Your reference to the 'furry cup' . . .

Perfect Retirement Housing Complex

Inner Hamlet

CORSETTSHIRE  QY4 2PN

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.

Yours

Aunt Agatha 

Assault course at Nether Hoppit . . .

Perfect Retirement Housng Complex

Inner Hamlet

CORSETTSHIRE  QY4 2PN

My Dear Ralph

A rather sodden day has dawned here at the Perfect Retirement Housing Complex pet.  Thus far, I have only peeked out of the front windows to ascertain the status of the Banger 0.9L, and it is in its place, bonnet shining beneath a fine patina of night-time rain.

Yesterday's Tree course was, I must say, characterized by the advent of two singularly unprepared, and not all-that-knowledgeable, teaching staff.  The phrase 'cowboy operation' comes unhesitatingly to mind.  We were informed, upon arrival, that we were required to trek to the campus outskirts to perform a woodland survey.  I do rather feel that it would have helped to have been given the dimensions of this plot before we set out and also some basic instructions on a procedure to follow once we got there - because one can otherwise tend to lope about, on the loose, in the total absence of such requisites.  But what really made me cross dear, was that we were despatched down the sides of what appeared to be a ravine, without so much as a body count being done or any sightings of a first aid box.  There were innumerable trip hazards to be negotiated on our descent and, at the bottom, a cold and fast-flowing rural river.  I'm afraid I rapidly lost sight of the rest of our party during the course of stumbling over any number of rotting logs and, in the absence of any kind of information regarding the time of our re-ascent, had to be summoned by what seemed to be a 'View Halloo' echoing in the distance!  It is lucky I am not deaf pet!  Anything could have happened and I am not absolutely sure that - had I been sucked into a woodland bog and totally vanished from the scene - the 'leaders' of the expedition would even have noticed!
Luckily, the weekend was characterized by activities of a slightly more controlled nature.  Invited out for a drive by the diminutive - and yet muscular - Pumpkin (discovered some weeks ago, sweeping the steps at the local museum)
we found ourselves jaunting past the Assault Course out at Nether Hoppit.  Unravelling ourselves from Pumpkin's miniature motor, we sallied forth to investigate the equipment on display - which was FREE to the actual public, en passant in their conveyances, to leap on!  Well it took us less than a mini-second, eyeballs somewhat extended on stalks, to decide that we couldn't skip this opportunity to try out the timber-framed-and-blue-netted Climbing frame, the Aerial Runway and the Tunnel!  You know pet, I had no idea such challenging pursuits were on offer at rural outposts.  The wooden ladders and blue netting rippled skywards to quite some height I can tell you, and I was a little unnerved when I snagged one high heel in a loop.  And even more unnerved when I detected Pumpkin snapping away on his camera - directly beneath Yours Truly.  I think I was attired in my blue lace knicker set that morning dear and God only knows how this lingerie will be displayed on-screen - and worse - on Headbook if Pumpkin gets his way!
The Aerial Runway was huge fun however, and it was with quite some whoops of pleasure that we sailed  back and forth across the valley and above the pine trees.  If you like pet, we can visit this facility when you are next in the vicinity!
Yours
Aunt Agatha

Secret Service: EPISODE 40

Perfect Retirement Housing Complex

Inner Hamlet

CORSETTSHIRE QY4 2PN

My Dear Ralph

Pom-Pom and I have spent this morning watching the Outskirts Farm 'hencam' and it is most fascinating.  Indeed, the soundtrack of roosters crowing is playing in the background as I write!  If you are feeling stressed or in any way out of sorts pet, I can recommend a few hours viewing of chickens' feathers blowing about in the breeze and sundry scratchings in the dirt.  It is almost like looking through a window into one's very own outside yard.  We were slightly concerned - upon turning on the 'hencam' at 8am this morning and viewing no chickens - that perhaps the birds had been despatched to an abattoir.  However, they did begin their stately walk down the ramp an hour or so later.  We think it might have been too windy for them and that they preferred to huddle in the hen house.  No sightings of a fox so far, but we will be viewing again this afternoon and will report any sign of creepings through the tussocks!
Bertram, who resides along the hall, seems to be in a bit of a standoff with the Management at present.  His wife was despatched at the crematorium some weeks ago, and it transpires that Bertram has been suffering from loneliness of a fairly intimate nature.  Owing to a severe case of bilateral deafness, in association with crippling arthritis, he has been unable to personally communicate his need for supplementary services down the telephone to the Inner Hamlet service provider.  Rumour has it that he then requested the Management to make the necessary phone calls for him - and they declined - informing Bertram that the procurement of supplementary services was outside of their professional brief!  At this point, Bertram - rather foolishly as it turned out - asked his neighbour, Ethel, if she would get on the blower for him.  I don't myself feel that Ethel was a very wise, or discreet, type of person to make this request from, as she is given to trumpeting snippets of a thrilling nature, all about the building.  And this is now Pom-Pom and I got to hear of it, the news blowing as it were, up and down the corridors.  I don't know pet.  If Bertram is compos mentis and able to communicate what are, after all, very natural wishes to the Management, then who are they not to pass the message on?  One does have to be humane dear and I personally have no objection to Bertram being in receipt of weekly visits from a lady done up in stilettos, Sheer Touch stockings and an ultra mini skirt.  I think Pom-Pom and I will have to phone the salon for him, incognito, at the earliest opportunity!  Some people are certainly veritable old miseries aren't they pet?
Yours
Aunt Agatha

Counter-tailing with Dinky toys . . .

Perfect Retirement Housing Complex

Inner Hamlet

CORSETTSHIRE  QY4 2PN

My Dear Ralph

I must say I feel somewhat in the Black Hole this morning pet, owing to a succession of somewhat unfortunate developments.  Firstly, I scratched the door of the Banger 0.9L against someone's stone wall yesterday afternoon, in an attempt to extricate myself from their steeply-sloped drive.  I hadn't intended to visit these individuals dear; I had mistaken their premises for the premises next door!  The actual purpose of my visit was to demonstrate the art of counter-tailing to a new Service trainee, and so it might not have been too advantageous turning up - a few moments after the wall incident - in  a somewhat scuffed conveyance myself!   Anyway, there I was, replete with Dinky toys and a grid map of Bright Litton - willing and able to embark upon an hour of tuition to the young man in question.  I don't know whether you are familiar with counter-tailing procedures yourself pet?  Generally, the target vehicle, X, is followed by three other vehicles: A, B and C.  And, as I said to the trainee, it is generally best if all these motors are of a comparatively nondescript description (minus roof racks) as one obviously does not wish to call attention to oneself, if it can be helped, during a period of spying on the driver in front!  A and B initially drive along behind X and C is pursuing - if possible - a parallel route.  I do feel, myself, that the theory behind all this works best in a city laid out in an actual grid plan, for Bright Litton (being comprised of any number of short cul-de-sacs and winding alleys) is not especially suited to having motor cars proceed, in parallel, for any length of time at a similar speed!  However.  This is as it may be.  One is issued with procedural documents and one must make the best of it.  Vehicles A and B take it in turns to drive off, left and right, behind the target, coming back just behind it, in an alternate manner.  Am I making myself clear dear?  All this is best explained, complete with actual toy cars, and preferably with the odd swig of Vodka and one or two doughnuts to hand!
And then, later on in the same day, I made the mistake of being pleasant to an extremely large gentleman on the bus and, in a fit of what was probably pity, gave him my phone number.   Since then, I have been in receipt of a number of telephone calls which have given me the impression that said individual may be suffering from bipolar disorder and general telephone mania.  Oh dear pet!  I think I may have to swaddle the telephone in a large bathroom towel and pull up the drawbridge somewhat!
Finally, on my way out of the building this morning, I encountered Dip Stick who informed me that the atmosphere amongst residents down in the lounge was distinctly 'vicious' and that her advice was to KEEP WELL CLEAR.  At least this problem has nothing to do with Yours Truly.  I did happen to observe from my window yesterday that this lady was in the process of installing a substantial quantity of new garden ware on to the patio.  With my nose pressed to the glass, I witnessed a large, white, plastic table; four plastic chairs; four large terracotta pots, and some sort of tiled ceramic bench being brought out through the patio doors, and I thought: 'This will upset them!'  And it has dear.  It certainly has!  In fact, I thought I heard Our Leader addressing the owner of said garden ware this morning, and requesting that the white plastic seating set, in particular, be removed from the premises at the earliest opportunity!
Once out of the building pet, I was confronted by the perennial problem of What to Do with Myself for the duration of the morning.  As the onset of drizzle ruled out the possibility of setting out the pansies over at Marilyn's, I presented myself for duty down at the Extinct Mammal Conservation Society.  Today I was given an enormous box of badges to attach to miniature leaflets although no tea was proffered - this may be understandable in light of one or two remarks I may have made about 'scum' last week.  However, I did have a very nice cool glass of water in a clear plastic cup and I must say that it was fascinating listening to the young people chatter on about their hobbies and pursuits of a generally riveting nature.  I myself have never collected photos of naked men with lamp shades covering their features, but I can see that one or two members of the society are very happily thus engaged at the weekend!
Yours
Aunt Agatha

Radio-tagging of residents imminent . . .

Perfect Retirement Housing Complex

Inner Hamlet

CORSETTSHIRE  QY4 2PN

My Dear Ralph

I am not certain I can have got this right pet, but I do believe I observed a notice on the notice board yesterday, which read: 'RADIO-TAGGING OF RESIDENTS IMMINENT' and a shorter questionnaire, beneath, in which one was asked to state a preference for a wrist or ankle 'bracelet.'  I think we may be on the slippery slope dear!  Of course, the Management can get away with practically anything, owing to the elevated position of the notice board and the frequent recourse to very small print.  Many in here don't really seem to see the notice board at all, owing, I think, to being under the near-constant influence of alcohol.  (I believe I can say this with some certainty pet, because the industrial-sized recycling tub kep in the bin point is filled, almost daily, with empty spirits bottles.)  And so I can only think that there may be an element of truth in the notice concerning the radio-tagging of us all!  Intentionally - or unintentionally - a minority of individuals do keep wandering off and poor Dorothy is rumoured to have reached the outskirts of Winchbury-on-the-Hill on her mobility scooter the other week, in a failed bid to escape the premises, if only for the day!  Unfortunately dear, as you know, I do like to venture into the exterior myself - Winceyette nightie parcelled up very small in my handbag - and it will add a level of difficulty to any planned expedition, should my movements be followed by some kind of bleeping dot on the office monitoring equipment!  Perhaps dear Hilary will be able to fix me up with an alternative bracelet - emitting a stronger signal - which I will be able to keep in the china teapot in my room.  Do you think this could be possible pet?  I certainly hope no-one in authority has ever seen that TV programme called 'The Prisoner,' in which escaping inmates from some premises or other were pursued by large white bouncing balls!  It was shown in the 1960's dear and featured that well-known star of the time, Patrick McGoohan.
Today I succeeded in visiting Carpool, subsequent to an invitation by your uncle, Caspar, to visit the industrial museum there.  This is not a destination I myself would have choses dear, but I have been worried for some time about Caspar's consumption of sedative medication.  He routinely reports a milligram intake which I feel would anaesthetize an average-size rhinoceros and so I thought I'd better see him for myself!  Well he did look rather peaky, underneath his docker's cloth cap, worn especially I gather, with our particular destination in mind - and the whites of his eyes appeared distinctly pink.  But I can be diplomatic, as you know pet, and I mentioned none of this as we traipsed around transport exhibits dating from the previous century.  We did see a Carpool 403 type of car which had, apparently, been built using the Legoland style of construction, in 1954, and I was particularly interested in the fact that it altogether lacked door handles - an element of design which made it practically thief-proof at that time.  I certainly wondered how it would have fared in the car park here at Perfect!  I also took advantage of the museum's offer of a trip up a working dock crane and the ascent to the working platform - in an electric platform lift - was most elevating!  It was quite fascinating watching the gentleman operate the controls and lift a very large crate off of the dock at the end of the jib chain.  A number of individuals in our party took advantage of the opportunity to ascend - in a net - to the tip of the jib, in order to grease the jib bearings!  Men do relish this type of activity, I know, but the idea of dipping one's hand into a pot of grease at a height of 30m is unlikely to appeal to a lady wearing plum nail extensions and a rather short skirt!
I hope you are well pet and not getting up to mischief of any kind?  Sometimes I wonder if sundry unfortunate proclivities are running amok amongst the family!
Yours
Aunt Agatha

Extinct Mammal Conservation Society . . .

Perfect Retirement Housing Complex

Inner Hamlet

CORSETTSHIRE  QY4 2PN

My Dear Ralph

I thought I'd rove off down to the Inner Hamlet lock gates this morning pet, and spend a restful few moments casting crusts of bread into the water for the ducks.  I was naturallly disconcerted when, within a few seconds of my arrival at said spot, I noticed an adult swan in obvious difficulties.  Why does no-one else ever turn up on the scene first in these cases dear?  Anyway, there was this bird flailing about in the canal, rolling over and over, whacking its wings on the water, twisting its neck about, and generally looking as if it had got trussed up in some sort of net.  Of course, not being one to yield to one's initial instincts and hasten off in the opposite direction, I obviously phoned Pom-Pom from the phone box stationed on the canal bank, and asked him to find out the number of Outer Hamlet bird reserve.  I also hurried off to Inner Hamlet's wildlife charity shop just down the road. This establishment was, of course, still shut at the rather late hour of 9.30am.  I rapped imperiously on the window dear, because I thought I spotted a rather large employee skulking in the shadows towards the rear, and then put on my best mimed pantomime performance of a person wishing to use a telephone.  Eventually, said individual did approach and open the door.  I immediately explained the problem and she said she would accompany me to the water's edge to study the afflicted bird.  Well we gazed - and we gazed - across the flotilla of swans (approximately 15 in number) and, do you know pet, no symptoms were displayed by any of them.  I felt like a bit of a parrot, I can tell you!  It was at this point that I became aware of a ringing sound emerging from the telephone box and the man from the Outer Hamlet bird reserve was at the end of the hand set.  What a relief!  I described the thrashing swan symptom set and he said, 'Oh, I know what that is.  Your swan has a case of the mute swan feather louse.'  Have you ever heard of this feather louse pet?

I then thought I'd call by and see my chums at the Extinct Mammal Conservation Society.  They were, as ever, delighted to see me (well I think they were pet) and I set to stuffing a few thousand envelopes and generally absorbing the heating and general bonhomie wafting about the premises.  There are one or two concerns, of course dear, about the quality of beverage on offer; I did demur slightly when Monty brought me a paper cup of tea with scum afloat on the top - but then I hail from an era when tea was made with teabags and poured from a pot!  Still, it's the thought that counts, don't you think?  I was also intrigued by Portia's speech extolling the virtues of the new infra-red sensor type of sanitary bin, which they currently have on order in substantial quantities.  Times certainly move on don't they dear?  I can remember a time when one routinely got all mucky pawing at plastic lids in darkened toilet closets.  And, before that, I don't know whether you will recall a contrivance called the 'bunny burner?'  The fumes emerging from the flue of this piece of equipment were altogether on the savoury side, I can tell you.  But none of this will now happen at the Extinct Mammal Conservation Society!  Monty did point out that, unfortunately, the money they were about to spend on saving the lesser-spotted Nutwit had been diverted in the direction of sanitary bin purchase - but one can't have things all ways, can one pet?

Yours

Aunt Agatha'


P.S.  I have hit on a so-far-unique way of publicizing my memoirs by the way dear!  Rather than relying on schemes such as Headbook or Natter (which, actually, I have so far failed to work out how to use) I have printed out 1000 or so laminated business cards.  And, incognito of course, I plan on attaching these to sundry railings and general seating outposts in Bright Litton. I thought green wool, tied with a bow, might be part of my card signature!  With all my decades of experience as an operative, I will certainly be able to spot any CCTV loitering in the vicinity!  What do you think pet?  Will this impart a certain 'je ne sais quoi'  to the situation.  Will I become known as an Agathy!

Penning this somewhat on the hoof . . .

 Perfect Retirement Housing Complex

Inner Hamlet

CORSETTSHIRE QY4 2PN

My Dear Ralph

I am penning this somewhat on the hoof dear (not a practice I customarily engage in, owing to the increased frequency of solecisms I am about to sprinkle herein).

This morning I leaped upon the local bus at 0700 hours - anxious, as usual, to leave the Perfect Retirement Housing Complex as far to the rear of me as humanly possible.  Unfortunately, catching the first bus out does tend to mean that one arrives, chilly, in Bright Litton some time before the actual shops, not to mention public conveniences, are actually open!  Perhaps I should be looking into acquiring one of those geriatric, leg bag, catheters pet - as even the city park appears to be still shut at 0745 . . .  Serendipitously, however, I happened to pass the windows of the Three Star Hotel, behind the windows of which a number of breakfast diners were warmly (as in actual heating) munching upon what looked like scrumptious fare.  And so I sauntered in, up to the actual waiting staff, and enquired about the possibility of supping upon a coffee - despite not being resident at said premises.  Well the young men were quite charming pet and two full cups materialized in a clean, metal, cafetiere.  I was even able to practise my Russian in an ambience of near-total peace and quiet, while eyeing up the delectable feasts being consumed by their wealthier patrons.  At the end of my sojourn at Three Star I did, of course, make a point of finding the two young gentlemen who had been so helpful upon my arrival.  I complimented them on their hospitality, the cleanliness of the general environs, the glowing artwork upon the walls, and the well-presented nature of the repasts I had observed in the process of consumption.  It was worth it dear - the young men positively beamed at me and I have been invited to a re-launch of the brasserie at the end of this month!

And then I set about locating Teen Outfits.  I don't know if I mentioned it at the time dear, but my sister, Constance, sent me a voucher for use at this outlet on my birthday.  I haven't been able - as I would have liked - to forget all about this voucher as said wallet-sized card is bright fluorescent pink in colour. And she will keep enquiring as to what I have actually bought!  I don't know dear.  As you know, with funds being so short in recent times, I have become accustomed to sleuthing round the Starving African Donkey style of shop for clothing befitting one who used to adorn the corridors at Vauxhall Cross.  And these are premises with actual windows and fronts which open on to the street itself - unlike, I must say, Teen Outfits.   Teen Outfits, God help us, is located at the apex of an up-escalator and positively scintillates with white lighting and a super-abundance of mirrors.  And on a myriad of hangers shimmer outfits suited to those sporting a very skinny physique and, doubtless, peach-like complexions.  As you know dear, for Yours Truly, those days are now long since gone.  I actually felt bewildered - not to mention paranoid - at the sight of so many ceiling-high curtains in the changing rooms and wondered if any personnel from Perfect could be shrouded in the metres of material I could see in all directions!  I am not, as you know dear, accustomed to experience the emotion of outright panic - being at my best in the more unusual of circumstances - but, by this stage, I needed to depart forthwith.  But, of course, I still had the voucher!  I don't know what Constance will say (and I hope she doesn't accuse me of rank ingratitude) but I'm afraid I bounded over to the 'Accessories' section and purchased a pair of brown dungarees and ten pairs of mustard yellow tights as the only items I could see which had a level of appeal to a lady of my particular mien. And even then - having paid - I couldn't see a sign which read: EXIT.

Yours (in a state of some distress)

Aunt Agatha

P.S I hope I haven't made any spelling mistakes dear.  I am feeling a little flurried as my time in this city internet cafe is now up!