The Battle and the War

Anyone who thought the set-piece punch-up in the New Inn last month was going to bring the fight over Harbinger's headship to a close was in la-la land. All it seems to have done it to kick off the real handbags. Auntie-D isn't so much licking her wounds as rubbing salt into her scorched earth tactics.

We're being treated to impromptu supporter-rallies in the old church, flyers through the doors, a trust meeting every week focussing on editorial policy, regular 'presentations' on legal matters from Doreen's gorgeous lawyer (I suspect this is a ploy to get the male vote - it makes me wonder whether it is right to let men have the vote - I doubt they really understand what's going on, poor things) and a really rather personal campaign against all things Lennier - despite myself I'm impressed. Clearly a talent for vitriol runs in our family.

The rich tapestry of life

All this against the backdrop of matters of great moment at all stratas (stratae? Stratabobbles?) of Tilebury society.

• The bestest- village- in- the- world- ever (medium size category) is being judged next week. Certain crazies can be seen at all hours of the day, picking up litter and chivying untidy-looking dogs and snakes.
• The school fete with all its attendant litter and untidy-looking dogs.
• Some weird church procession which, oddly, the Reverend doesn't seem to approve of (so it must be good). Always attracts a raucous mob from other local villages who spend lots of money in the pubs and drop lots of litter. Deffo going myself - I love a bit of nighttime processing, me - 'specially in cassocks.
• Even weirder art show courtesy of Heather Reedman's gallery. Went last night but didn't really get it. Most of the things I could actually identify seemed pornographic (girl stuff - so no burnished boy-chests to look at). I guess that's because I'm a troglodite. (or a Trollope or maybe a Trilobite - I can never remember which one Miss/Ms/Mr Reedman likes to call me).
• A scratchy-catfight-royal amongst the disappointed luvvers of jilting-Jimbo. I believe 'Star Struck got her bra back evenutally although someone seemed to have cut a few peep-holes in it...
• The ongoing saga of why anyone believes a word Alderman Cornelius says about all his lady friends and why silly Susie is still denying that he's been spreading himself thin (make your own spreading joke here). The only bit of this I don't get is Ma Lennier's involvement - although she tells me she's dumped him now [I have. We all make mistakes. - Ed.]. What on earth could she have seen in a man who sees something in Dried-up Doreen? [No comment. - Ed.]
• The Ship Inn has booked Cold Shoulder as a house-band. Great idea in my view. Once a week I can do a bit of rock. If you're looking to buy a girl a drink - you'll find me there on fridays.
• And they've announced that Queen and Countr-E is coming on BBC3 next month! Cracked Christina Collett's been out with her signs and her droopy husband again.

Parseltongue Post

Finally, I should thank whoever posted a snake through my letterbox. One of my fans I suspect - I've commented before on how encouraging criticism is. But I admit it was a surprise. The snake looked equally surprised - if blinking and flicking your tongue while being trapped in a letterflap by the end or your tail can be called surprise.

Too many things happening, how can I do it all justice? I can't. I'll have a quick lie down instead (on my own - don't be crude).

Love you all.