You’re hunting in a camo waistcoat and you wonder why you’re not immorally interfacing with Rebecca? Oh, the humanity. Maybe, just maybe, if you were shooting you can get away with camo. But if you’re to win Rebecca’s, er, uh, heart when riding to hounds you’ll need a visit to Huntsman & Son on Saville Row.
You’re welcome.
A soon as read that, I got an image of you in a painting by Eugene Delacroix. The guy at the back, biting Dante’s boat. The first time I looked at this painting, I had the overwhelming impression the the artist was taking the piss (pardon my French). I have read, subsequently, that he’s on record as saying he really enjoyed painting this piccy. 
When I read that, I though,‘Yeah! I bet y’ did.’
I’m wondering if instead of Freud, given your relationship with the lost soul biting the rear end of the boat, Carl Jung and his Collective Unconscious may hold a few revelations for you.
Happy biting,
Vic
Backwoodsman, mon ami,
You’ve misread my post. The garments in question are bibs to catch dribbles etc. Mine, as I pointed out, are made of the same waxed cotton camo material, as the waistcoat pictured. And, as for riding to hounds, I’d rather suck a kilo of lemons. My sympathy lies squarely with the fox. Like you, I hunt in the forests, but with a camera, not a rifle, and my prey is Mother Nature’s eccentricities’
Anyway, Rebecca and I are history now. I’ve got my sights on Mrs Danvers
Sorry to disappoint you, but Mrs. Danvers has eyes only for Mrs. DeWinter.
Feet hold little interest. Now a plate of braised chicken in a combination of teriyaki sauce with a healthy amount of gochujang and sesame? Mmmmm.
Would that be ‘feet’ as in, ‘When you walk with naked feet, how can you ever forget the earth?’ or as in: Pig’s Trotters (crubeens) 
But, Danvers is such a devious, manipulative, conniving, self-serving bitch, that once she sees her would be girl friend, engulfed by a lust fuelled maelstrom of desire, when confronted with a criminally handsome, extremely wealthy, HAW, just oozing animal magnetism, she’ll slip into ‘Haw seduction mode’.
There y’ go … sorted.
Won’t happen. I’m not in the game.
So wot y’ sayin’?
a) you’re a member of The Ancient and Noble Order of Hirsuitum Posterious Weldercusi (Hairy Arsed Welders)
c) you’re criminally handsome, extremely wealthy, and just oozing animal magnetism,
d) you’re both.
c
OOPS!! Sorry I forgot to include b). I am silly 
I’ll graciously let you have all the pigs’ feet and jellied eel. (Although smoked ham hocks make for good pea soup.)
one of my three signature dishes. here’s one I made earlier
Bon appétit. 
Ooooh. Looks tasty! I haven’t made it in awhile. I grew up with a pea soup that tasted like grass porridge. (Maybe boiled with some ham steak or a ham bone, if there was one.) Cumin and a splash of vinegar really do help it, too. 
Had last dish full on Friday, of a batch I made mid-week. Not my best effort. 
