Heather Pet is trundling on – June 15th 2015

Heather Pet is trundling on.  They’re moving her down to the stroke ward. Don’t tell Toby there is even such a thing as he’ll be there like a shot. Open Farm Sunday was rubbish at Brookers.  Three people turned up, and one of them was Rex the Sheepdog who ran round in circles for a bit and then sat down and licked himself. However at Berrow Farm, there were fireworks, Kiri te Kanawa singing Ave Maria, bunny girls, a naked barbecue and no dead cows, which made a pleasant change from last year.

So it looks like it’s bye bye Vicky and little Bethany.  Mike’s been relegated to the shed which he is supposed to be clearing out but I think he’s going to do a Julian Assange, bolt the doors and refuse to come out. Roy’s going to have to feed him beans through the knot holes in the wood. In fact maybe Aunty Cardboard could join him and they could make a sort of Laurels without the raffia work.  He had an emotional farewell with Neil and Eddie from the cider club where they all discussed the good old days like when his wife died, he lost an eye and went bankrupt.

Susan was horrified at Jennidarling’s suggestion that they celebrate mike’s leaving iwht ‘some designer beer and a few sandwiches’. Designer beer?  He’s not exactly the designer beer type, is he?  He’s a horny handed son of soil.  Give him a corona and the first thing he’d do is get the lime stuck up his nose.

There was a strange interlude with a home made rat trap which I couldn’t quite fathom but unless the rat trap pops up in a later episode as integral to the culvert plot I am just assuming that was one of those Archers anecdotal cul de sacs we sometimes get led down.  Sometimes listening to the archers is  like talking to someone at a party whose funny stories don’t actually have a point and then you end up saying ‘ so what did happen’ and they say vaguely ‘oh, I don’t know’ and you have to adjust your expression of eager anticipation.  At first I thought, as I am still cointinuing to do, the rat trap will somehow attract SCRuff and he will be found in it and then realised Scruff is gone and I have to let it go.

Unbearable Kate roped poor Phoebe into a terrace cleanse on Tuesday to clear away Testosterone Toby’s purple sprinklings.  Then the statge was set for Unbearable Kate’s house cleanse.  Parparetions for a normal person’s house cleanse involves Cif and a pan scrub but Kate’s featured burning sage twigs to cleanse negative spirits, vodka sprinkled liberally over all areas of contention and cranberry juice and Cystuleve for the morning after if Toby’s going to be there.  It also featured Brian in a dressing gown, a startling sight no doubt, as he was called when Kate’s smudge stick set the alarms off.  The award for most bowel clenchingly embarrassing phrase of the year, already goes to Unbearable Kate shouting “Let’s do some smudging!” I actualy went ‘aaagh’ out loud when she said it.  And I heard it twice and did that both times.    My love for Brian only increased this week firstly when he sniggered and said ‘no danger of that’ when Kate told him to stay away from her vegan ingredients and secondly when we discovered that Brian sits in his bath with red wine listening to the Grand March from Aida. I bet he has little boats that bob around in there with him.

But Toby was not there, following a heavy handed scene in which he got his bottom smacked by Vivat Rex who said if you carry o like this it will be Brighton all over again but as usual we got no more detail than that.  What did he do? Burn the pier down in a ‘larious public school dickhead prank?  Quite why Vivat Rex is going into business with a man he clearly cannot stand and is a source of constant embarassement, even if he is his brother,  I have no idea.

Adenoids is back, and is now on the fete committee.  What can go wrong, with her faultless track record of event organisation?  The first action of the fete committee on adenoids joining the fete committee was to immediately vote to cancel the fete.   Lynda thinks it is defeatist and cannot see the problem in trying to hold the fete on a village green that’s going to look like the Battle of the Somme criss crossed with sewage pipes but she’s always looked on the bright side. Maybe they could play some traiditonal country games like “Name that Smell”  “Who’s up the Culvert?” and “Pin the Blame on Ed Grundy”.

Aunty Cardboard, Hooty Jill and Peggy Woolley went for a joly day out to cher Aunty Cardboard.  It didn’t work overly well as at the Ainty Cardboard could make Timmy Mallet depressed but anyway. She kept going on about wanting a fuschia but not wanting it because there was no point as she didn’t know where she’d beso everyone kept saying ‘so you;’re not sure about the fuschia then Christine?” so I was left shouting yes, fuschia, future, we get it shut up.  At one stage jill said “she can’t go inot the laurels, she’s still so full of life’ which was astonishing as Autny Cardboard has never been full of life. Full of horse hair, tweed and cake, yes, but never full of life.

Charlie rang Adam and invited him over for a quick one on the off chance.  Once again Adam broke the landspeed record trying to get there and then discovered he’d misheard and Charlie actually meant pulled pork as a lunch dish. Charlie needs to make his booty calls a little clearer, I think.

So there we have it.  Bye bye to the interesting, funny, character driven Tuckers, with their distinctive voices and hello to the bland Farebrethren and their dysfunctional sibling relationship ad middle class identifikit RADA accents because we REALLY don’t have nearly enough of them.

The end.