The factory floor is full of frugal framed fartwork.
Is this futile frippery?
My fickle fingers of fate feel frisky but my flat feet are freezing.
I am fading fast.
Is this faddy fun or a frightful failure?
Feast or famine?
Am I flogging a dead filly?
Should I return to flocculence?
I'm in a flap, folks, so please feel free to flow
with frank feedback in the medium of F.
Fanks for flying by.
Now, who's for a fabulous fondant fancy?
Flipping fads make freaky fortnights!
EE xx
Greetings Ethel,I happily found your blog photo's and all!!I fear someone dropped a little tablet in your tea!!or wound you up then lost the key!Looking forward to more(I think!!)Very best regards Pam.
ReplyDeleteYay, you found me! This blog is my therapy. Please keep popping by, I need a voice of sanity.
DeleteEE xx
I fear no sanity coming from this corner of the planet Ethel....Lovely pictures and I admire your chest if you don't mind...
ReplyDeleteBest wishes
Jenny
Sending mutual chest love. Shall we start a breeding programme in 'case' they become extinct? Little vanity babies...awwww.
DeleteEE xx
Hello, Miss Ethel.
ReplyDeleteIt was lovely of YOU to pop in on me ~ and it has enabled me to pop in on YOU also....My feelings are these.... you get what you put into blogging, so visit as many blogs as you can and leave sweet comments as You do! You will be up and running in no time, my friend!
Sending 'Twinkles' ****** your way.
love Maria x
Thanks for the 'Twinkles', I shall sew them on to my follow button.
DeleteEE xx