The reverend Camp

I apologise for the lack of an entry this week. I went to a party on Sunday evening with my friend, Everard. I don't know what they had in that punchbowl but I only had half a glass and I was out for two days. Of course Everard was livid when I came round claiming I'd done it for attention and moaning about how I knew he had wanted to be the one that did the macarena, Mind you I couldn't understand a bit of what he was saying as I can't remember a thing. The last memory I had was walking over to Gladys Allcock and asking if her Fred was still having trouble going through tunnels. He's been in a fowl mood all week, he thinks he's always right and knows what's best. Mind you he has just had his ears pierced.

Anyway, Its been quite a slow week having lost Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday I was as weak as a robin and could hardly raise my head from the pillow. I decided to stay put and catch up with all my old Emmerdale Farm videos. I do still worry for Joe Sugden. By Wednesday evening I had a bit of colour back in my cheeks and decided to go for a stroll to the corner shop for a few essentials, tea, milk, Gypsy Creams and some stickjaw toffee. Thursday morning I'd just sat down with a cup of tea after dipping my nets when the door bell went and it was the Rev. Camp. They've terrible trouble with dry rot coming down through the roof and rising damp coming up through the floor, God only knows what will happen when they meet. The Rev. Camp is holding a bring and buy and was looking for anything I might have lying about. Well I looked upstairs in the spare room where I keep all of the old props and nonsense to see what I had. We found the riding boots I wore in that marvelous dramatic play 'The Reluctant Huntsman', the title was changed when we went on tour to 'The Man Who Wouldn't Mount', plus the snowshoes I wore in 'Three Months Up The Klondyke' and the stuffed ferret that played an important role in 'Gone, Gone And Never Called Me Mother!'