I got my redundant PCR test very early this morning and came home to make guacamole, spiced sweet potato soup and sourdough bread.
I also popped to Lidl where I bought a set of acrylic paints and an electric pepper grinder ( like you do) and I then watched the end of the 1957 epic The Pride And The Passion on the couch where I fell asleep and dreamt of Auntie Betty’s incredible bosoms
The first bosoms I ever saw up close and personal.
Now I have to share here, that I always think of Auntie Betty when I see Sophia Loren in her hey day .
Not that Betty looked anything like Ms Loren, she didn’t, She was a tall Jewish matron, with a deep rasping laugh that sounded as though she chain smoked Cuban cigars for years and I’m sure she didn’t have one Italian bone in her body but to me as a very small boy, she was an exotic, sexual, incredibly loud larger-than-life character who once, when very drunk, got stuck up a child’s slide with her cleavage rammed full of melting Dairy Milk chocolate buttons.
Now, explaining just how and why Aunty Betty got stuck up the slide in the first place would take too long to explain, especially as I don’t really remember just how the whole packet of buttons became wedged between the most phenomenal pair of boobs ,which were pushed up and out like two pale chocolate covered melons by the constraints of a 1970 sheath dress hiked up by two metal slide handles.
It was quite a sight for any small boy to juggle with to be sure , let alone one of confused sexuality, but not only did I recognise the sexuality of the situation but also of the bizarre humour of it all and I remember clearly collapsing into tearful laughter as Betty bellowed at her predicament and the rather all too eager men at the house party tried to carefully prise her free
