The goats are hiding in the azaleas again, Maureen. I suppose we only have ourselves to blame, after all, what is the point of all that custard when the game is afoot, or at least rapidly progressing down the left shin towards the aforementioned foot.
Still, as they say, we’ll always have Tewksbury. That is if you can remember where you put it.
I may have said all that many, many, times before, but it doesn’t mean that there is nothing new that can be learnt from it; especially if you have an accurate protractor and a decent set of compasses.
Now, never let it be though that I do not always advise you who come here often, to look both ways before crossing an assistant librarian, especially when she has such a firm grasp of your plums. Never again will I quibble about her cross-referencing skills, especially when she is not-so-casually, oiling up the largest of her strap-on accoutrements in such a provocative manner, before firmly insisting I to take a closer look at some of the titles on her lower shelves.
Let’s just say I learnt something quite startling about volumes and the amount I could take in that morning, as well as learning that carrying all those books about makes librarians deceptively strong and able to keep a hold on you even though you feel she has gone as in-depth as you can comfortably manage on that occasion.
Still, in the end – and it very much was – I was still able to walk away afterwards – more or less.