Squat Clam

Alas, I was to open the extension to the Firbeck Public Baths’ today but the weather seems to have permeated my old lungs and tubes to a most deplorable extent.

Friends have been most kind, many have rallied round with patent specifics. I think it safe to say that I have drunk more possets, neguses, toddies and warming tisanes this week than any other woman of my weight in the county.

The Emeritus Chariman of the Parish Council was even enough of a poppet to lend me his flannel pyjama suit, a thing of beauty in confident vermilion, so I feel quite the thing.


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