Greetings from the island of wild pensioners.
This today from the Metro:
A terrified pensioner who lost control of her mobility scooter on her way to church was rescued by police 8 km (five miles) away. Eileen Bishop sped away from husband Anthony at up to 12mph after the controls on her scooter jammed. The 87-year-old desperately clung on as she tackled junctions and tight bends before she was picked up by police officers on a busy A-road.
'She just disappeared off the radar; I couldn’t catch up with her,’ said Mr. Bishop, 78. ‘She doesn’t always look where she is going and I was worried she might have rolled the scooter but thankfully she is fine,’ he added.
Mrs. Bishop, from Perranporth, Cornwall, admitted she was not sure what happened. ‘I was half asleep to tell you the truth,’ she said. Police found nothing wrong with her scooter.
The most hilarious thing about this is the map of the full route of her adventure, from leaving her house to where the police managed to stop her. It reads like something out of a Monty Python sketch.
In other news, the wonderful Captain…oops…Major Gaw is back from Cyprus. The evening of eccentric gluttony that I am hosting tomorrow evening is in honour of his safe return. From 6 pm onwards, copious puddings shall be consumed. I have purchased fat strawberries that I will dip in white chocolate. I have also heard rumours of the delicious treats the other party goers are bringing, such as plum crumble, banoffee pie, cheesecake and something called chocolate betty (I don't know quite what it is but apparently it's most delightful).
I promise to post photos of the desserts. Now I must away to the kitchen, to work my magic. Or at least pretend.
The End of the Day
9 hours ago