Mixed news on the Doily Shed.
Marston Moretaine was out on gardening detail today, and given the job of clearing the brambles that had grown over the shed over the last couple of years. I mean, it was a proper state - blackberries miles up in the air.
So Marston's reckoning if he takes it on with his gloved hands and loppers, it's gonna hurt. But he don't want to use herbicides as he's heard how bad they are for the wildlife.
So yeah. Petrol. Brilliant.
On the bright side, that's a load of souvenir "Euro 96" Doilies that I've not been able to mark down for two decades. Finally I can make an insurance claim. I've checked the policy and the "gross stupidity" clause is definitely in there confirming we're in the clear.
Also the burnt-out brick has a certain charm. I think I might claim it's the remains of a Beaker Temple, destroyed by the evil Celts. Should be worth a few extra pilgrims in years to come.
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