Appeal for help from Your Vicar .

Brussels Sprout crises as farmers harvest too few.

There is a grave crisis now which we must face without fear and without reserve we as a people are now facing a Brussels Sprout shortage a threat that it is only possible to be terrified of. However now is the time when we must be at our bravest and seek help in our despair. Is it to much to ask of you to be lenient with your Brussels sprouts? No but there is one thing we can do as a people we must rally around to sign our names to a petition urging our government to declare this a national emergency because there is little good in what we are facing now at its best we will have fewer Brussels Sprouts and at worst we are facing a breakdown of all of our moral, cultural, political, and social boundaries we must act now before the whole moral fibre of our age is eroded that is why I plead and implore you to go and sign the petition put your name on the exquisite hand dotted (by my wife) lines as Mrs Nito social hub of our little village has so recently done with her fair and may I say lovely hands in her beautiful handmade gloves now it is your turn to do the same. This is not to say that you can use Mrs Nito’s lovely hands to sign as she can only use them for one signature you will have to use your own hands as my fair wife did some days ago.
Remember that if you do decide to sign my petition you will later be able to tell your grandchildren all about the day you saved England from a famine.
I find I must go now I hear my wife screaming in the kitchen and I suspect she may have burnt my dinner again but to all of you who read my article and to all those who have not yet to discover the cutting sprout parish news remember if you can my words and take them to your heart.
Yours truly, the Vicar

I have been thinking.

Since I met Mary and arranged to meet for the seance I have been thinking about my darling Woger. And as I struggled into the washroom I noticed his lovely gift sitting by the window. Some of Moonys gin bottles were in it but it was still a touching sight.

It took me a long time to work out how to operate it, true it was on the cutting edge of technology but.... I once tried washing Bramwell in it, the poor dear. I hope that he has forgotten the ordeal. Ohh well ....

Ida has a new friend...

Since Henny and Charlie have moved in we've quite got used to new faces in the village. Still I was surprised when I popped into Ida's cottage today to deliver her a new recipe plum and sprout cake and found an odd looking young woman sitting amongst the cats by her fire place and with her tea cup suspended in mid air. I knew at once from her dress and her face that she must be one of big Charlie's kids. I didn't know why Ida had invited her round until the dear girl announced "You have seen ectoplasm underwear, I would be so delighted if you let me put it in my book. I often wonder is the ether looking for spirits to help me in my healing but I have never been able to summon up under garments." A little more enquiry and I discovered that Mary (her name, Charlie's kids seem to have such repetative names!) was a faith healer. "I could restore Grandpapa to health but he does not trust the spirits". Moony who had come with me muttered "Ohh he did at christmas, Trusted in The famous Grouse a bit too much !!!!" I gave Moony a little kick as Ida and Mary were offering to give me a free seance and table lifting. I didn't think that a table lifting sounded very special. I lift the card table whenever we have a bridge party and I am not one iota closer to the spirits. But Ida is an old friend so I agreed to let her try to lift anything she liked. I hadn't noticed Mary trying to lay hands on Moony. "I cure your problem, the love of alcohol.... Ohh it will bring you to grief ..." Of course Moony didn't want to be cured I thought that Mary was in a trance until I noticed that Moony had knocked her unconcious. I grabbed Moony, promised that we would be back for the seance in the evening and bundled out of the door whilst Ida laid hands on Mary to cure any concussion. How embarassing! Tonight I may not bring Moony.

Duke of Kendal ...

Moony and I were having a lovely quiet read yesterday evening when I heard giggles again .This time a blond child was sitting in my sprout patch pulling them off the stalks . Moony stormed out and lifted the little dear by the ear ...he started to shout "I'm The Duke of kendal" at which point Moony shouted "I'm the Queen of Egypt , stick that in your pipe and smoke it" . "Dad won't let me 'ave a pipe Mrs so I knicks me uncle Charles' ". Moony stomped off to Henny's where an ashen faced Henny took the horror in . The next thing we heard was a lot of swearing in French between James and his dear Mama .Harlot Harley jogged past in her lycra and winked at James as he came out ...oh dear I can see trouble ahead for poor Henny and Im , Milord and Charles . I suppose having three Grandpas is a help at least .

Broken glass and hearts...

I have recovered from the incident with the help of Moony and dear Henny . I can't tell you how shattered my nerves were dear readers , not to mention my lovely casement window. This is what happened .I rushed out of the study to find broken glass all over the living room floor. I saw a small face at the window and heard dear Charles berating some child. I crouched nervously by the window and heard "James , James , Mary , Charlotte , Charles , Catherine , Anne, Charles , Henry , Charlotte , George , Barbara , Charles , James , Charles , Mary , Elizabeth you will knock and apologise to Mrs Nito this instant !". I thought he must have James's Primary school class with him .As it turns out those are his son Charles's children ( needless to say not all one Mama). I could not bear the thought of the little "darlings" in my house so pretended I wasn't in . Shortly after a glass-fitter arrived followed by Charles very worried and banging hard on my door . I flung it open to find his face redder than normal and him apologising like a mad thing. He rushed in asking for a broom then remembered he didn't know how to use one. A loud voice shouted "Pater what have me liitle darlings done now"? In came big Charlie and made amends by tidying and teasing me in a most flirtitious manner I must say ( no wonder the girlies go for him). The next day Henny came over with flowers , chocolates and a card drawn by the beasties with very bad spelling ( it was large as there are so many of them ). Charles asked me not to tell Nelly about the incident as she had already threatened to drop Charles out of a window if he didn't get a peership ( he is The Earl of Burford).Those poor parents , what did they do to deserve it !!! James I am told has Charles , Mary , James , Anne , Charles , Edgar , Henrietta , Catherine , Catherine , Isabel , Charles , Elizabeth , Charlotte , James , Louise , Henrietta , James , Henry , Arabella , Catherine and James .My goodness no wonder Henny has that birthday chart on her wall and Mrs Cox says she thought her M.I.L had problems with her husband's brother 's 9 !

Greetings dear readers..

As you know I have been a little busy so Charlie took over . I think he'll be busy for a while as I saw at least three of Young Charles' Children hanging off him at the park today.
I decided to stay at my darling Bramwell's cottage for a few days . His dear friend Boris was quite the charming host . He made fancies for tea ,served me breakfast in bed and knitted with me in the evenings. Bramwell was busy at the shop but I dropped in more than once and bought some lovely new buttons he had in for Moony.He has some enamelled Scarab buttons and a new hand-knit in Kaffe's "Papyrus" pattern for sale. I know Mrs Cox would adore that. Boris has a lovely patch of vegetables at the back but seems to think that vegetables other than sprouts should be grown. It was so lovely to sit and put up my feet without a shout of "gin" resounding in my ears all day . I did miss Moony at night so had a hot water bottle but the smell of all that embalming fluid can be quite awful . Oh , my goodness a window has been smashed ...I hear a Scottish voice shouting and giggles .....I must go and see.

Mrf Cox if out fo fhe can't edit me...

I hate how fhe taketh out my "f" and puteth in "s" . It if obvioufly wong .I know my own language thanketh-you. One had to pop in to fee Mohammed today about that little lie concerning the tea-cupf . He waf very underfanding and faid that it waf none of hif bufineff at all if I had friendf. He did blush and go red , I really hope he doefn't think I would be unfaithfull to
my dear little wife . He haf a lovely wife and fhe waf an arrangement too. I think we make lovely little arrangementf. Well I might be bufy af I have promifed Charlef I'd look after the bratf .I am sure your lovely Mrf Nito will be back foon . Charles R.

The New World .

I had a lovely little note from a Lady Pool this day in the Year of Our Lord 2007 ( don't tell Moony and Nito I realise we are not living in the 1940s) . Mrs Cox has shown me some wonderful pictures of a place called Maryland named after ( sniff) my beloved little wife . Then there are The Carolinas , North and South I believe . They are of course named after yours truly. If it wasn't that the place is a ..cough "Republic" I might move in .Mrs Cox ix a solid Republican but I still remain friends . In fact I am not in the least surprised she is . My "dear" Grand-daughters Mary and Ann were simply awful monarchs .As for the shock of finding out my sister provided the next line.....well I have hardly forgiven Rupert for losing Bristol to Parliament. Oh I know he is a lovely boy and tried his best but I lost my head over it .I must invite the boy over , he spent so long blaming himself for my fate .I think maybe I imposed a tax too far .Mrs Cox says the reformation just swept me away and what came after me was far worse . She is such a dear , for a republican. I do think Henrietta and I should visit this "America" .Maybe you could put us up Lady Pool ?, we only require 50 rooms , 20 servants , 10 carriages ( Limos they seem to be called). I'd stay at that beautiful building in Washington ( oh ..just like that mining town near Newcastle ). If only it wasn't occupied by a rather silly man . Mrs Cox says some very great men have lived there , a Mr Roosevelt she seems very fond of and a Mr Kennedy ( I am sure Henny would like him , a good Catholic I believe). My Palaces have had some fools in occupation , not the least some of my descendants ..er hem ). Charles Rex..."what do you mean Mrs Cox , I sound like a dog"?

Hi Hoo ladies and gentlefolk....

As a religious and hard working woman I never miss a Sunday at Church. Today the vicar had decided to talk about original sin which is one of his favourite topics so a jolly time was had by all. On the way home I passed Charles looking sheepish staring out of his window. I suppose he thought that we would be cross with him for not coming to Church, but Henny has explained about his problems and we all understand. Strangely when I got home I found the house in a terrible state and Moony asleep on the floor of the wine cellar in an even worse one. Church must have heightened my connection to the other side because I was sure that I smelt Woger's tobacco all through the house. His own blend, strong shag. Strangely I even found a pair of Wolsey winter warm thermals hung over the banister rail. So like the ones I brought for Woger on the occassion of our third anniversary. I was quite touched. A little sign that all is at one in the universe from our creator Humm?

My leg is playing up so ....

I couldn't go to Church this morning ( I had ricketts as a bairn and sometimes I still suffer). So Henny went off with Mrs O'Leary to the little Catholic Church at Purple Sprouting and I stayed at home. The paper was full rrrrrrrubish as usual , those Prime Ministers and other such nonsense and not enough about that nice Elizabeth. So I got my binoculars out and sat in the window. Moony ( being a Pagan ) had waved off Mrs Nito to our little churrrrrrrrrrrrrrch .It wasn't very long when Wodger arrived and I noticed the curtains upstairs were pulled ( not the only thing). Wodger left and Ahmed from the Antiques shop arrived , no scandal alas as he seemed to be collecting artifacts ( probably to pay her drinks bill). Some of those awful kids that hang about called things through our letter box "were gonna half your head off " for instance . I swear Mr. Misery puts them up to it .Shortly after I'd made myself a cuppa a knock at the door and Mrs Lockett stood there , "your little wife in then"? . I told her no and she barged past me and took a seat on the couch throwing off her coat and hitching up her skirt . "Oh I love what you've done to your 'air lovey ,red's me favourite and so soft ain't it " . Luckily I heard the key in the back-door and James came in ( having got interested in an experiment he'd forgotton Mass). I have never been so glad to see the boy. "Alright" Pa he said looking hard at the awful woman .
He told me he'd been in The Full Moon and Lunatic last week when her and some of her cronies were discussing how I was the best catch to arrive in this village for years .James chuckled and said " must have been sparse times eh pa" . I am not sure that was a compliment but then I heard that lovely "yo-hooooooo cheri c'est moi " .Henny gave me a big hug and then noticed two tea-cups . I am no good at lying but couldn't bear to have her get the wrong idea so I lied and said Mo ( as we call Mr Ahmed) had popped in ( I must warn him tomorrow).

Salutations Peasants....

Hello my loyal subjects ( not YOU Cromie!), I Charles Stuart king of England, Scotland and Ireland have decided to take over Mrs Nito's site whilst she pops to the shops. Since Hen brought me a lovely pair of binoculars I have been watching her little cottage and I'm puzzled. A constant stream of men seem to come and go when she's out, and Mrs Nito must be darn daft. She says her husband left. Well he did but he didnt go very far. He lives just down the road but Hen says. "Doe nout moontion it . She does nit noo!" And another thing the daft bat thinks I'm three men. Now excuse me but how daft do you have to be to look at a picture of me from three different angles and think I'm three men. Well anyway... I finally got to see what the wee abode looked like from the inside at Christmas. Most of it seems to be a shrine to Brussels Sprouts except Moony's bedroom where I had a shifty look when I went to the loo. I don't know if I can describe what she had in there. It might turn your stomach. Anyway I've found something rather exciting at the local shop Dingbat, Wobble and Fryer . I think the lot of them are mad but there you go and they sell the weirdest stuff..... Well here's a picture of it. I brought ten of them. One for me, one for Henny and enough for the kids. So easy to get the perm I always dreamed of....

My darling baby boy....

Of course there came a moment in our marriage when Woger and I decided we had to make our little family complete. I decided that we'd adopt and so we popped along to the Orpanage. For some reason we took my old friend Moony along with us despite her lack of any maternal instinct. All the way there she squawked about what little beggers her kids were and how she'd packed them straight off to boarding school. But I was not detered. When we got there I was amazed that they had no green babies but when I asked matron she gave me an odd look and then brightened. "Ohh there is a child who would be perfect for you. " Moony tells me Woger muttered "What madness " but I don't believe her. Anyway she showed us this little bundle of joy. I was smitten and although Woger said he might be a bit confused as he grew up a bear and we remained "Well I guess Human !" We brought him straight home I was delighted with the little fluffy thing and started work on a lovely nursery (see above). We had our hiccups, I was awfully dissapointed when he wouldnt live on the same diet of just Brussels Sprouts as I do. But he is my baby and where would I be without him? Well I wouldn't have a larder full of cupcakes, I wouldn't have 500 lovely doilies and I wouldn't have got to know his house mate Boris. Mostly I wouldn't be Bramwells mum, Muffy's grandma.

When Woger and I got married we decided we'd love to have a gay little honeymoon....

Now when we popped into Dingbat, Wobble and Fryers we saw this Poster. Woger seemed to think this was the answer to all our problems, after all the couple in on the poster looked so glad to be there, but I was less excited. Now I'd heard that Virginia Waters was a beautiful little spot but it was the hotel to the side of the picture that I was'nt sure about, I'm sorry to say it but I don't think its very well built as the foyer seems to be collapsing in front of them. In the end we decided to go to Artichoke Villas and had a lovely time by the sea the hotel was well built and we got there by motorbike and sidecar. Moony and I always spend our summer holidays there now, I like it but Moony says its a bit dull. Still I shudder to think what that hotels bedrooms would be like....?

Loving Mothers......

As you know I am a loving and devoted mother, so when I saw this on Ebay I had to have the lot. I think I explained on my friend Mrs Cox's dear website that I plan to knit little Bramwell a vest but of course Bramwells just as loving a parent and he refuses unless I make the yarn strech to some lacey, frillys for little Muffy. What a to do but ladies in times of war we make do and mend so Im helping it strech to both of my nearest and dearest with a fun and fresh little lace pattern!

New stall at the market .

After our little chat with Henny we have tried to keep her spirits up .Mooney said we should take the bus to town in Purple Sprouting and buy her some new boots. Her nephew Rupert had told us she used to wear the most exquisite little red ones lined with white fur. As the bus passed our market we noticed a rather gawdy stall , I was a bit slow but Moony had the sense to shout "oh look over there " to Henny who only saw the local church spire but danger was passed.I ,on the other hand, had caught the sight of that awful Nell in a low-cut Gypsy blouse selling oranges ( well citrus friut in general ) . She was bellowing like a fish-wife as I'd expect with several snot-covered brats hanging on her arms . It was so horrible and worse Mr President's car had pulled up and he was chatting merrily with the old trout.
In town we found the perfect boots for Henny even though she takes a child's size .She was so happy and talked about the old days when she'd wear them in the evenings in those drafty old palaces .Luckily the market was closed when we came home. As we arrived at Henny's little cottage we heard cross words in a Scots voice and a deep one with a hint of German ( picked up from his dear cousin ) .Charles was arguing with Charles about having a sense of decency and morality ( wasted words there) . Big Charles stormed out , Mooney winked at him .Henny ran to little Charles and they spoke French as we shuffled our feet . Charles ( ever the gentleman) apologised and invited us to a drop of Scotch to warm us up . He is not one to share his feelings or emotions but Henny fussed over him and he did take a ginger biscuit after much pushing. I fear there will be more family arguments .

Ohh dear new villagers.....

Moony and I always like to begin our day with a nice brisk walk .' No dear I think you'll find that you like to have "a nice brisk walk." I like a little trot to the FULL MOON & LUNATIC. Anyway dears just as we rounded the corner of the village village green Henny rushed up to us waving her little hands in the air. Carried on the breeze I could hear her calling out, "Musses Nuto, Musses Money stoop I wall goe wath yo. I ave tebbile nose .... My son he as cum to luve in ze vollage. Chills is furious! He as brut his stumpet wath im Nelly! I nod your holp! " Kindly samaritans that we are we could'nt begrudge her our help, and as she seemed reluctant to be seen in public, "I doughnut noo whan ze are cumming!" we all ducked into the fullmoon and Lunatic . Over a nice glass of shandy which she seemed to enjoy a little to much. Henny kept looking wistfully over the bar at the vodka bottle, But then again so did Moony. Henny poured out her difficult family story, how twisted. It seems both of her boys are in Moonys words "After any old bit of skirt going " It also seems that as a result Henny has a lot of Grandchildren. "Petite Bastars!" When I told Henny that this was a very out of date way to refer to the poor mites, it was'nt their fault after all but Henny snorted. "I don't mon zat kind. Ze are just Dedful. Anne is Ze wust ! And I am nut sur abot ze Duke Ouef Monmouth! He as ze shufftey ayes " I'm afraid that I thought that this was an awfully pretentious name for a small child and no doubt half the problem . But I'm all for family harmony so we told Henny that we'd come and see her Son with her. Moony nodded wildly and I began to doubt her motives. Henny seemed very relived, " You wall holp me sue moch. Chills he as nut spoken toe Chills for sue loooong !" I was a bit puzzeled surely its a good thing that he does not speak to himself ? I asked Henny and she looked blank for a long time and then said "noo Our son is culled Chills!" How original . Some hours later Henny burst into our little abode whilst Bramwell and I were doing our church flower arrangements. Moony had passed out on the lawn so she knew we were in. "Ze are ear !" I whipped off me pinny, Bramwell initially puzzled but after a few moments became intrigued and after wrestling Muffy into her stylish little fur trimmed coat and bonnet went to poke his aunt awake with a broom (it has to be done she can be vicious when shes drunk). It was a bit of a squash pottling down to the new council houses in our little Austin, Henny stayed well down beneath the car seats and Moony stayed slumped on Bramwells shoulder telling him he was her favourite nephew until he informed her that he was her only nephew and she burst into tears. We pulled up outside a rather nasty mock Tudor house. Children hung out of the windows and a sluttish looking woman in lycra leggings and a very low cut blouse screamed at them to. "GET IN YOU LITTLE BASTARDS !" I noticed a rather older man in odd bloomers which I thought were rather odd. I was even more surprised when he rushed at Henny and picked her up saying "Hallo Ma !" No wonder Hennys kept so quiet about her family before. Moony leered chirpily at him then passed out again over the back seat. Thank-goodness we didn't let her drive this time. The tatty looking woman introduced herself as Nelly and asked if we'd like a cup of tea. I couldnt say that we did but it seemed rude to say no. After seeing their house inside I thought Moony had taste. Everything was gold or quite clearly from certain shopping channels and I was fair scandalised by the painting of Nelly in the living room, Bramwell covered Muffys eyes. She may be a dog but she is very sensitive. The tea cups were just dreadful naff little Versailles prints. I could see why Charles, Him or Milord had'nt come to lend their support as they dare I say it, have excellent taste and excuse me but...Nelly does not. Little Henny kept blushing, everything was so appalling. I tried to talk to Charles but he seemed to only want to talk about the dog and horse races and bless me but as a lady I do not partake of such diversions. Bramwell offered to help them decorate but Nelly screeched " Ohh no love, it is decorated. Well I know your sort have such lovely taste but well you get great deals down the pound shop. Don't you find. Bramwell looked taken aback and as a mother I knew his tone when he answered. "I've never been there. " I decided then was a good time to down my tea. Well all the kids had suddenly rushed to the t.v and popped 'watch with mother' on very loud. We made our goodbyes and scapered with Henny who kept apologising. I don't blame her and maybe deep down they're quite nice but I won't be going back there in a hurry!

Cutting Sprout Museum of antiquities and oddments

As assistant curator of the Cutting Sprout museum I've decided to take a little look back over our sweet little village's history. A little browsing in our gallery of notables with a guide book opened my eyes. Actually I had my eyes open already thats how I managed to get to the museum in the first place. I was rather drawn to an artists impression Sprovtikvs Desolatikvs our Roman town founder, as the guide book explained Sprovtikvs having been captivated by the humble Brassica set out to find a corner of the empire where he could fully indulge his passion for brassicas, in his new settlement of Cutting Sprout amongst the native tribe of Twa-wit he cultivated sprouts and wrote his 200,000 volume history of Brussels sprouts "Gloriovs Veg of Brussels" a text which experts seem oddly unwilling to read (silly fools, I've never been dissapointed by its contents even if volumes 376/ 490 are a little thin on recipes) . I was so taken in fact that I rushed downstairs to examine his famous temple mosaic. Never before have I seen such a hymn of art. Brussels sprout nymphs frolicked gayly in fields just for them. A lovely Brussel sprout Venus floated in the clouds above the town motto. "Ohh Brussels by the grace of the God's Nectar." Ohh glorious man! I felt quite faint with jubilation, I did'nt dare take in the Brussels arch today, just to much excitement!

Village Fete

Hello my dears !
I seem to have been away for a few weeks don't I , helping out Mrs C and Holly. But never fear I'm back now and not a moment too soon. This weekend the Cutting Sprout village hall, had a grand event . The hall was the kind donation of Sir Eppingly Arbathnot-Nut in 1906. Sir Eppingly was a noted eccentric ,with many awards, who insisted his whole life on wearing a single grape pinned to his forelock. But charitable to a fault. He finnally pegged it in the giant sardin tin he had made to replace his fathers blancmange folly (blown away in the notorious "Arn't there a lot of odd things coming out of the sky tonight... Arggghhh" storm of 1899), dressed as a parrot. He has always been sorely missed, I best remember when he opened his charming house to us as a VAD training hospital. He always played patient and he and I got on rather well. Why if it had'nt been for Woger and of Course Lady Samantha Snively Arbathnot-Nut... but I dare say you don't want to hear about that. Anyway it provides a charming backdrop for the annual village fete and scout fundraiser. This year the dear boys were raising money for the church to have a hole in their roof rendering all those new roofs finally useful. Moony and I had decided that we'd raise money for a campaign to enhance awareness of Brussels sprouts in our schools." I beg pardon dear but you decided, and I don't remember agreeing"! WE DECIDED MOONY. Anyway I baked up some perfect little Dropped scones . As I understand you bake them and then drop them a perfect recipe for the careless ! Henny (a new girl to the village) became a touch over excited when we told her about the fete ,squealing "Ohh ey om gitting a noo dress four dis! Nover far I wall mac yar fate goo with a bong !" She seems to have spent much of the rest of the week in Bramwells Dress shop and her son James (now happily taken a post as Cutting Sprout's Berrywood school's Science teacher) was heard making some very odd noises in the shed. When I called on them this Friday I looked in on a very odd scene, Charles , we think it was him was dressed in sprigs of plants with dear Henny prancing around in a fairy costume. I was'nt sure what this might mean but I steeled myself and knocked the door. A minute later the post box was opened from inside and Henny squeeled "Donut lock Mrs Nutto , we are chingging ." Well I certainly did not want to look and I wish I had'nt. When she finally let us in she kept giggling although I have to say Charlie looked thunderous. It seems that Henny had'nt yet found time to bake anything for the fete, however she was very confident that. "I wall be spocially mocking u hoppy . " Whatever that may mean? Still Saturday dawned bright and sharpish, Moony and I wrapped up our baps and scones and headed for the village hall. I tried to ignore Harlot Harley and her husband Roger (where have I seen his face before?) as they pushed something large and wobbly up the hill. I know I'm a better cook than she ever will be and I should'nt have to prove it. As we unpacked we saw nothing of dear little Henny, busy? Surely not! After the vicar gave us his little speech however we began to detect the strains of These are a few of my favourite things on the viola, puzzled we turned to see Charlie looking terribly embarassed standing by the door. But before we could speak the ceiling began to emit odd whinching noises and looking up we spotted Henny as she dropped down resplendant as a shepherdess just breaking into song. To a squeeky "Rwain dwop and woses and girls in wit dresses with pink sotin wobins" Henny crashed into Harlot Harleys cake Harlot sobbed but Hennys a trooper and she pulled herself out still singing and up onto the stage where scenery ( english pastoral ) dropped into place. I was amazed and surprised. Moony however muttered "Bit naff" and oppened her bottle. I think it was sweet.

Excuse me....!

Frightful mix up ladies I seem to have poor Holly's profile I'm sure she'll sort it out.

Cutting Sprout christmas post.

Ernie B. Del-ivered (post man)
I am afraid that my note hear is by way of sorry apology for it seems that on the night of the 27th december I was intrusted to deliver this christmas letter from your dear correspondent Mrs Nito. However I somehow found myself in the FullMoon & Lunatic (our local pub) and in the thrall of the charming Mrs Moony. I neglected to deliver this christmas salutation but all is corrected now I hope.


Mrs Nito
21 Nutting lane
Cutting Sprout
Veggieshire.
Hello my dears'
One and all, like our dear king you will find I make my annual Christmas address unlike the king I however can not command the powers of wireless and television to address, alas. Instead now I seat myself here at my desk on this charming Boxing day, Moony has nipped out and when I took a look at her receding figure outlined so clearly against the snow she seemed to be heading in the general direction of the "Public house", so we won't be seeing her for a while and the last of the turkey has been worked into a charming recipe of my own I call it "Sprout merrily with meat" and I'm sure that mad I mean merry monarch Henry 8th wound have darn well approved wholeheartedly. Although I do not know how Moony came by a Turkey on the american army base I did not know that they travelled with native wildlife (maybe they get homesick), maybe it had had escaped from a local farm as all our neighbours had to make do with a nasty mixture of goose and goat in jelly.
I will not say that this past Christmas day was in any way, shape or form a disaster and I think you will have noticed that I am that type of resourceful lady who can seize victory from the teeth of disaster faster than you can say "sprout thank you at a dinner party". The evening of christmas eve was as ever spent at the Cutting Sprout village players nativity. It is fortunate that the local paper does not run reviews as more than one amature thespians dreams of fame would almost certainly have been shattered. Between you and I, I had no idea that Mary had any musical numbers but dear Henny seems to think there were and we must humour her (she has had such a hard life poor dear, but I am sorry to say that it seems that whichever of her husbands she brought with her fell asleep and had to be prodded by myself or rather by my umbrella.) Then we had the bliss of sherry and cocktails at the vicars and all felt rather wild with our gin slings(in Moonys case slung all over the place). Charles had to be dragged home after he began to sing Danny Boy, weep loudly and declare his un-dying love for the Vicars wife who went quite pale and began to wack him with her mothers silver tea tray more damage to him than the tray.I think DR De-ath had to be sent for but never fear paracetamol a good nights sleep sorted him out. Moony and I finally left after Lord Arbathnot suggested we play Cluedo, well we're on to you my dear! The next Morning I awoke to find a misshapen stocking at the end of my bed and a misshapen Moony at the end of it but once she'd woken up she showed me what I'd got for christmas. Well my dears I must say I was rather touched by Moonys thoughtful little gift. Some tickets for a lovely ariel tour of Belgiums Brussels sprout growing fields, a big improvement on last years gift ( big bright red wool socks full of minature Teachers whiskey bottles -all empty-). I was not impressed at the time and this year I dropped some really heavy hints about how Woger always gave me something very "now" and very special. Like a washing Machine and chocolates (pity I didn't remembered to take them out before I put on the washing, at first I thought the results were rather poor with this new technology). I gave her something I thought she could really use membership of the AA I don't think she really got the right end of the stick, when I gave it to her she remarked. "Ohh how lovely I'll never have to worry about the car breaking down again!" At the time I wondered I this might be one of her drinking "triggers" and made sympathetic noises'. I recieved such a lovely gift from my little Bramwell, why I almost cried, delicate emerald silk beaded gloves. The dear little mite! Moony unwrapped the six liter bottle of Brandy Henny left for her and staggered to her armchair to enjoy the kind of Christmas she lives for, whilst I slipped into the kitchen to prepare the turkey and more in importantly the Brussels Sprouts (Christmas is special for me, everyone has to eat Sprouts WHETHER THEY WANT TO OR NOT!) The screech of brakes roused me from my merry stuffing and horror of horrors when I looked up and beheld Neff heading for the door, Chauffer and dogs in tow. Moony took one look and went to hide in the cupboard under the stairs, I of course was left to let her and her entourage in. Perfum and ciggarette smoke hung in the air like a lead weight,Bunny (Moonys jackle actually passed out and spent several minutes twitching on the floor). Neff discovered Moony when she went to put her coat away and Moony quickly lied that she just loved reading the meter. Of course Neff didn't belive a word of it, I saw her face! She took over our spare bedroom and in a few brief minutes it was transformed into a sun temple and her records' were being played a little to loud, her poodles running a little to wild -with my carpet slippers-. Moony had dissapeared with the Chauffer and Neff was soaking in the tub when Bramwell turned up carrying dear sweet muffy, his sky terrier who showed her nasty side laying into the poodle with gusto in spite of her frilly hand made gingham Dorothy dress (I may have cheered at this point but I had every justification). I think Bramwell was a little shocked by this sudden savagery but he collected himself to whip out his meringues, from the car boot. If only Harlot Harley could have seen them, light as air unlike hers which are dare I say a little heavy and rock like. He was such a help to me laying out the table with little green napkins he'd folded to resemble Christmas trees' and I for one love the colour green. We were all a little surprised when MiLord and Henny blew in, MiLord was wearing huge dark glasses and complained about his head when he heard Neff's music but after while he and she seemed to be getting on really well something to do with juggling the pressures of being a monarch and a God. We were just pleased that Neff was kept occupied, she loves the attention of a nice young man.
Post to be continued.