Good vibrations

Well, according to Lumpkin, rumour has it that the house in the village behind the post office is in fact a place of 'suspicious nocturnal activity' which I took to mean that it was a knocking shop. However, it turns out that it is in fact a rural version of Anne Summers and has a large variety of clothing, kit and toys with which to enhance ones sex life. Apparently it is mostly mail order stuff, you know, shipped directly to the purchaser via Internet orders. Lumpkin reckons that old Pilgrim, from over the other side of the hill has been overheard in the pub saying that he is actually one of the suppliers of the shop.
Now, I doubt he is supplying such items as naughty nighties but I half wonder if it has anything to do with his new rubber recycling venture he started in one of his disused cattle sheds ? I thought he might be making safety barriers etc for children's playgrounds but having seen a pallet load of what looked like mini rubber bollards, I now have my doubts.
We'll just have to wait and see if he gets a pallet load of Duracell batteries...

Old Mr. Kipper, my gardener, told me today that my greenhouse will need some work done to it this year. I must admit that I haven't been over to it for a good while now so cannot say what state it is in as it is fairly well hidden from sight by the trees and bushes that are over in that side of the walled garden.
Kipper reckons that for best results when growing tomatoes and cucumbers, we should cover the greenhouse in reflective foil sheets and get a power supply across to it so that he can put some special heat lamps in there to protect the plants from frost.
I'm sure he knows what he is doing.

The Bishop came up earlier for a glass of sherry. Actually, it was all rather strange. I was just going to hang a couple of partridges in the old coach house when I saw something moving in the back yard of the stable block/apartments. I then saw someone with something over their head. As I went over to take a look, I was obviously spotted and the fellow tore the garment from his person and it was none other than the Bishop. He looked extremely flustered and blurted out something about the wind having blown what turned out to be a pair of knickers from the washing line behind young Dylan's apartment, straight onto his face...
Why he would have come round that way I have no idea as he would have had to go through the side gate and across the lawn, almost in the opposite direction to my front door.
Oh well.