Yes, yes... I'm truly rubbish. Despite my previous lies about posting more often, here we are again heading for an average of one a month or less.
But, y'know - if you have a treat every day it ceases to be a treat,doesn't it?
Anyway, here we go. I thought I'd bore you with an update from the all new Kayessjaykay Manor in the country. As my loyal reader will know from previous posts, the Kayessjaykay clan have moved from their posh West End town flat where we pretended to be all posh and West End, to a fantastic three storey house* in the farthest west suburb, bordering right on the actual countryside. In fact less than two minutes walk from the new house we find fields, trees and rich people. We're still pretending to be all posh and that, the difference is we now wear more green. Not quite tweeds and Barbour jackets yet, but certainly wellies at least. And it smells different. From what I've been told by some of my associates who have been to the country before (some even live there) the delicious aroma we're breathing in is air. Fair enough I think we had air before at the town flat, but this is something new. This apparently is air without carbon monoxide, vaporised industrial chip fat, essence of kebab, pigeon, and pigeon kebab. This air only has air in it,seemingly. Very nice.
And the people are also different, in a good way. They talk. I realise this is not exactly a phenomenon exclusive to the country, people in town did talk as well of course, but this is different. They speak even when I haven't done anything wrong. They wave from their cars even when I'm not stealing their parking space. They talk when they walk past, even if I'm not in their way. This takes a bit of getting used to, and I must admit the first time this happened I did automatically shout sweary words right in their face before stepping pointedly on to the road with a double digit gesture to prove my point. As usual. But as it turns out, this is no longer accepted protocol. And to give her her dues, Elsie took it very well and just smiled before carrying on to the post office for her pension. She realised we were new to the country I think. She's been a very good neighbour since in fact, teaching us in the ways of polite conversation over the garden fence, roadside fish deliveries, and general neighbourly social interaction. It's taking a bit of getting used to, but I think we're getting the hang of it now, and it's fantastic. I'm off to buy a Barbour jacket.

*yes, a loft counts as a storey, in my house. It's all part of the poshness illusion...