Gusty Blusts

and other stories The Weird and Wonderful World of "J"
Approx 194 words | Read time approx 1 - 2 mins

Barking barmpots

Fox's jam cream biscuits

When life’s little leftovers turn up on your doorstep en masse and demand biscuits . . .

IT’S ONE THING having to deal with just one or two of life’s little leftovers when they turn up on the doorstep, but it’s hardly sporting of them to turn up en masse.

Take the other day for example, when for some bizarre and unknown reason, it seemed like every man, woman and assorted ambiguous in-between, along with their animals and dilapidated vehicles, decided what a good idea it would be to descend on the farmstead for an outing . . .

You kind of know you’re onto a loser, particularly when said barmpots are a) not entirely sure why they are there b) not entirely sure where they are let alone why they’re there, but hope it’s something to do with trees, since apparently, (or so you are told), they ‘quite like trees!’ Or c), not entirely sure, but enquire after a nice cup up tea and a biscuit – preferably one of those round ones with jam in the centre and sugar on top . . .

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