Its denoument time.
You will recall a quote from earlier in this years epistle. remember how she painted a picture of her rural idyll:
(yes, we're almost surrounded by trees)
Well, I just let it go as part and parcel of her snobbiness. How she was keen to let everyone know that she lived in an area totally unspoilt by the hand of man, on the edge possibly, of an ancient forest with wild boar running across the plains.
But my dad didn`t let it go. He used to hate the ex-mother-in-law almost as much as I did. I'd often catch him wincing as she used to hold court with her sloppy racism and 'done-it-all' 'seen-it-all' attitude.
Oh no, he didn't let it go. He's an old bugger in his mid 80s now, but he still knows how to use Google Earth.
So he did, using her post code bless him.
And this is what he found:
Well OK, its hardly Snowdonia or the Lake District, but it seems nice enough....
..not for my dad.
..he scrolled down:
and oh LOOK! She lives next to a s
hi
t hole!
That looks like a builders yard lined with skips, or could it be the local council refuse facilty?
Nice one dad.
So when she said
almost surrounded by trees
that would be "almost" apart from the s
h
ityard.
And that, at long last ladies and gents is yer lot for this particular festive newsletter.
