In the far north

Greetings from the far north of Blightyville and a very fine day it is here. Although happily in port and thus in range of the old broadband dongle today, by tonight we won’t and as far as I can tell, won’t have access to the t’internet when we’re out. So be it. In some ways of course, it’ll be bliss to be cut off, so to speak.
 
Food here very good. No more to be said about current predicament because if the food’s good, everything’s good.
 
Shock news from 143 (Drunky nuncku’s abode), the down stairs loo, all of 4 foot by four foot and the first of the renovation projects to be started, in August last year, is just about completed and seemingly (the recce scouts  tell me), it looks very beautiful. Crikey, well done Nuncky, long may it continue.
 
My dear old dad, long gone but not forgotten, always used to make me smile with his amdram rendition, delivered with faux Yiddish accent, of the meany’s bleat when approached for funds.
 
"All of my life I give you nothing and now you ask for more"
 
Well dad, I am so guided.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

About allatsea

Sixty year old master-mariner. Absolutely gorgeous. Well wedged.....when compared to a Nairobi street urchin. Sorted, in that I haven't been in court recently. Hopelessly optimistic, terminally disappointed. Good with cats and other fluffy things. No musical talent. Generous to a fault provided it's someone else's round. Political centreist with far right and left viewpoints. A green activist from the hydrocarbon position with nuclear leanings. Averse to avarice but always happy to receive lottery wins, gifts, windfalls, legacies, prizes and wet sloppy kisses.
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