Champage-Charlie says, running to the cupboard under the stairs.
'Oh, Charles,' his wife, Bubble, says. 'Please don't.'
She leans forward, in that conspiratorial Delia-Smith-meets-clear-skinned-pixie way of hers, and explains what Champagne-Charlie is about to model for us. It came from a place in Poland with a name I can't pronounce.
'Wear the fox hat,' Mr Grigg says, as Mr Champage-Charlie comes in with the most hideous fur bonce cover you have ever seen.
'I am,' he says, under a bright red and bushy creation, his nose poking out like a Reynard snout. 'Do you like it?' just as Bubble says: 'I told you where it's from, it's a town in Poland.'
It could only happen here.
That's about it.
Love Maddie x
As I write, it’s a mad scramble to get things done before heading off on the annual weekend trip to North Devon. In years gone by, there w...
Everyone loves a good police drama. And there's one going on right now in the village square outside my window. I'm so excited I...
Once upon a time, when I was fit, I cycled up to the most wonderful place on earth. It's in West Dorset and, when you get to the to...
A friend of mine has run into a spot of bother. He's been quoted in a national newspaper article highlighting the negatives of livi...
Well, back in Blighty and the weather vane is toppling over. When it spins round it's like when Hitchcock met Dali. It's like...