Putting the bin out the alternative morning, I asked the bird who mostly sits on the blockade how he was feeling. That"s the kind of thing my Mum does all the time, and something I mostly cite when revelation her (affectionately, of course) that she"s as eccentric as a fruitcake.
But it wasn"t until I was half-way behind by the kitchen doorway that it struck me what I"d only done. Oh Lord," I wailed to my father Carl. "I"m branch in to my mother."
Of course, my alternative half has been observant most the same for the past twenty years, ever given I supposed his matrimony offer and soon altered - he says - from being honeyed and easy to someone who seems to take wish in whinging him half to death.
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