Your Lord and Lady Piggott are off down to Eastbourne with the Seymour-Clouts tomorrow for an extended weekend break, so this will be the last blog this week.

I apologise for not producing many blogs recently but Piggott Place has been undergoing a bit of a makeover and I have been keeping my beady eye on proceedings to ensure that all work carried out came up to my extremely high standards.

Obviously, I will miss Piggott Place but have put my trust in Grimes to make sure that the running of the estate goes smoothly. I made it clear to him that if things are not as they should be on my return he will incur my wrath.

Your Lord is extremely pleased that his followers are such a happy band and get on so nicely together. There has even been a sniff of romance in the air recently between certain disciples and I am keeping my fingers crossed that everything goes to plan in that department.

While I am away and unable to monitor the antics of all my followers, I thought that I would hand the blog over to you all.

I thought that perhaps you would like to discuss things you miss when you are away from home, so please enlighten us as to the little luxuries you cannot take with you on holiday.

One of the things I miss most when I am away from Piggott Place is my favourite leather armchair from where I more or less run the estate these days.

I suppose you could describe it as my throne and it is strictly off limits to everyone except my good self, so you can imagine my displeasure when Your Lord and Lady P. returned home a day early from a stay in Le Touquet to find Grimes snoring his ugly head off in my favourite chair, empty bottle of brandy in hand.

Stealing the brandy was one thing but sitting his behind in my chair was almost too much to bear.

After shouting his name in an attempt to wake him did not have the desired effect, I marched to the fireplace and took down my trusty 12-bore shotgun. Having loaded both barrels I aimed over his head and pulled the triggers, bringing down the stag’s head I had mounted on the wall some 50 years previously.

Grimes lurched forward with amazing speed, sprawling on the tiger skin rug, coughing and spluttering as he did so.

On seeing my brown leather brogues just in front of his booze-ridden, vein enriched purple nose, he immediately realised that his greed for contraband liquor had ultimately resulted in his downfall.

Needless to say, this was one of the few occasions I had to implement the implement by way of punishment.

So come on folks, let us all know what you miss most about being away.

Enjoy your weekend and I hope you all behave yourselves.

Erastus

PS: Have a very happy birthday, Sunny.