Take That Peter, You Pumpkin-Munching Bastard

Imagine my pique when Bert told me that my pumpkin plants were being munched by a bloody rabbit. Where is Foxy when you need him?

"Do you want me to shoot him?" Bert said. "Most definitely," I replied. "Then we'll eat the little bastard."

So he did - and we did. And he was yummy.

Love Token Number Nine

There are manythings that a man may be expected to propose at quarter past eleven of an evening. Maybe a cup of tea, or some cocoa, perhaps some stashed away chocolate, maybe some other activity but this?

D'ye want a boiled beetroot? They're still warm.

Wise up! At this time of the night!

I bet Pearlie would like one.

I shouldn't be surprised.

The next day I remark.

I was over in Pearlie's just now.

Oh? Did she mention the boiled beetroot?

She just couldn't stop talking about it she was that made-up. She thinks you're a helluva son. Says she can't wait to go to her club on Tuesday to tell everyone about you boiling her beetroot.

I'm sure.