Whadyasay?

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The Smokinguns are being evicted from their hovel.

Apparently.


A letter has been sent they say. But no letter has arrived. Just a snotty e-mail to Mr Roving Blade. Will find out more when he gets back from faraway shores in the morning.


Do I get my pitchfork? Or hang out the bunting?

Both I think.

Crunchy on the outside and chewy in the middle.



Well well well.......


The funny thing is, 'they' have decided to sell it. This is very funny. Very funny indeed. Now this ol' shack is in a nice enough spot, has a warm 'vibe', if not actually warm radiators, looks kinda cute in a crumbling triffid-coated red brickish kinda way but...... nobody with more than one brain cell is ever actually going to agree to throw money at it. The words bottomless and pit whisper from the damp dark depths of it's cracks and mouseholes. Maniacal laughter echoes up from the dilapidated drains and spill out to grab your ankles if you dare go 'out back'. Sinister swellings and shadows rise up to usher you into its deepest suffocating embrace. They have sent us rosy-cheeked boys in their shiny new suits to survey the decay. We have sent them back ravaged wild-eyed and gibbering madmen.

So I can only imagine the next tenants will be the wrecking ball and his delightful rumbling family. And maybe a neat little line of tiny dollshouses will stand to attention on hard-won tarmac before handkerchiefs of clipped lawn, where once we'd frolicked in the muddiest of puddles surrounded by molehills and rabbit poo.

Maybe it's not so funny for the poor old house itself. And where will all the old ghosts go? Would their footsteps make a sound on fresh laminate flooring or would they be all on the wrong level anyway..... chopping them in half maybe? What will they do with the bats? Will they use all the old beams as charming garden dividers? Would they then feel like they're swaying like they're still attached to an old ship like they do up in the bedrooms. I've always convinced the children that this old boat has stood up to a good 250 years' worth of thunderstorms already and won't lay down and die for this one. How many 'olds' did I slip in there? I can't help it. This place is oooooooooold. Thunderstorms are one thing, the developers army are something else... I can't think who else would take this place on.



And so for us all, a new chapter looms.......


.....looooooms.....



..............looooooooooooooooooooooooms.............




.................................loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooms............