Mrs Playmo and I are very sorry for the resounding silence. We have no excuse for not having posted, except for very bad organisation skills (please note that Mrs P and I are in this together, even if she can only type by jumping up and down on the keyboard).
We are still going strong, moving our respective rumps and taking pictures, but we haven’t had time to upload and describe our antics of late. There have also been a few days when it was so windy that Mrs Playmo either refused to come out of my photo bag, or couldn’t stand up for the photo because she got blown over all the time. I tried to convince her that everyone had already seen her knickers anyway, but to no avail.
So here is a resumé of her intrepid adventures to get you up to date. Grab the popcorn and dim the lights, folks …
Mrs Playmo particularly enjoyed the Museum in Nîmes, and insisted on posing as an alligator hunter in the hope of being spotted in time for the casting of the next Crocodile Dundee film.
Amelia Shacklebottom’s daughter made a brave bid to avenge her mother, but was caught red-handed as she tried to do a runner with Mrs Playmo’s carpet-bag.
Mrs Playmo always pushes in and forces her musical choices on me. She has a distinct preference for Tom Jones, and leaps around the vineyards yelling “What’s new pussy cat”.
Unbeknown to Mrs Playmo, Prince Charming had survived her sinister New Year’s Eve plot to get rid of him. In her drunken stupor, she had forgotten to remove the champagne bucket she had jammed on his head before burying him in the sand. Luckily, she had followed Mrs Sensible’s Wet Wooden Spoon Self-Defence course in a hidden training camp run by a black sheep in Italy. He was soon heading off to the horizon as fast as his horse could take him.
Ok, during the interval, here’s the advertising: for more about Mrs Sensible, check out PN’s blog at http://englishmaninitaly.org
Now, dim lights…. Andra, stop wriggling. And Gypsy, that’s my popcorn.
It was cold that day…. Mrs Playmo checking in the cave for any signs of a bear who could spare her a bit of fur to make a coat.
Mrs Playmo thought she could pass this one off as intrepid tight-rope walking on the Eiffel tower. I do admit that it was a dangerous exploit, though: given the gusts of wind, she could have fallen into the local irrigation canal.
My two-year-old nephew fell in love with Bigfoot’s old bulldozer and carted it around everywhere with him. They got on like a house on fire – like him, Mrs P never misses an opportunity to dig up a bit of dirt.
An inconclusive attempt at harpooning whales in Aigues-Mortes.
Mr Playmo had sent a cryptic message to Mrs Playmo: “Meet you on the beach. Choose your weapon carefully”. When he turned up with a lollipop and said something about sweetening up baddies before hitting them over the head, a danger bell rang in Mrs P’s mind. Had Eric spilled the beans?
After a very heated argument with Mr Playmo on the beach, Mrs P insisted that she wanted to visit the torture chamber museum in Carcassonne to get a few ideas. I told her that her cooking was ample punishment for her husband. She didn’t get her own way, but she did get the satisfaction of seeing me get laughed at by the builders working on the house opposite when I took this photo.
There you go, folks. Back to normal tomorrow for the last two days of the challenge….
Multifarious meanderings 
Taking a chance with the croc I’d say
She is fearless. And she is drinking my wine allowance plus her daily bottle, meaning that her Dutch courage is on a par with that of Hollande faced with the paparazzi on his way to see his mistress on a moped.
Mrs Playmo is looking a little bit chunky. .. does she need to go on a January diet?
Be careful, or she’ll be back to Italy with her wooden spoon. She’s depressed at the moment, and has been drinking her wine AND mine. I suspect that things are going to go pear shape soon…
That answers the question. Wine makes you fat, Mrs S has tried to reduce my wine consumption, but I know where she hides the bottles.
Perhaps you could try paint brushing some of Mrs Playmo’s photos. I hear it is all the rage in Cosmopolitan.
Her bottom is so fat now that she slid down her pole on Friday night before she had time to dance. I think she’s putting on weight for me – a bit like men who put on weight during their wife’s pregnancy.
I’m with Mrs. Playmo on the knickers bit. She looks awesome (I’m assuming she’s a mid-40’s babe like ourselves …), but there comes a time when we just look so much better dressed (or in very soft lighting). More is less, and all that …
Sorry about the popcorn (can’t help but add that it wouldn’t be a problem if I’d been served a decent glass of rose …)
Happy to see you both!
XX
Don’t forget that she’s a pole-dancer. Everyone knows what knickers she wears. 😀 She is indeed a mid-forties babe. She has less wrinkles than me – one of the advantages of being a play is the permanent plastic surgery.
I was kidding about the popcorn. I will get you a bucket of rosé sorted for the next showing 🙂
PS did you get my message via your blog, girl?
I was wondering about y’all, glad you checked in! 😀
Hey, you! I was thinking about you this morning. Have been held up in my mission but haven’t forgotten 😉
Ah, no problem. Remember, there is a mythical creature on the line. No pressure or anything 😉
Mrs Playmo is very adventurous – and to be able to do some of things in the face of windy weather, just shows her strong character. I see she has decided to opt for the rolling pin rather than the wooden spoon as a weapon of choice. I think the rolling pin would inflict a more painful bump on the head. 🙂
She has a huge array of weapons. She wanted to buy a longbow in Carcassonne, but it was too big for her. She didn’t sulk for long though, because she wanted to see if Kevin Costner was still there after filming Robin Hood.
I hope she wasn’t disappointed. 🙂
She was. So was I. We looked everywhere and we ready to do our Maid Marion bit, but to no avail. Sniff.
Poor Mrs P – things just don’t seem to go her way when hoping to meet men.
I think she set her sights a tad too high.
Oh, and ask PN about whether a rolling pin is more painful than a wet wooden spoon….
Perhaps PN needs to write a post/academic paper on the use of wet wooden spoons versus the rolling pin/other blunt instrument?
I’m sure he could be tempted, or coerced into it with the threat of a wet wooden spoon.
BWAHAHAHAHAHA! Mrs P on the bulldozer in her undies, digging up a bit of dirt. I LOVE IT.
Yeah, it’s Andra! You look like a very busy cookie at the moment. Mrs Playmo says she’d be happy to lend you and your dad her bulldozer for added sales whammy. She’s right – if you both wear corsets and sit on the bulldozer you’ll have heaps of people coming for signed editions 🙂
I’m more of a ‘Delilah’ woman myself but I still like her 😉
Why, why, why, Delilah….? It’s not unusual, I suppose. 😀
I guess Mrs P doesn’t like stab victims – she seems more like a stabber than a stabee 😉
“Luckily, she had followed Mrs Sensible’s Wet Wooden Spoon Self-Defence course in a hidden training camp run by a black sheep in Italy. ” I’d like to sign up for Mrs Sensible’s training course, please. Is there a beginner’s level, do you think?
I reckon we should contact Mrs Sensible for a group price – just imagine the fun we could have! Mrs Playmo was positively raving about the experience – apparently Mrs Sensible deprives her husband of wine, makes out that it’s for his health, then drinks it with her recruits. oops, trainees.
Oh, wow! I think I’ll be fairly close to their dwelling place later this year. maybe I can negotiate/bribe her with some Italian wine?
That sounds like a plan 🙂 Oh, and try some crisps too. Rumor has it that the black sheep likes those.
Goodness, you’ve been all over the place recently! Love the photo and text with the whale. Are you supposed to know about Mrs Sensible’s secret wooden spoon training camp to train for world domination?
How was the Nimes museum?
We have been majorly busy people. I think that thewet wooden spoon brigade is definitely the way to go…
The museum was fascinating. I particularly liked the orangutang skeleton with a bolt sticking out of its skull – looked like a Tim Burton girl skeleton with a bow in its inexistant hair.
I’ve been quiet for a long time too but am planning to get back into it soon. I see Mrs Playmo is taking the world by storm. Hide your wine, I say.
Hi there Miss C, nice to see you 🙂 She has found all my hiding places and is completely out of her tree today. Something awful happened this week. All will be revealed shortly…
These are excellent photographs and Mrs Playmo is an intrepid and inspiring woman. But I can’t help wondering if some sort of blogging brain-fever has started to set in… 😀
Brain fever, possibly. I’ve always been a tad on the nutty side. As long as it’s not cabin fever.
🙂 I definitely get cabin fever here in the summer… Glad you and Mrs P are getting out and about and enjoying yourselves! xx
You’re not the only one catching up, MM. Just reading the account of your travels with Mrs Playmo left me breathless. She’s quite an intrepid little woman, isn’t she?
She’s an amazing little lady. Remember Maggie T saying that there wouldn’t be a woman PM in her lifetime? I reckon Mrs P could be the first Playmo version.
love the supersize handbag!
I am so sorry it took so long to respond to you – I haven’t been on the blog for a while. Thank you for visiting! Mrs Playmo’s handbag, like many other Playmobil accessories, is somewhat outsized and can be a cause of concern when her nephew climbs into it unnoticed and ends up at the pub with her.