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I Like a Good Quote

I went on a mystery trip with a coachload of cackling Welsh women once (well, several times really, but i'm telling you about only one). Most of the passengers were teachers, real or retired. One of the places we stopped at and toured was a working windmill. The guide let us watch flour churning out downstairs, then took us up to look down on the machinations of the wind-driven machinery. Sacks of grain were hoisted up on pulleys, the grain got tipped down a hole, horrible lurching noises as the sails went round. My feet were aching and I wanted a cappuchino so i was fairly eager to hurry through, buy a bag of flour and sit down in the cafeteria overlooking the stream.

The glint of dragonfly wings in sunlight is very pretty when you've got a froth mustache and a croque m'sieur. Up the top of a windmill there's a lot of creaking and grinding and flour dust. I'm not usually so apathetic but wasn't my first time in a working windmill.

Just Jillian, a quite staid woman, wanted the full experience. Teaches mostly R.E. at a Valleys comprehensive, and was no doubt pondering on some lesson on breadmaking (or even loaves and fishes). The rest of us wanted to sit and eat and drink, and discuss what we wanted for dinner. So we left her to it. On our way down, we fancied we saw a kitten-heeled shoe drop down, so we deputised one of our party to buy half-pound bags of wholegrain for us all, and the rest of us went out and nabbed tables and ordered.

We were nearly ready to leave when Jillian rejoined us. Her hair was white with flour, her jacket was slightly mangled, tights ruined, and she was limping, in just one shoe. Apparently she'd caught her heel in the gap between floorboards, and it had fallen and landed on the floor below. So she'd found a pole-handled wooden shovel and tried to poke her shoe to safety. But failed. The shovel had got caught up and splintered in the machinery, but the force knocked her over and - well she was kind of ok and we genuinely wished we'd seen it. Sounded interesting. The shoe was a write-off, which is a shame; as was the shovel. But nobody minds a bit of pulverised shovel in their flour as long as they don't know it's there, though.

Poor old Jillian, though. She looked like she'd been through the mill
GarciaMarquez · 56-60, M
Been through the mill. And all because the lady loves a punchline. Very Flann O'Brien, Keats and Chapman.
damselfly · 100+, F
@GarciaMarquez you got me
GarciaMarquez · 56-60, M
Someone has to. They don't know what they're missing.
SW-User
goliathtree · 56-60, M
Were the shoes high heels? Maybe they could market the batch of flour as self rising.
damselfly · 100+, F
@goliathtree not very high, but stiletto thin. It didnt spoil the flour, but she had to buy new shoes in the next town. They were flat laceups
Hahahaha excellently told!
DonaldTrumpet · 70-79, M

 
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