Chapter the First
In Which I Plot My Escape.
Step One: Amass a large collection of recipes and file into a binder labeled “Recipes to Make In Future”, thus giving the impression I have absolutely no immediate plans to attempt a skedaddle.
Step Two: Walk upon treadmill every day, thus giving the impression that I have taken all those talks we’ve been having about ‘getting back into shape’ to heart, when in actuality I think it would be nice to have a larger “Escape Wardrobe” {ie: all those old clothes which no longer fit}. Also being able to do better than a 14 minute mile would no doubt somehow benefit my evil plan.
Step Three: Amass a large amount of money somehow and purchase a lovely castle in Scotland, or perhaps Ireland, staffed with an incorrigibly endearing housekeeper and her husband whose job it is to “keep the place up”.
{Also a Gamekeeper. I’ve always liked the term “Gamekeeper” and Sir Timothy has one on From Larkrise to Candleford.}
Unfortunately at this point a slight problem comes to mind: How does one expect to amass this large amount of money?
And yet again, Dear Reader, my escape screeches to a halt, is foiled, is scarpered, comes to a crushingly heartbreaking and mind numbing end.
Doesn’t that just stink it up?
Tune in Next Week For:
Chapter The Second
In Which I Reconsider My Evil Plan And Am Stunningly Enlightened by a Bwah Hah Hah Moment.
{Hint.}
