A Russian agent arrives at a small Welsh station and asks for Mr Jones. “Well,” says the stationmaster, “there’s Jones the Milk, Jones the Meat, Jones the Flowers, Jones the Undertaker. In fact, my name’s Jones.” The agent whispers to him, “The eagle doesn’t walk over the mountain.”...
This 'retirement' thing is quite easy.
Just dropped off Mrs AR in Marlow for afternoon tea with her friend.
Then I'm off down for a long walk down the Thames.
Marvellous :D