Thursday, 28 June 2012

Your reference to the 'furry cup' . . .

Perfect Retirement Housing Complex
Inner Hamlet

My Dear Ralph
Thank you for your phone call last week pet; it was lovely to hear your resonant tones vibrating down the phone line, although I didn't quite catch your reference to the 'furry cup.'  What did you mean by that again dear?  I'm sorry I have been incommunicado for the past few days, but I have had one or two attacks (not drink-related) and what with those, and a spot of bother with the after-effects of Clear Out, I haven't felt like putting pen to paper.
Subsequent to one or two nights spent spying out of the window to ascertain the status of the Banger 0.9L out in the car park, an 'Important Notice' appeared both on the notice board and inside the lift, here at Perfect.  Reference was made to some inmate or other who was apparently thumping about and deliberately slamming the fire doors in the early hours.  I think said notice may have been referring to me pet!  Indeed, I mentioned this issue to Gertie, who is resident opposite to Yours Truly, and she did look somewhat hangdog - making the excuse that she had reported the roaming resident issue to Our Leader down the blower the other morning.  Apparently, she had thought that Dip Stick had been maliciously slamming fire doors at 2am, in revenge for sundry remarks about her new garden ware stationed outside on the patio.  I put her right, of course, plaintively remarking, 'But Gertie, it was me' - but it was too late by then and, of course, these notices about slamming doors have been up for nearly a week now!
Pom-Pom and I have meanwhile been remarking on the activities of Malcolm, son-in-law to Sock-it-to-Em, next door.  I happened to chance along the hall just as a large, sagging, item encased in opaque polythene was entering this residence.  'Oh,' I said, 'Is your mother-in-law deceased?'  Really pet, it was rather a foolish thing to say as 'the body' was in the process of being transported into, and not out of, the room!  However, Malcolm took my remarks in good part and told me that they'd decided to replace the carpet - and the bed - as his mother-in-law was having one or two long-term problems with her bladder.  I get the impression that the poor man is desperate dear.  He mentioned a large Telecom bill apparently run up by Sock-it-to-Em in the course of phoning sundry chat lines and also that he was planning to chain her TV remote control to her throat, should she mislay it one more time!  He is also having to care for his wife, Mary, who appears to be in the latter stages of Motor Neurone Disease.  Apparently poor Mary fell over while they were trying to extract the wardrobe from the room - in order to instal the carpet - and Malcolm was unable to come to her aid because, of course, the wardrobe was blocking the way.  Even worse, I think he might be interested in me dear, simply as a means of escaping the trials of the above-described set-up!
Relations with Our Leader, meanwhile, seem rather improved and I have just encountered him in the laundry.  Apparently, he and his new girlfriend have taken up bicycle riding!  Resisting the urge to let my lower jaw sag (never having seen Our Leader  perambulate even as far as the local shop)  I congratulated him on his new-found pursuit and assured him that I thought it would do him good.  And it will pet!  As he says, the exercise is excellent for stress relief and I have taken to horticulture for precisely the same reason.
Aunt Agatha 

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