thisisallonewordpress

Hello again… absence has not made the heart any stronger. I have been spending my time consuming bowl after bowl of Kellogg’s Frosties, Breakfast, Lunch and Tea. The diet was recommended to me by my ever absent Godfather who is sadly no longer with us. He has had to move back home after the tax inspectors showed an unhealthy level of interest in the affairs of my parents butcher shop back room. We had a family of Canadians come over for the leaf harvest and my Godfather was snuggled up with them and the feral cats on the floor in the back-room of the shop. We laid down the Chinese rugs that we bought, at good price, form the Russian bounty hunter in the flat above. She is not really a bounty hunter, she is on the run from the German Mafia and the Baptist Church, and she uses it merely as cover. I or my family would never tell a living soul, yourselves excepted, and besides she has enough on her plate what with the constant offers she receives, and accepts, to help locate a Russian con woman wanted by a medium sized Christian organisation and a deadly collection of European gangsters. The rugs gave the place the aura of an opium den, the clouds of poppy smoke hugging the ceiling also helped enforce the feel. This was my Godfathers despicable habit which he had picked up whilst serving in the Polish Navy. The tax inspectors were not interested in all that, they were interested in the family of Canadians who had not paid any cat taxes. They had been snooping around for weeks, pretending to buy meat and eggs and always asking if they could use the bathroom out back. My Father would chase them out with threats of psychological torture if he saw them in the shop again but they always came back, always in disguise with new accents and names but always the same requests for Cumberland sausages and beef shins. My Godfather did not know the real reason for this and my Father certainly was not going to tell him after the drunken fight over an overheated chess game just a year ago. So with his junky sense he fled back to the north Cornwall coast to try and track down his first wife who, rumour had it, had kicked out his third wife from the cottage and was running the village like a despot dictator.