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Thread: Scones
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14th August 2021, 09:55 PM #1GOLD MEMBER
- Join Date
- May 2011
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- Murray Bridge SA
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Scones
Elderly Scot lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite scones wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs.
With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.
Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon the kitchen table were literally hundreds of his favourite scones. Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his devoted Scottish wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in rumpled posture. His aged and withered hand trembled towards a scone at the edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife with a wooden spoon ......
'Bugger off,' she said, 'they're for the funeral.'To grow old is mandatory, growing up is optional.
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14th August 2021, 10:09 PM #2
actually spoke this at my (Scottish) grandads funeral 15 years ago . grandma said ' not true I wouldn't waste my time on scones)
I would love to grow my own food, but I can not find bacon seeds
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15th August 2021, 08:19 AM #3rrich Guest
You can not imagine how much that sounds like my mother!
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