Scones

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Paul

Well-known member
Club Member
Joined
Jul 2, 2007
Messages
1,932
An elderly man 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 Irish 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."
-----------------------------------------
 
That sounds like my wife!.......but she does make exceedingly nice Fruit Scones. bri
 

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