And why not?

I was just on my way to my local Post Office at Brill to send a telegram to Winston Churchill, Prime Minister of the United States of England, when I spotted this sign on a residential door in the village.

It made bile rise in the back of my gullet.  How inappropriate to display this sign in a village!  This is a conservation zone, and an Area of Upstanding Natural Beauteousness (the Chiltern Hills, and my own abode, Raffles, the Home of Fanny Love, of course).

I'd like to know why there are no prostitutes at that address?!  They should be everywhere, especially in a little village like this.  The National Economy depends upon them!  And so does little ole me.  Don't knock them... they keep old trannies (I'm 40 this year, y'er know!) very happy during the winter months.

I went straight back home after sending the telegram (I'm running for local MP for my area, and hoped to rustle up support from the top man himself) and sat down to do some embroidery and crochet-work whilst gently sipping absinthe and sucking a lollipop.

Two bottles of absinthe later, here are my finished works.

 

 



Tomorrow, a beauty therapist is visiting chez moi to perform a new treatment involving snails.  I cannot wait.

Restless fingers and thumbs

Cross-stitch, basket-weaving, knitting, looming, embroidery and sewing... Fanny loves to busy her restless little fingers with Arts and Crafts.    With the arrival of winter, I dusted off my needlework kit and got all creative today, sewing sequins onto a pair of peach swimming trunks and glitter onto the side of vacuum cleaner bags, secreting itching powder berries (plucked from the garden) into lilac pillowcases, and sewing some glacé cherries onto a pair of worn-out slippers to sell for £100.   

The Womens' Institution - a sort of secret society who blow things up with explosives in the village hall - are having a Charity Fundraiser over the weekend, so I busied myself creating some bespoke handcrafted embroidery and sewn pieces to donate for their Winter Bring N' Buy Sale.  Here's one of my creations.  I'm dearly hoping it will grace some elderly ladies' living room wall.

  And here is another.  No! it's not a one-fingered glove.

Known as an "Old Compton Street-inspired 'cock warmer'".  Ideal for winter mornings, particularly if your name is Bob and you drive a milk-float.  I lovingly sewed some itching powder berries - or rosehips - into the end.

  
My poodle, Mr P, is moulting fur so badly, I've swept the floor and gathered up enough dog-hair to knit a cardigan.   Did you know I spent three of my formative years studying at the Doberman School of Fine Art in Düsseldorf?

Just as I was about to begin feather-stitching a French lace doily with glacé cherries, the doorbell rang and I flung the door open to find a furniture delivery man with a clipboard.  "Oh yes, that's right, I'd forgot" I murmured, "the new furniture... bring it all in".  On a whimsy, I had ordered a new collection of furniture from a daring Parisian designer.  My plans were to invite the Womens' Institution in for tea and rock-cakes and impress them with my taste in furnishings.   It took a while to assemble all the new furniture, but I do think it looks rather wonderful, don't you.  I hope they'll be impressed by it, seeing how they're all asexual.

The S&M Range - classy, simple, unique.  Ideal for showing off to prudes like the W.I.