Some years back, John B, my mother in law took a trip to the United States of America. She had never
been a prolific letter writer so not hearing from her in almost twenty years we were not too concerned. Her return ticket on an aptly named tramp steamer, freighting banannas to Corpus Christie, Texas, was open ended and nonrefundable.
Her grandchildren, now in their mid to late 20's, were much relieved when we told them that their grandmother was holidaying with a family of Hobits living in sin with a girly group of heavily tattooed Smirfs and located in close proximity to where, Angels Flight, the now long dismantled furnicular tramway in Los Angeles, Calif., was once located.
Quite fitting a place as it so happens because she always seemed to enjoy being under something slow moving and heavy.However, and quite out of the blue, we were contacted by one of her obsequious boyfriends, a pox doctors clerk by trade named Piers, seeking any information as to the old trouts whereabouts. Of course none of her family had heard from her either and were enjoying a blessed peace during her windfall absence.
But thanks to you John, and most fortunately as it now happens, there she is, the old dear mama in law squatting comfortably at the edge of your water feature.
Looking a bit ossified but appearing none the worse for wear. Anyway if there is any doubt in your mind if it's her or not, just wait to see if she starts bitching, sorry I mean, complaining, that you are a rat shit father and don't make enough money, then that will surely be her.
PS. No, she left her house with out a return address label, so she's all yours now, mate.