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Auntie Agatha

I havent explained before and feel I should enlighten you. Auntie Agatha is a relation who always wore her rather "Sensible Tweed Hat" it matched her rather Sensible Tweed Skirt which underneath, when she lifted it you cud see her boobs dangling as she didnt wear a bra in later years. You could also see her rather Sensible Huge Tweed Knickers but I dont even wish to go there!! she hated the idea of waxing and believed Au natural was best but my god she sprouted a rainforest. (plus she had a full moustache and goatie beard) Unfortunately when she died which was only last tuesday she left the skirt to a cousin...and her knickers to the vicar.......dont ask! I would have looked dapper in that outfit!! She trained Scottish terriers and other small animals...actually if I remember rightly she learnt how to encourage them in what to do with a hard kick up the backside Each morning she would start the day with a stiff whiskey and was a stickler for tradition in that she ended the day with a stiff whiskey...actually the whole day was governed by a stiff whiskey.....and I never saw her drunk. She had an exemplary reputation and a fantastic recipe for shortbread but had the uncanny habit of terrifying everybody with her wit and ability to make everyone feel inferior.......Im trying to inherit that one. hence when I put on her hat.......I AM AUNTIE AGATHA (without the facial hair) ok?!

The Payne Seat

My mother always fancied bagging herself an Australian cowboy, hence my name Sydney! ....which is rather daft for I'm female but none the less they still decided it suited the little redhaired child with the turned up nose! My father a Graham, married into a one of a long line of Paynes and thought it rather apt on discovering his wife to be's grandmother was an S&M dominatrix to most of Europe's aristocracy in her part time. My mother's refusal to believe that it was anything other than services to King and country and something one did, meant that it was NEVER talked about for fear of some weird official secrets act and the thought of betraying a King or a Queen was nothing short of high treason in her book. They spent the early part of their marriage blissfully happy and blissfully unaware that they were considered most strange by the village that surrounded the manor house. When my father died my mother refused to be parted from him so consequently had bits of him placed in a rather fancy glass hipflask which was kept in her knickers. Quite which part of him was there, we will never know but the rest was ceremoneously scattered on the rose bushes in accordence with his will by the gardener, Trevor. In attendence was also the lawyer, my mother, Aunt Agatha Graham a spinster and also my fathers favourite sister, a small dog and a politician who father had done a favour for. I think there was a few more but I was young, and terrified of Aunt Agatha so hid for most of the time with the yorkshire terrier who infact belonged to the vicar. Oh I forgot to say my father had been cremated! Trevor never really got over my father's death...well the funeral. That really was the stumbling block because it was then that they realised that he was probably a distant yet illegitamate relation. You see they suspect now that the S&M granny had become attached to a royal prince and produced a child who was adopted by the then gardener and his wife who was barren! becoming one of a long line of Trevor's to serve the house. Its so confusing but at the funeral they saw a resemblance to Tzar Nicolas and my mother's sister Maud and it was then that it clicked! it was only a look but enough for Auntie Agatha to swear allegience to the Russians and swig vodka for the rest of the day. My mother, refusing to mention a thing because of the treason, became most upset and the politician had to assure her that she wasnt awaiting the boat to take her up the thames to the tower. All in all it was a dramatic day. One of a long history of dramatic days that were the norm for the Graham Girls!
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