Dear Dreary.
This hose pipe ban has taken me to the brink of losing my sanity.
So, I got rid of my hose pipe. But I still needed to wash the car, wash the windows, water the plants, hanging baskets etc.
Elephants aren't cheap and living with one brings it's own agenda.
The queue for the bathroom is horrendous now, Nelly uses all the big bath towels and has stretched the shower cap to the point of being useless.
The stench of elephant dung hangs wantonly in the air which at least gives the mother in law an excuse to blame someone else for a change.
It's costing me a small fortune in fruit, hay and a monthly subscription to 'Tusk & Trunk', the essential health and fitness magazine for your jungle jumbo.
Don't get me wrong, he's a dab hand with a sponge and a shammy and the garden has never looked quite so lush.
However, recently I've spotted him eyeing up next doors Pomeranian. I think he's in love. My worry is this. Although very sweet, an African bull elephant and a miniature prize winning puppy make for an unlikely couple and I imagine 'Tricksy Von Treats the Third' would find it near impossible to thwart the amorous advances of our hefty hero and therefore runs the risk of never walking down the aisle at crufts again.
Should I tell him she's a bit of a slag or something?
Yours,
Joy Doolittle.

Joy.
You have my sympathy dear. Although it struck me that you may have your wires ever so slightly crossed here ( a bull called Nellie?!? ),this scenario reminds me of my second husband Henry. He was a big chap, in more ways than one. Loved his stout, and had a strong liking for a pie or two, mainly steak and stout or the game bird variety. He was phallicly endowed to the point of being unable to purchase underwear, so most of the time it just hung there, a redundant monster.
My first love, Albert, had already given me my three lovely children, so there was no way Henry was coming anywhere near me with that damn thing.
Remember your bible. Mary's legendary plea to Joseph in the garden of Gethsemamee.
''You shall ne'er thread the eye of one's needle with thy enormous cock-like staff thingy. Not even at Crimbo old son''.
So don't worry about Nellie.
Ain't going to happen.
Dreary x.