Peace and Quiet

Now my mum is back in her box we can get back to enjoying Shropshire life.

A Shropshire Sigh

The other day my sister-in-law phoned me to say:
“Gary, you and Anne are becoming just like mum and dad”
“Thats not good.” I said.
“No, it's definitely bad.”

Anne gets involved in a lot of things, as is her wont:
WI, walking, gardening and book clubs. I don't.
I sit at home and watch the clouds slide by.

Anne's dad exhales deeply every few minutes.
We've come to calling it the Shropshire sigh
And it seems to be catching. I've even caught
The dog doing it when no-one's watching.

Some bloke's fenced in some fields where Bobby used to run and hunt,
I'm cross about it all day, every day, and it's out of all proportion;
(Though don't go buying a car from this bloke, he's a lying cunt.)

I'm slowly turning into a rural nutter.
I lie in bed at night dreaming of wire cutters.
And the thing that fills me most with dread
Is the thirty years of this before I'm dead.



I was scared of turning into a rural nutter when I wrote that sometime last year. Yesterday I enjoyed the peace and quiet. Looks like job done!



Anne's mum has just phoned and asked me to look up something on the internet for her....

Latex-free underwear...


.