Day Twenty Two

Furrgus

Well Mrs T got home safe and sound.  

Which we hope will put an end to the endless reliance on that microwave machine. 

But since it was the end of a long day they all went to their beds early and we settled down until the 1 am patrol. 

Mrs. T was up early again as she had lots of work on her schedule today. As is usual. 

And not only is today an Election Day around here, and tomorrow will be Saint Crispens day.

So it is time for a brunch of new scoundrels or practice ones archery, preferably both. 

We had another quite spectacular day for the election.

But let me tell you there is a lot to be said for an hereditary monarchy you know. 

Kept in check by the occasional fruitful assassination, mind you. 

This morning when Mrs.T unpacked she found the presents for the family. 

She and Mrs. Susan stumbled upon a wayside fair in Petty Harbour while trying to park their car. 

Right in the church’s parking lot. So they loaded up with lots of presents. 

And oh my goodness they found oatcakes. Oatcakes.

Real oatcakes made with partridge berries, dipped in chocolate. Heaven help us.

Thank God Mr. T is a gentleman and he shared them with us. 

It has been many a year since we had home made oatcakes. 

The ones from Harrods stick to the top of you mouth. 

I think they are afraid to use butter in their recipe. They are awful dry things at best, even smothered in Brie. 

And the price of them. Well. 

So we were quite ecstatic with the Petty Harbour offerings, I must say. 

And then we looked and Mrs. T found a Christmas tree decoration.

And lo and behold it was the spitting image of Dugal’s father the Laird. 

Now that caused a bit of a chuckle all around let me tell you. 

Not wanting to leave our Niamh without, Mrs.T found just the perfect knitted hat for Niamh’s afternoon ensemble.

At lunchtime Mr. and Mrs. T went out to exercise their franchise. 

We did not feel they needed an armed escort, as we are not in the Western Isles where this is taken far too seriously. 

That one time Cousin Morag announced that she was going to vote Conservative it took the entire household staff, carrying cudgels to escort her to the pub to vote. 

But then she stood the entire assembly two pints and all was back to normal. Well aside from the bank account. 

Miss Niamh had already dragged the neighbour with her to the polling station to ensure that he voted. Wise idea I say. 

Mrs.T was very busy all day interviewing more people for her office. Ah well. 

A new coat came for our young Niamh. 

But alas it was big enough got two of her. 

So it has to be returned. Such are the trials of fashion leadership I guess. 

And thanks to her, the den now has a stunning pillow to memorialize Miss Poppy.

Well done Miss Niamh. That Miss Poppy loved her pillows. 

This afternoon Niamh is practicing her driving skills again, as her exam is on Thursday. 

Seems like a good idea to us.

Dugal on the other hand worries about her being Over Prepared, as if he actually bothered to take his test.

Granted when he first got his automobile it was the only one in the Isles and there was only one road. 

Well trail was probably a more apt description. But I digress. 

When Zita got home she had new boots. She got another pair of her favourite Bloodstones boots. 

As her old ones were completely worn out. So with winter coming it was time. 

After dinner Mr. And Mrs. T went to watch their detective programs. 

And we found the cards and started our poker game again before it was time for our evening patrols.