Anyway, here is the thing that I didn't mention the other day. You will, therefore, know little or nothing about what it is, or what it is used for, and - consequently - why Maureen often has that particular satisfied smile on her face on certain days.
But, if you don't know what this thing is, then I may as well just put it back in the drawer. I'm sure that a person of your intelligence, wit and experience* has no need to know of such things, anyway.
Anyway, so what shall we do now, then, eh?
Here we are standing at the very edge of the woods. The recent rain has left the ground very soft, so it is relatively easy to spot the spoor of the feral banjos and wild accordions that still infest these woods, despite the herd of folk singers we bought in, in an attempt to control their numbers. Luckily, there is still little sign of the folk singers actually organising a folk festival as they'd threatened, and we originally feared.
So, for the time being at least there is little danger of any sudden outbreak of Morris Dancing to scare the free-range hairstylists, who have little comprehension of any form of dance that doesn't involve ear-bleeding volume, strobe lights and handbags on the floor.
*And why else would you be here? For this place has little or nothing to offer for those so sadly lacking in such qualities.