Garden, Gig And Greek Gags

Strange things are afoot in the gardens of Sleepy Mansions.
One of the apple trees has suddenly declared itself as something totally different.
It is, in fact, some kind of ‘plum’ tree. When I saw the budding fruit on it I realised that I’d never seen an apple on it at all!
Which is a bit sad after nearly four years.
The serious ‘trim’ it had has kick started something.

Tomorrow I am off to London to see Rodrigo y Gabriella at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire.
The Big little brother sorted the tickets out ages ago and it’s come round really fast.
We are making a day of it, starting with lunch in Covent Garden. There is a blinding Mexican that sells Margarita’s by the jug that I‘m determined to get to.
Crisp-e has recommended Belgo’s for their selection of beers and garden area.

Sassy came round for football and booze.
Neither of us were particularly taken with the game, although there was some hope for about 3 minutes.
The best bit of the whole build up was some reporter from the evening news talking to Scousers out there for the match.
The two she had managed to get hold of were wearing laurel leaves around their heads and sporting bright red toga affairs.
“What brought this about?” she said, gesturing at their attire.
“His Mam really” says one
“Yeah, she owns a florist and suggested the headgear” said the other.
“Then we thought we’d just wear the lot. Less luggage!”
“Where are you keeping your passport?” said the half chuckling reporter.
They looked at each other through pissed up eyes, and one replied, looking downwards,
“Somewhere near the Acropolis!”
They then fell about laughing as the bemused reporter handed, swiftly, back to the studio.
Brilliant!

Happy Birthday to the nephew H.
“16! Big Boy! And I’m out for fun,” as the song says.
Love and miss you mate.