Podcasts about giant hogweed

There were heated exchanges over hogweed at the most recent meeting of Clare County Council. Giant Hogweed can cause burns and even blindness if humans come into contact with it. The potentially dangerous invasive species of weed is present in parts of Clare, having spread through part of the River Shannon catchment, including alongside the River Blackwater in South-East Clare. A motion came before this month's Council meeting,urging the local authority to ask the relevant Minister to provide the necessary funding for the eradication of Hogweed. To speak about the issue of hogweed, Alan Morrissey was joined by Shannon Banks Sinn Fein Cllr, who suffered a burn after coming into contact with hogweed as a child, James Ryan and Clonlara Independent Cllr, Michael Begley. Photo(C): erge from pixabay via canva

The Manor In The Woods By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed. Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well. ‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. 'I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested. 'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion. Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years. Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him. Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness. Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village. Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself. As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills. 'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved. 'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?' 'Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own. 'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway. 'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like. 'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered. 'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her? 'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share. 'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.' 'Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing. 'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.' 'Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask. 'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed. 'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on. 'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before. 'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose. 'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard. 'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head. 'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host. 'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly. 'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow. 'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.' 'How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story. Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited. 'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet. Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished. 'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours. By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous. Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him. 'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?' Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband. 'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience. 'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.' With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor. 'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom. 'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?' 'Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?' 'No!' she gasped quickly. 'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?' 'I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body. 'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred. 'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.' 'Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness. 'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself. With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with. Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan. Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event. Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs. The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise. 'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making. 'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming. Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible. 'Is everything okay?' he asked gently. 'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead. 'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded. It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more. 'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.' 'I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate. 'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.' 'He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.' 'Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children? Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched. 'Hey,' he growled. 'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly. 'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed. 'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked. 'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went. 'Yes, in the photo on your phone.' 'Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.' 'Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web. 'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.' 'Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. To be continued in Part 3 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

The Manor In The Woods By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed. Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well. ‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. 'I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested. 'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion. Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years. Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him. Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness. Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village. Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself. As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills. 'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved. 'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?' 'Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own. 'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway. 'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like. 'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered. 'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her? 'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share. 'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.' 'Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing. 'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.' 'Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask. 'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed. 'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on. 'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before. 'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose. 'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard. 'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head. 'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host. 'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly. 'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow. 'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.' 'How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story. Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited. 'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet. Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished. 'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours. By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous. Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him. 'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?' Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband. 'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience. 'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.' With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor. 'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom. 'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?' 'Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?' 'No!' she gasped quickly. 'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?' 'I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body. 'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred. 'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.' 'Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness. 'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself. With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with. Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan. Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event. Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs. The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise. 'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making. 'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming. Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible. 'Is everything okay?' he asked gently. 'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead. 'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded. It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more. 'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.' 'I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate. 'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.' 'He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.' 'Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children? Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched. 'Hey,' he growled. 'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly. 'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed. 'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked. 'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went. 'Yes, in the photo on your phone.' 'Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.' 'Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web. 'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.' 'Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. To be continued in Part 3 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

Looks Unfamiliar is a podcast in which writer and occasional broadcaster Tim Worthington talks to a guest about some of the things that they remember that nobody else ever seems to.This time, in a special summer edition, Tim, Bob Fischer and Georgy Jamieson are all crowding into a sweltering local radio studio with only a lone copy of the Capital Radio DJs' Dot Cotton and Thatcher impression-led parody cover of The Holiday Rap by MC Miker G And DJ Sven to hand, ready to take your calls about some of the seaside tat and summer holiday boredom that - perhaps thankfully - you just don't seem to get any more. So that's morning television being full of crackly old repeated imports and Why Don't You...?, Breakfast Television insisting on presenting daily roving 'saucy' reports from seaside towns, everyone watching the tennis and cricket coverage for the theme music and then switching off, the Radio 1 Roadshow, badly-planned interminable car journeys to rain-lashed resorts, those weird shops that sold plastic fishing nets and fold-up aviator shades and arcades that had one lone solitary 'Space Invaders' machine, the newsagent wheeling out that big freezer for another summer of rivalry between Wall's and Lyons Maid and much more besides. In a drizzly heatwave of a chat we'll be speculating on the efficacy of Kiss-Me-Quick-Hats sported by popular television puppets, searching for Ian Botham's constantly moving speakeasy, visiting the Motorway Service Station Mirror Universe, revisiting the BBC's 'Summer Apes' Season, celebrating the work of the Gary Davies Elvis fairground artist, despairing of the rival rivalries between Mr. Freeze and Ice Pops and The Halfwits and The Dingbats, revealing why all ice cream vans have an army of Mods in hot pursuit, organising a day trip to the exact spot where Roland Rat pushed Kevin The Gerbil down a hill, going to see Confessions Of A Ventriloquist starring Robin Askwith and Richard Herring, not staring at Erika Roe on an on-the-spot report live from a joke shop and debating whether summer is ever truly summer if you haven't spent the entirety of it throwing a tennis ball against a wall. Call in and tell us the most you've ever won on a 'one-armed bandit' now!You can find more editions of Looks Unfamiliar at http://timworthington.org/. You can also find Bob and Georgy on Looks Unfamiliar taking a look at some of their favourite forgotten Christmas trimmings here as well as Bob on The Tom O'Connor Roadshow, Giant Hogweed, Can't Get A Ticket (For The World Cup) by Peter Dean, Glee Bars, J. Edward Oliver's ‘Abolish Tuesdays' and How To Be A Wally here, Eighties ‘Tabloid Celebrities', Accidentally Kelly Street by Frente!, The Two Ronnies' ‘Mileaway', Rude Food, Suggs On Saturday and School Folk Songs here and Tucker's Luck, Pookiesnackenburger, We Wanna Be Famous by Buster Gobsmack And Eats Filth', game show contestants' occupations being booed by the studio audience and the lost ancient art of the paper plate and shaving foam Custard Pie here, and Georgy on Indoor League, Re-Joyce!, the The Animals In The Box sketch, the Paul Squire Fan Club, Pippa Dolls, Pig In The Middle and Good Winter Telly here.If you enjoy Looks Unfamiliar, you can help to support the show by buying us a coffee here. In a mug large enough to spare Erika Roe's modesty please.

The “everything shower” has gone down the drain — it's all about the “nothing shower.” While the everything shower is specific to each washer and can change every time, the point of an everything shower is to indulge in taking the time to clean and care for every inch of your body based on your own preferences. But sometimes, you just don't have the time or energy to spend hours soaking in the tub cleansing every pore. In fact, some people are even sharing that sometimes they get in the shower and do absolutely nothing. In the headlines on #TheUpdate this Monday, A young man's lifeless body was found floating in the Harlem River Sunday morning, cops said. The body of the unidentified man – believed to be in his 20s – was discovered just after 9:30 a.m., when authorities responded to a 911 call for an unconscious male, spotted facedown in the river near East 106th Street, police said. It looks like an innocent flower, but it's so dangerous it can alter human DNA. The Giant Hogweed is one of the most dangerous invasive plants in the US — and it's all over New York state. And the center of Hurricane Debby is expected to reach the Big Bend coast of Florida early Monday bringing potential record-setting rains, catastrophic flooding and life-threatening storm surge as it moves slowly across the northern part of the state before stalling over the coastal regions of Georgia and South Carolina.

Al heel lang proberen mensen de plantenwereld naar hun hand te zetten. We selecteren en we kweken soorten waar we profijt van denken te hebben, vooral qua voeding maar ook wel omdat ze er mooi uitzien of beschutting bieden. Andere, niet meteen nuttig gevonden planten worden dan vaak ‘wilde planten' genoemd. Daarvan hebben we  er zo'n 2300 soorten in Nederland. Maar inmiddels hoort daar een woord bij, namelijk inheemse wilde planten. Want de mens heeft er voor gezorgd dat planten van elders steeds meer kansen bij ons krijgen. Onze insecten zijn niet geraadpleegd, en die kunnen vaak weinig met de nieuwelingen aanvangen en natuurlijke vijanden ontbreken vaak geheel.Vroeger al kenden we adventieve planten van elders, onder de naam pothoofdplanten, naar de aanlandingsplaats bij Deventer van graan vanuit de hele wereld voor meelfabrieken. Inmiddels komen er zo'n acht nieuwe soorten per jaar bij. Deze neofieten zijn voor een klein deel Zuid-Europese soorten die het nu via de klimaatopwarming ook bij ons beginnen te redden. Maar het merendeel zijn verwilderde, ingevoerde tuinplanten. Daarbij zijn er een aantal exotische soorten die inmiddels steeds sterker onze natuur bedreigen. Zulke soorten worden invasief genoemd. We bespreken hier een drietal opvallend oprukkende soorten..De Japanse duizendknoop komt met zijn ondergrondse wortelstokken door de kleinste spleten, de wortels vormen vrijwel onverwoestbare snoeren met knopen waaruit stengels groeien, een geheel dat niet alleen tuinen overwoekert, maar ook gebouwen, bruggen en wegen aantast. Begrazen door varkens maar nog beter door schapen vormt soms een deeloplossing. Voor de rest blijft niets anders dan eindeloos maaien, wortelstokken zorgvuldig uitgraven (en verwijderen in de grijze ton!). Heel West-Europa, Canada, Amerika, Australië en Nieuw-Zeeland, allemaal worstelen ze er mee. De plant is nota bene ooit door een Duitse arts in Leiden ingevoerd en verhandeld in zijn postorderbedrijf in de negentiende eeuw (een exemplaar staat nog in de Hortus).Makkelijker weg te krijgen maar gevaarlijker voor de gezondheid is de Reuzenberenklauw. Drie tot vijf meter hoog wordt die plant en aanraking op de huid leidt tot ernstige brandwonden. Met zijn grote witte bloemen is het een prachtige plant, in Noord-Noorwegen noemen ze hem zelfs trots de Tromsø-palm. Om ze op te ruimen is beschermende kleding nodig. Ondergronds uitsteken is de beste methode, maaien moet tot wel vijf keer per jaar. Begrazen met schapen en geiten is ook een oplossing. Een derde invasieve kampioen is de reuzenbalsemien. Het springzaad schiet als de vruchten rijp zijn vaak meters ver weg. Daardoor overwoekeren ze al heel snel een gebied. De plant is simpel uit te trekken, beter natuurlijk als de vruchten nog niet rijp zijn. Het probleem van alle drie soorten is vooral hun voorkomen in openbaar groen en natuurgebieden. Als de beheerders niet snel ingrijpen kan het binnen enkele jaren geheel uit de hand lopen. Des te belangrijker is het om in onze tuinen goed op te passen en deze soorten geen kans te geven op vermeerdering.Eng:Menno and Erwin: Invasive vs. Wild PlantsFor a long time, humans have tried to control the plant world. We select and cultivate species we think will benefit us, primarily for food but also because they look nice or provide shelter. Other plants that are not immediately seen as useful are often called ‘wild plants.' In the Netherlands, we have about 2,300 of these species. However, nowadays, we refer to them as native wild plants because humans have increasingly given plants from elsewhere a chance to thrive here. Our insects were not consulted, and they often cannot handle these newcomers, which usually lack natural enemies.In the past, we knew of adventive plants from elsewhere, known as ‘pothead plants,' named after the landing place in Deventer where grain from around the world arrived for flour mills. Nowadays, about eight new species arrive each year. These neophytes are partially southern European species that can now survive here due to climate warming. However, the majority are escaped, imported garden plants. Some exotic species have begun to significantly threaten our nature. These species are called invasive. Here, we discuss three notably aggressive species.Japanese Knotweed spreads through underground rhizomes that can penetrate the smallest cracks, forming nearly indestructible cords with nodes from which stems grow. This not only overtakes gardens but also damages buildings, bridges, and roads. Grazing by pigs, but even better by sheep, can sometimes provide a partial solution. Otherwise, endless mowing and carefully digging out (and disposing of in the grey bin) the rhizomes remain necessary. All of Western Europe, Canada, America, Australia, and New Zealand are struggling with it. Ironically, the plant was once introduced by a German doctor in Leiden and sold through his mail-order company in the nineteenth century (a specimen still stands in the Hortus).Giant Hogweed is easier to remove but more dangerous to health. This plant grows three to five meters tall, and contact with the skin can cause severe burns. With its large white flowers, it is a beautiful plant, even proudly called the Tromsø palm in Northern Norway. Protective clothing is necessary for removal. Digging out underground is the best method, and mowing must be done up to five times a year. Grazing with sheep and goats is also a solution.A third invasive champion is the Himalayan Balsam. Its seeds shoot meters away when the fruits are ripe, quickly overtaking an area. The plant is easy to pull out, preferably before the fruits are ripe. The problem with all three species is primarily their presence in public green spaces and nature reserves. If managers do not act quickly, it can get out of hand within a few years. It is, therefore, crucial to be vigilant in our gardens and not give these species a chance to multiply. Get full access to Menno en Erwin about Nature and Science at www.mennoenerwin.nl/subscribe

Episode 187 Details Exploring the outdoors is a wonderful way to connect with nature, but it's important to be aware of plants that can cause discomfort or harm. Knowing how to identify these plants can prevent unpleasant encounters. This guide highlights the top five plants to watch out for, including the infamous Poison Ivy. Join radio hosts Rebecca Wanner aka 'BEC' and Jeff ‘Tigger' Erhardt with The Bend Radio Show & Podcast, your news outlet for the latest in Outdoors & Western Lifestyle News! Top 5 Plants That Cause Discomfort in Your Yard or Nature 1. Poison Ivy (Toxicodendron radicans) Identification Leaves: Typically, clusters of three leaflets. Color: Green in the summer, turning red, orange, or yellow in the fall. Growth Habit: Can grow as a vine, shrub, or ground cover.  Symptoms of Contact Skin Reaction: Red, itchy rash, often with blisters. Spread: Can spread if the oil (urushiol) is not washed off.  Prevention Tips Clothing: Wear long sleeves and pants when in areas where Poison Ivy may grow. Washing: Wash skin immediately if you think you've touched Poison Ivy.    2. Poison Oak (Toxicodendron diversilobum)  Identification Leaves: Similar to oak leaves, typically three leaflets per cluster. Color: Green in the spring and summer, red or brown in the fall. Growth Habit: Can grow as a shrub or vine.  Symptoms of Contact Skin Reaction: Itchy, red rash, similar to Poison Ivy. Spread: Rash can spread via the urushiol oil.  Prevention Tips Avoidance: Learn to identify and avoid this plant in the wild. Cleaning: Clean clothes and gear that may have come into contact with the plant.  3. Poison Sumac (Toxicodendron vernix)  Identification Leaves: Pinnate with 7-13 leaflets per stem. Color: Bright green leaves, white or grey berries. Growth Habit: Small tree or large shrub, often found in wet, swampy areas.  Symptoms of Contact Skin Reaction: Severe itching, redness, and blistering. Spread: Urushiol oil can cause a rash if it comes into contact with the skin.  Prevention Tips Location Awareness: Avoid swampy areas where Poison Sumac is common. Protective Gear: Wear gloves and long clothing when working near potential Poison Sumac areas.  4. Stinging Nettle (Urtica dioica)  Identification Leaves: Serrated, heart-shaped leaves with fine hairs. Color: Green stems and leaves. Growth Habit: Herbaceous plant, commonly found in moist, fertile soil.  Symptoms of Contact Skin Reaction: Immediate stinging sensation, followed by redness and itching. Duration: Symptoms can last from a few minutes to several hours.  Prevention Tips Awareness: Know how to identify stinging nettle and avoid touching it. Clothing: Wear gloves and long sleeves when walking through areas where nettles are common.  5. Giant Hogweed (Heracleum mantegazzianum)  Identification Leaves: Large, deeply lobed leaves. Color: White umbrella-shaped flowers. Growth Habit: Can grow up to 14 feet tall.  Symptoms of Contact Skin Reaction: Severe skin burns and blisters when exposed to sunlight. Eyes: Can cause blindness if sap gets into the eyes.  Prevention Tips Avoidance: Avoid touching or handling the plant. Protective Gear: Wear long sleeves, pants, and eye protection when in areas where Giant Hogweed is present. Conclusion: Beware of these 5 plants in the outdoors! Identifying these five plants—Poison Ivy, Poison Oak, Poison Sumac, Stinging Nettle, and Giant Hogweed—is crucial for avoiding discomfort and potential health issues during your outdoor adventures. By recognizing these plants and taking preventative measures, you can enjoy nature safely and comfortably. If you believe to have encountered any of these plants, immediately seek medical attention from your primary physician or other medical expertise.   TRAVEL TRENDS This is what is Bleisure Travel. Bleisure travel, a fusion of 'business' and 'leisure,' is a growing trend that combines work trips with personal relaxation. This emerging practice allows travelers to maximize their time away by blending business commitments with leisure activities. From exploring local attractions to indulging in cultural experiences, bleisure travel offers a perfect balance between work and play. Discover how you can enhance your next business trip with unforgettable bleisure experiences. This is what is Authentic Travel (or Local Immersion). Authentic travel embodies genuine experiences, connecting travelers with the essence of a destination. It goes beyond tourist hotspots to explore local culture, traditions, and lifestyles. Embracing authenticity, travelers seek meaningful interactions and immersive experiences that unveil the true soul of a place. From savoring local cuisine to engaging with communities, authentic travel fosters deeper connections and lasting memories. Unlock the secrets of genuine exploration and elevate your travel experiences with our guide to authentic travel. Example - Ditch the tour bus and immerse yourself more into how locals live. REFERENCES https://www.cmich.edu/blog/all-things-higher-ed/20-amazing-facts-you-didnt-know-about-tornadoes-and-hurricanes?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR3qdziC3jjA9YsAcGHKExXfKWnVXR2VNeZPfHAoOJLOrqe7EylUL6jvVjM_aem_AWaUvlideWPViccAjXDHN3BpCqLElCh6ukUT-ouUsG0BXDmn8d03XZ0USupronqRCXhRby4jEcevxDpZKTFH9-qp   FIELD REPORTS & COMMENTS Call or Text your questions, or comments to 305-900-BEND or 305-900-2363 Or email BendRadioShow@gmail.com FOLLOW Facebook/Instagram: @thebendshow https://www.facebook.com/thebendshow SUBSCRIBE to The Bend YouTube Channel. Website: TheBendShow.com https://thebendshow.com/ #catchBECifyoucan #tiggerandbec #outdoors #travel #cowboys The Outdoors, Rural America, And Wildlife Conservation are Center-Stage. AND how is that? Because Tigger & BEC… Live This Lifestyle. Learn more about Jeff ‘Tigger' Erhardt & Rebecca Wanner aka BEC here: TiggerandBEC.com https://tiggerandbec.com/   WESTERN LIFESTYLE & THE OUTDOORS Jeff 'Tigger' Erhardt & Rebecca 'BEC' Wanner are News Broadcasters that represent the Working Ranch world, Rodeo, and the Western Way of Life as well as advocate for the Outdoors and Wildlife Conservation. Outdoorsmen themselves, this duo strives to provide the hunter, adventurer, cowboy, cowgirl, rancher and/or successful farmer, and anyone interested in agriculture with the knowledge, education, and tools needed to bring high-quality beef and the wild game harvested to your table for dinner. They understand the importance in sharing meals with family, cooking the fruits of our labor and fish from our adventures, and learning to understand the importance of making memories in the outdoors. Appreciate God's Country. United together, this duo offers a glimpse into and speaks about what life truly is like at the end of dirt roads and off the beaten path. Tigger & BEC look forward to hearing from you, answering your questions and sharing in the journey of making your life a success story. Adventure Awaits Around The Bend.  

Let's learn a bit about a particularly hazardous invasive plant to watch out for this summer. Podcast Topics Scouter John Kemp of the 5th Brant Troop joins Scouter Ken to discuss giant hogweed, an invasive plant that looks a bit like cow parsnip, and which grows near watercourses. Anyone out exploring in the bush should take care to avoid contact with giant hogweed; the sap damages the skin in a way that causes it to develop a severe burn when exposed to sunlight. John is also part of a group of volunteers who track growths of giant hogweed, and work with municipal authorities to eliminate it, and this episode is all about how to identify giant hogweed, how to report its presence, and how to be safe around it. Important giant hogweed resources: Google Drive folder of information and images EDDMapS Subscribe Follow Us and Subscribe Support Hit the Tip Jar | Scouting Stuff Stuff Be Our Guest Register as a Guest (like John did!) Send Feedback Email Us | Leave Us a Voice Message | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Discord | Telegram | Leave Us a Review Music Upbeat Rock (Good News), by Alex Grohl

April's Found Sound is the second part of an exploration into foraging. In this episode, Alice meets wild foods expert Miles Irving to forage for common hogweed and drink rosebay willowherb tea. Settle in for a relaxing ten minutes that will help you feel part of nature, wherever you are. Please note that common hogweed should only be eaten cooked and those with celery allergies should avoid it. Common Hogweed's lookalikes include the invasive ‘Giant Hogweed', which grows to much greater heights and should not be handled or eaten. If you plan to forage at home, always be 100% sure with your identification and that it is edible. This episode was produced by musician and sound artist Alice Boyd, featuring music by herself and The Breath. Thanks go to Miles Irving. 'As the Season Turns' is a podcast created by Ffern in collaboration with Lia Leendertz. Each episode, released on the first of the month, is a guide to what to look out for in the month ahead - from the sky above to the land below. Found Sounds are released on the middle Friday of the month, a little addition for listeners who want to feel that bit more immersed in nature. Ffern is an organic fragrance maker based in Somerset. You can learn more about Ffern's seasonal eau de parfum at ffern.co

Looks Unfamiliar is a podcast in which writer and occasional broadcaster Tim Worthington talks to a guest about some of the things that they remember that nobody else ever seems to.This time, in a special festive edition, Tim, Bob Fischer and Georgy Jamieson are all crowding into a paper chain-strewn local radio studio ready to take your calls and chat about some of the signs that Christmas was coming that you just don't seem to get any more. So that's Sleigh Ride by Leroy Anderson being used to back every single local news feature, School Christmas Fairs, weird decorations that were still in use long past their cultural sell-by date, Advent Calendars with no chocolate but plenty of pictures of Shepherds sort of leaning sideways a bit, the toy pages in 'The Catalogue', the bitter rivalry between the Christmas double issues of Radio Times and TV Times, Channel 4 flinging out angular festive fare like Santa Claus Conquers The Martians, festive replacements for the BBC Globe, The Middlesborough Methodist Tableau and much more besides. In a crammed Christmas Cracker of chat we'll be debating the physics of those big televisions with shutters on them, stressing the need for a Loose Cannon reconstruction of Bob's drawing of a Lord 'a'Leaping', attempting to beat Carol Vorderman at Yuletide Maths, deploring the steady stream of one-shoed shoplifters hopping out of Bobby Cannon's, refuting any and every suggestion that clowns have any business being anywhere near anything to do with Christmas, exploring the financial potential of an Advent Calendar with Willie Rushton behind every single door and querying the value of using Rentaghost as a sort of all-purpose philosophical yardstick. Call in and donate some 'Canned Goods' now!You can find more editions of Looks Unfamiliar at http://timworthington.org/. You can also find Bob on Looks Unfamiliar chatting about The Tom O'Connor Roadshow, Giant Hogweed, Can't Get A Ticket (For The World Cup) by Peter Dean, Glee Bars, J. Edward Oliver's ‘Abolish Tuesdays' and How To Be A Wally here, Eighties ‘Tabloid Celebrities', Accidentally Kelly Street by Frente!, The Two Ronnies' ‘Mileaway', Rude Food, Suggs On Saturday and School Folk Songs here and  Tucker's Luck, Pookiesnackenburger, We Wanna Be Famous by Buster Gobsmack And Eats Filth', game show contestants' occupations being booed by the studio audience and the lost ancient art of the paper plate and shaving foam Custard Pie here, and Georgy on Indoor League, Re-Joyce!, the The Animals In The Box sketch, the Paul Squire Fan Club, Pippa Dolls, Pig In The Middle and Good Winter Telly here.If you enjoy Looks Unfamiliar, you can help to support the show by buying us a coffee here. If the 'Chocolate Train' calls at your stop you get a Mocha. Sorry, it's the rules.

The Manor In The Woods By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed. Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest.  [[MORE]] It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well. ‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. ‘I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested. 'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion. Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years. Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him. Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness. Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village. Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself. As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills. 'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved. 'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?' 'Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own. 'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway. 'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like. 'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered. 'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her? 'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share. 'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.' 'Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing. 'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.' 'Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask. 'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed. 'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on. 'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before. 'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose. 'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard. 'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head. 'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host. 'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly. 'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow. 'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.' 'How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story. Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited. 'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet. Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished. 'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours. By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous. Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him. 'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?' Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband. 'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience. 'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.' With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor. 'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom. 'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?' 'Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?' 'No!' she gasped quickly. 'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?' 'I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body. 'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred. 'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.' 'Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness. 'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself. With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with. Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan. Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event. Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs. The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise. 'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making. 'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming. Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible. 'Is everything okay?' he asked gently. 'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead. 'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded. It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more. 'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.' 'I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate. 'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.' 'He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.' 'Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children? Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched. 'Hey,' he growled. 'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly. 'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed. 'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked. 'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went. 'Yes, in the photo on your phone.' 'Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.' 'Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web. 'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.' 'Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. To be continued in Part 3 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

The Manor In The Woods By FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed. Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest.  [[MORE]] It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well. ‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. ‘I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested. 'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion. Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years. Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him. Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness. Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village. Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself. As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills. 'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved. 'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?' 'Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own. 'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway. 'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like. 'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered. 'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her? 'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share. 'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.' 'Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing. 'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.' 'Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask. 'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed. 'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on. 'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before. 'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose. 'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard. 'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head. 'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host. 'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly. 'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow. 'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.' 'How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story. Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited. 'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet. Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished. 'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours. By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous. Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him. 'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?' Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband. 'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience. 'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.' With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor. 'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom. 'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?' 'Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?' 'No!' she gasped quickly. 'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?' 'I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body. 'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred. 'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.' 'Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness. 'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself. With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with. Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan. Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event. Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs. The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise. 'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making. 'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming. Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible. 'Is everything okay?' he asked gently. 'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead. 'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded. It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more. 'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.' 'I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate. 'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.' 'He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.' 'Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children? Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched. 'Hey,' he growled. 'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly. 'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed. 'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked. 'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went. 'Yes, in the photo on your phone.' 'Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.' 'Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web. 'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.' 'Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself. To be continued in Part 3 By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

The Manor In The WoodsBy FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed.Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well.‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. ‘I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested.‘Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion.Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years.Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him.Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness.Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village.Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself.As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills.'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved.'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?''Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own.'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway.'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like.'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered.'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her?'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share.'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.''Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing.'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.''Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask.'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed.'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on.'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before.'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose.'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard.'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head.'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host.'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly.'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow.'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.''How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story.Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited.'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet.Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished.'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours.By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous.Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him.'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?'Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband.'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience.'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.'With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor.'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom.'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?''Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?''No!' she gasped quickly.'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?''I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body.'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred.'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.''Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness.'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself.With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with.Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan.Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event.Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs.The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise.'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making.'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming.Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible.'Is everything okay?' he asked gently.'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead.'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded.It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more.'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.''I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate.'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.''He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.''Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children?Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched.'Hey,' he growled.'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly.'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed.'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked.'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went.'Yes, in the photo on your phone.''Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.''Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web.'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.''Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself.To be continued in Part 3By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

The Manor In The WoodsBy FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed.Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well.‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. ‘I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested.‘Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion.Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years.Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him.Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness.Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village.Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself.As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills.'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved.'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?''Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own.'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway.'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like.'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered.'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her?'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share.'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.''Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing.'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.''Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask.'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed.'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on.'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before.'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose.'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard.'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head.'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host.'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly.'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow.'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.''How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story.Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited.'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet.Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished.'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours.By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous.Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him.'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?'Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband.'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience.'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.'With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor.'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom.'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?''Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?''No!' she gasped quickly.'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?''I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body.'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred.'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.''Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness.'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself.With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with.Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan.Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event.Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs.The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise.'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making.'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming.Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible.'Is everything okay?' he asked gently.'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead.'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded.It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more.'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.''I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate.'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.''He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.''Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children?Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched.'Hey,' he growled.'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly.'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed.'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked.'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went.'Yes, in the photo on your phone.''Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.''Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web.'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.''Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself.To be continued in Part 3By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

Hurrah for the flower shows… Tom Pattinson's prepping his clipboard and getting ready for the competitions…Tom Cadwallender's here with good news about the bird that's the RSPB's emblem… and he's enjoying the wonders and diversity of our seabirds...The laburnum's a beautiful tree but why did it have to be removed from schoolgrounds? John and Dean from the Alnwick  Poison Garden will tell us more… and some tips on how not to gas yourself with cherry laurel...Steve Lowe's down by the river where he's tackling a rather nasty invader….Plus some top tips for the garden from Tom P… Support the showYou can follow Tom Pattinson, Steve and Tom Cadwallender and our wonderful guests and featured flowers, birds and projects on Twitter: @gardenersradio @TheNatureGarden and on Facebook: The Nature Garden. And you can tune in to our monthly live radio show on Saturdays at 11am on www.lionheartradio.com Or email us: gardenersradio@outlook.comThank you for your support!Music link: Gaia by Carl Cape Band on Amazon Music - Amazon.co.uk

A teenager in Tipperary had to be hospitalised after cutting down a highly toxic plant in his neighbour's garden. When doing some garden work, he didn't realise the huge plant was a giant hogweed, leaving him with severe burns and scarring. It's not native to Ireland, but has become quite common, so how can you identify it and what should you do if you see it growing in your garden or on the farm? Dr William Earle is from Invas Bio Security and he joined Sean on the show...

A teenager in Tipperary had to be hospitalised after cutting down a highly toxic plant in his neighbour's garden. When doing some garden work, he didn't realise the huge plant was a giant hogweed, leaving him with severe burns and scarring. It's not native to Ireland, but has become quite common, so how can you identify it and what should you do if you see it growing in your garden or on the farm? Dr William Earle is from Invas Bio Security and he joined Sean on the show...

Looks Unfamiliar is a podcast in which writer and occasional broadcaster Tim Worthington talks to a guest about some of the things that they remember that nobody else ever seems to.Joining Tim this time is broadcaster and writer Bob Fischer, who's roaming the streets doing vox pops asking if anyone remembers Grange Hill spinoff Tucker's Luck, post-punk bin-clatterers Pookiesnackenburger, We Wanna Be Famous by Buster Gobsmack And Eats Filth who are not in any way the That's Life! team in disguise as 'punks', game show contestants' occupations being booed by the studio audience and the lost ancient art of the paper plate and shaving foam Custard Pie. Along the way we'll be meeting a Trade Union Uncle Fester, listening to a Polite King Kurt, trying to avoid being scammed by a Sicilian Jeremy Corbyn and a Blue Diana Dors, watching Jack Rosenthal's Play Your Cards Right, and debating whether Pearl Jam would have been improved by a well-timed plate of shaving foam in Eddie Vedder's face.You can find more editions of Looks Unfamiliar at http://timworthington.org/. You can also find Bob on Looks Unfamiliar talking about  The Tom O'Connor Roadshow, Giant Hogweed, Can't Get A Ticket (For The World Cup) by Peter Dean, Glee Bars, J. Edward Oliver's ‘Abolish Tuesdays' and How To Be A Wally here and Eighties ‘Tabloid Celebrities', Accidentally Kelly Street by Frente!, The Two Ronnies' ‘Mileaway', Rude Food, Suggs On Saturday and School Folk Songs here.If you enjoy Looks Unfamiliar, you can help to support the show by buying us a coffee here. Although if you're Alan from Tucker's Luck, you probably haven't got enough ten pences for one.There's more about the weird world of BBC Records And Tapes in Top Of The Box, available in paperback here or from the Kindle Store here.

Over the last fortnight fire crews across the UK have been tackling wildfires as dry weather and high temperatures combine. Experts says they're going to become more frequent. We ask how land can be managed to help avoid them in future. Rural communities often lack a decent broadband connection. Under the government's levelling up agenda there is a commitment to connect parts of rural Britain to ultra fast broadband, through Project Gigabit. As part of the scheme, homes and businesses can apply for up to £4,500 to help to cover installation costs. The money is applied for on behalf of the customer by a broadband supplier, often a smaller, independent network provider but many of them are under financial pressure. People living in West Wales are now calling for urgent action because the company that was supposed to connect them, went into administration. All week we're looking at sheep. Farmers in Scotland having been taking part in a trial where sheep are used to control giant hogweed - an invasive alien plant which can overwhelm native plants by its vigorous growth. Its sap is also toxic to human skin, leaving blisters and long term sensitivity to UV. Sheep however love nibbling it and are being used to stop it spreading. Presenter = Anna Hill Producer = Rebecca Rooney

Christmas Passions: Part 2The Manor In The WoodsBy FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed.Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well.‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. ‘I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested.'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion.Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years.Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him.Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness.Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village.Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself.As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills.'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved.'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?''Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own.'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway.'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like.'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered.'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her?'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share.'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.''Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing.'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.''Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask.'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed.'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on.'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before.'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose.'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard.'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head.'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host.'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly.'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow.'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.''How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story.Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited.'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet.Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished.'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours.By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous.Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him.'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?'Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband.'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience.'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.'With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor.'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom.'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?''Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?''No!' she gasped quickly.'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?''I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body.'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred.'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.''Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness.'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself.With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with.Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan.Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event.Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs.The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise.'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making.'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming.Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible.'Is everything okay?' he asked gently.'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead.'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded.It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more.'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.''I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate.'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.''He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.''Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children?Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched.'Hey,' he growled.'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly.'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed.'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked.'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went.'Yes, in the photo on your phone.''Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.''Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web.'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.''Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself.To be continued in Part 3By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

Christmas Passions: Part 2The Manor In The WoodsBy FenellaAshworth. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.The landscape was almost entirely white now and dusk was starting to descend with surprising haste. As they walked, Emily observed how their route was bordered by thick, low hedges, laden with frosted, blood-red hawthorn berries and holly leaves; one of the few plants that remained green, within a mass of death and decay which mid-winter always conveyed.Continuing along the path, they soon found themselves submerged in a dark, dense coniferous forest. It was deathly quiet here, the evergreen trees packed so tightly that only the lightest sprinkling of dusty snow had so far been able to penetrate the shadowy depths. And yet the temperature seemed to have dropped even further. Emily felt a momentary waver in the high levels of confidence she'd shown, by accompanying Sam. She quietly questioned whether her normally good instincts were continuing to serve her well.‘Still cold?' Sam asked, picking up a little on her apprehension. Unable to voice any words, she simply nodded in response. ‘I always find singing warms me up. If you'll join me?' he requested.'Sure,' she croaked, surprised at his suggestion.Causing a sudden jolt of pleasure to travel up her spine, Sam began to sing in a soft, clear voice, filling Emily's imagination with the aroma of chestnuts roasting over a gently crackling, open fire. How was it possible that this man was making her feel an excitement for Christmas that she had barely felt since childhood? And certainly not in the past few years.Immediately recalling the lyrics, as though they were pre-programmed into her very being, she shyly joined in with him.Although hesitant at first, the two of them quickly relaxed. They rattled off all manner of Christmas songs from 'White Christmas' and 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer' through to 'I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus'. The tunes were often accompanied by much guffawing, when they started to make up their own lyrics in the absence of knowing the correct ones, as well as adding in all manner of questionable vocal percussion. Consequently, it felt like no time at all before they were passing out of the thick canopy of trees and back into the white, snowy wilderness.Their singing naturally petered out as they trudged around the edge of a huge field which provided a much less intimate setting for vocal melodies, or lack thereof. Indeed, it would have been drowned out by the unmistakable noise of squawking pheasants and distant shotguns filling the air. Skirting beside a river, the looming silhouettes of Giant Hogweed could be seen rising out of the mist, before they turned a sharp corner to follow an alternative footpath which led them directly into a churchyard. Too tired now to be spooked by the lopsided gravestones rising creepily out of the mist, Emily simply kept her head down and focused on Sam's boots, which marched just ahead of her along the narrow path. It was all but dark by the time they wearily emerged into the main body of the village.Emily noticed that parts of the main road through the village had been cleared by helpful residents. However, as the temperatures began to plummet once more, sheet ice had formed on the exposed sections, making it more dangerous than ever. Therefore, instead of slipping and sliding her way along the icy road, Emily tucked in behind Sam and followed the channel that his footsteps had made through the deep snow. It was a route which required more strenuous effort but, on the positive side, was less likely to see her fall arse over tit, and make a complete fool of herself.As they fought their way onwards, Emily found her attention drawn to a huge, eighteenth century manor house, complete with lead-latticed windows and two smoking chimneys at either end of a long, bowing roof. Every light was blazing and a low pulse of music echoed from an open downstairs window. The place was a flurry of activity; the front door wide open, as caterers carrying various trays and boxes continuously made their way across the threshold. Whoever lived there clearly had no respect for the electricity or heating bills.'Really well done. We've made it,' murmured Sam, sounding relieved.'Here?' asked Emily, doing a double take. 'This is your Aunt's house?''Yeah,' confirmed Sam, gently dusting away the snow which had accumulated on her shoulders, before turning his attention towards his own.'I was assuming she was a little old lady, living in a flat perhaps,' admitted Emily, her eyes wide with astonishment, as they made their way up the sweeping driveway.'She'll love it, when she hears that,' laughed Sam, pulling off his gloves to reveal large, strong hands with clean, neatly-trimmed nails. Emily froze. In that instant, all of her attention was directed towards him, as those same hands began to unwind the scarf wrapped around his face. At last, she would see what he looked like.'Well, please don't mention it then,' she stuttered.'What's it worth?' he teased, leaving Emily all but speechless. Was he flirting with her?'Darlings!' cried a woman who appeared on the doorstep. 'You poor things! How awful! Come inside!' Emily stared at her in disbelief; in her sixties, the woman that greeted them was tall, slender, elegant and incredibly attractive. She was adorned with silk scarves, expensive jewellery and an expression of uninhibited delight, as though she knew a very great secret that she couldn't wait to share.'Emily, this is my Aunt Rosamunde,' introduced Sam proudly. 'Aunt, this is Emily Jones.''Rose, to my friends,' she explained, putting her arm around Emily and drawing her into the warmth of her home. 'Of which you already are.' Emily found herself unsure of where to look. Part of her wanted to soak up the interior of the amazing house into which she was now being led, but equally, she was desperate to find out what lay beneath Sam's exterior layers of clothing.'Oh, Sammie, Darling? Before you get too comfortable, ' Rose added, glancing backwards. Excruciatingly, her words made him pause in his partial state of undress, just as he was about to remove his hat and scarf. 'Please could you grab another wheelbarrow full of logs from the woodshed and put them in the boot room? I'm sure we'll run out otherwise.''Only on the condition that you look after Emily, while I'm gone,' he stated, before looking directly at Emily. 'If that's okay with you, of course?' he asked. She nodded shyly in response, touched that he'd bothered to ask.'Of course I'm going to look after her!' the older lady exclaimed.'Then, of course, I will get you some more logs, Auntie Rosie,' he teased, walking once again into the cold evening and pulling his gloves back on.'Oh! Get away with you, you cheeky boy!' exclaimed Rose with a chuckle. 'He always calls me that whenever I accidentally revert back to his childhood nickname. He knows full well it makes me sound like I'm a hundred years old,' she explained, hanging up Emily's dripping coat and leading her through to the kitchen. Not unexpectedly, the kitchen was incredible; a huge room, with painted white walls, infilled with thick black beams and bordered by a selection of Welsh dressers and overflowing granite work surfaces. Against one wall stood an enormous navy blue Aga throwing out a serious amount of much-welcome heat. Meanwhile, the centre of the room was taken up with a scrubbed pine table and chairs which looked as though they had served the needs of several generations before.'Now, let's get you defrosted. How about a nice warming drink?' asked Rose.'That would be wonderful,' admitted a lightly shivering Emily, subtly making her way towards the Aga, to share some of its precious warmth. 'A coffee would be lovely if you have one.' Almost unnoticed, one of the catering ladies who was silently floating around the room, flicked a switch to set the coffee machine into action and laid out two coffee cups, cream and sugar on the table. Meanwhile, Rose had marched to the back of the room and was scrabbling around in a cupboard.'Or how about something a bit stronger?' she asked, waving a bottle of Whiskey above her head, whilst wiggling her eyebrows in Emily's direction. 'You could have an Irish coffee, best of both worlds?' she suggested with a smile. Giggling, Emily shook her head.'Just a coffee would be great, for now,' she added, receiving a nod of approval from her host.'Of course, you're right,' agreed Rose, making her way back to the table and pouring out their coffees from the jug which had seamlessly been delivered. Emily accepted the welcome beverage, wrapping her frozen hands around the cup and gratefully inhaling the steam. 'We should definitely pace ourselves. My dear, late husband would have said just the same,' she confessed, smiling fondly.'I'm sorry,' said Emily sadly, as she received confirmation that Rose was indeed a widow.'Oh, my dear,' she said warmly, laying her dainty hand over one of Emily's and squeezing gently. 'I knew love in my lifetime. True love, the kind that inspires people to write songs and write books and do all manner of other glorious things. So I absolutely forbid you to feel sorry for me.''How wonderful,' murmured Emily, sighing with deep contentment. 'Would you tell me about him?' And with great delight, Rose did just that. As she launched into the story of how they first met, Emily provided a completely rapt audience, wanting no more in that instant, than to hear their true love story.Sam returned a short while later, to find Emily and his aunt sitting cosily in the kitchen, holding hands, giggling outrageously and chatting ten to the dozen. Neither of them had noticed his arrival, so with great pleasure he simply stood and observed the two women, between which an indisputable spark of friendship had already been ignited.'Darling!' Rose exclaimed with delight. With her concentration broken, Emily twisted around in her seat to be confronted by a sight that she knew was already being meticulously downloaded into her memory, to remain imprinted there for the rest of time. Quite simply, the most gorgeous man she had ever set eyes on, was leaning against the oak-framed doorway watching them. Utterly relaxed, with his arms folded, it was his wide smile, piercing dark eyes and perfectly messed up dark hair that immediately caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes dared to drop down and devour the rest of him. She processed every tiny detail, from his lithe body and strong forearms, right down to the thick navy blue socks he wore, stretched over his large feet.Unable to drag her eyes away, Emily's gaze tracked his progress as he loped across the room, to grab another mug from the cupboard. Although she caught only a fleeting glimpse, unbelievably his back view seemed comparable to the front. Gulping in disbelief, she looked across at Rose for support. Her host seemed unusually quiet; half smiling, half grimacing, apparently incapable of speech. Glancing down at the table, a horrified Emily realised she was tightly clenching Rose's hand. Too good-mannered to complain, relief flooded across the older lady's face when the firm grip was eventually relinquished.'Sorry,' whispered Emily. Apologising had the added bonus of making her aware that, until that point, her mouth had been hanging open in utter shock. Swiftly rectifying her vacant look, Emily clamped her mouth tightly shut and tried to breathe as calmly as possible through her nose. There wasn't anything she could do about her flushed face, but with any luck, that could be blamed on the extremes of temperature she'd been subjected to over the past few hours.By this time, the man had joined them at the table and was pouring a steaming coffee into his own mug. Emily subconsciously licked her lips as his mouth wrapped around the cup and swallowed with contentment. The low groan he made, as that initial sip slid down his throat, caused a twinge to flutter across her tingling, already swollen pussy. This man was beyond gorgeous.Emily's mind was whirring, unable to believe he might actually be Sam. Surely this couldn't be the man she'd spent the last two hours joking and chatting with, whilst methodically annihilating Nat King Cole's back catalogue, could it? She would never have mildly flirted and nonchalantly shared a chocolate bar in the snow with a man who looked like, well, THAT. She shuffled slightly in her seat as a surge of blood pumped towards her abdomen. And then his familiar tone filled the room and her question remained unanswered no longer. God help her, it was definitely him.'It looks like you two are destined to be great friends,' he observed wryly. Neither of the two women responded; Emily because she was speechless, Rose because she was delightedly watching Emily's reaction to the arrival of her favourite nephew. 'So, what's the big joke?' pressed Sam. 'You were laughing hysterically a moment ago and now there's nothing but silence. What's up?'Recognising the signs of Emily's distress, Rose stepped in to help. She had personally only observed a reaction like this once before in her life, decades earlier. It was etched on her heart because it was the precious night that she had met and fallen in love with her beloved husband.'I was just sharing some stories about dear Arthur,' explained Rose swiftly, but she had already lost her audience.'You're trembling,' observed Sam, looking kindly at Emily. 'Come on,' he said, taking another swig of his beverage before standing up. 'I'll show you to your room. Then you can have a nice long bath and warm up again.'With both of them gazing at her, as though waiting for her to take some form of action, Emily felt she had little choice but to follow Sam out of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely convinced the cold was responsible for making her tremble, but that wasn't something Sam needed to know. Instead, she allowed him to lead her through the house. Together, they ascended the grand staircase before turning off a long corridor.'This is you,' he explained, making his way into a large bedroom with a four-poster bed. Her bag had already been delivered and placed in a wing-backed armchair. 'And the en suite is just through there,' he added, pointing towards an adjoining bathroom.'Wow, it's amazing,' she croaked, overwhelmed by such a beautiful room. 'Thank you so much. Are there enough bathrooms for you to take a bath too?''Why do you ask?' he teased. 'Would you rather share?''No!' she gasped quickly.'Is everything okay, Emily?' he asked with concern. 'You seem different compared to earlier,  more tense?''I'm fine. Thanks,' she said a little flustered. Apart from the fact she'd surmised he had children and so probably a wife, it really wouldn't do to let him know the overwhelming effect he was having on her body.'Okay, if you're sure,' he replied, clearly not convinced. 'Help yourself to whatever you need and I'll see you downstairs when you're ready. And don't rush, I know from experience that sometimes, only a long, luxurious bath will do when you're chilled to the bone. There's tons of hot water,  always is, so don't hold back. My aunt doesn't know the meaning of the word economising!' He was just closing the door behind him when a final thought occurred.'Oh, and don't forget to call your folks,' he added, walking back into the room and handing his mobile phone to her. 'The four-digit keycode to unlock the screen is my age,' he grinned. 'See if you can guess it.''Seriously?' she protested, temporarily knocked-out of her shyness.'Yep,' he laughed. 'I'll give you a clue. The first two numbers are zero, zero. Don't forget to tell your parents you're staying with a perfectly respectable lady. Probably best not to mention her far from respectable nephew.' With a wink that made Emily's cheeks and neck flush, their eyes met lingeringly before Sam closed the door firmly behind himself.With the huge bath gradually filling, Emily took Sam's phone with a significant level of apprehension and tried to guess his keycode. Starting with an estimate of thirty-five, which was her own age, Emily gradually added one year until the phone unlocked at zero zero three nine. With a level of willpower she was unaware she possessed, Emily entered her parents' home phone number, without once scrolling through his photographs, previous texts, or any other personal information Sam had willingly entrusted her with.Her parents' relief when they realised their daughter was safe was palpable. Indeed, it only served to emphasise how right Emily had been not to contact them, before she could give them good news. Providing as much information as she could, Emily described the events of the day and her current location and plans. With a promise to try her best to see them tomorrow, although she had no idea how, she rang off and sank into the welcoming, deep, steamy bubble bath with a satisfied groan.Following several top ups of hot water, during which time she could hear more and more partygoers gathering downstairs, Emily eventually stepped out from the bath, her cold, aching body now warm, supple and relaxed. The sounds of excited chatter, clinking glasses and increasingly raucous laughter echoed up through the floorboards below. Wrapped in a thick, soft bath sheet, she wandered back into the opulent bedroom and emptied her rucksack. Her clothing choices were very limited; she was going to have to wear what she'd purchased for Christmas day. Having dressed in the dark-green, velvet dress, coupled with her favourite lace underwear, Emily felt classy, elegant and unsurprisingly sexy. It was either that or jeans and, glancing out of the window to see what some of the late arrivals were wearing, it didn't look like a jeans kind of event.Once she was satisfied with her physical appearance, Emily turned her attention to her questionable emotional state. It was time to give herself a thoroughly stern talking to. In all probability, Sam wasn't single. Besides which, he was utterly, gloriously, perfectly gorgeous. Only in her very wildest dreams would she end up with a man like that. Furthermore, it was clear he had enjoyed spending time with her on their walk, when she'd been behaving like her normal self. So acting like some love sick teenager, incapable of rational conversation, wasn't going to be helpful on any level. It would be much more sensible to just relax and enjoy their limited time together as friends. And with that mantra firmly lodged in her mind, Emily took a deep breath, retrieved his phone from her bed and drifted downstairs.The party was a roaring success. Even though the bad weather had prevented many from attending, the majority of the village had still turned out to help make it a night to remember. Emily found herself chatting non-stop, not just to Rose and Sam whom she naturally gravitated towards, but to an array of other guests, many of which were delightful company. Towards the end of the evening, Sam sidled up behind her, taking her quite by surprise.'Dance with me?' he murmured into her ear. Looking around to see his smiling face, she felt her stomach drop with lust. Up close and personal, dressed in black tie, he truly was faint-making.'Sure,' Emily replied, in the calmest tone she could muster. She watched in astonishment as he picked up her hand, stroked her sensitive palm gently with his thumb and led her towards the dance floor at the far end of the house. The beat was slow, sultry and purposeful as 'Please come home for Christmas' oozed out of the speakers. Gently, Sam pulled Emily's body against his own. In a heightened state of bliss, Emily lay her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. Revolving slowly around the room, they were aware of no one but each other. With her hands placed properly around his back, she could feel his taut muscles moving beneath her fingertips and the easy sway of his hips against hers. It was, quite simply, overwhelming.Disappointment flooded her as the song naturally came to an end. When it was replaced by 'All I want for Christmas is you,' Sam readjusted his hold on her and continued to dance, causing Emily's heart to soar once more. With a wide smile, Emily was unable to prevent herself from gazing up at him, her admiration blatantly discernible.'Is everything okay?' he asked gently.'Everything's just perfect,' she replied, beaming. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head before laying his cheek against her forehead.'You look beautiful tonight,' he murmured matter-of-factly into her hair, as they continued to revolve around the floor. Those words had a devastating effect on Emily's pulse, which shot through the roof as a tingle of pleasure flooded every cell in her body. They danced all the way through the tracks that followed, until the final song of the evening began to play. When the chords of 'We wish you a Merry Christmas' boomed out of the speakers and the entire party seemed to cram into a single room, Emily and Sam were forced to step apart. The time for slow dancing had concluded.It was a little after midnight when all of the guests had finally departed and the elderly house fell still once more.'That was the best party ever!' Emily confided to Rose as she collapsed beside her on the sofa, in front of the gently crackling fire. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay.''I'm so pleased you enjoyed yourself, my dear. I saw you dancing with Sam,' she added mischievously, before taking a final sip from her mug of hot chocolate.'Yes,' admitted a blushing Emily. 'We danced.''He's a good boy, that one,' sighed Rose as she eased herself up to standing. 'Faithful, trustworthy and very, very decent. And now I absolutely must go to sleep, so I'll say good night, dear girl.''Good night,' echoed Emily, watching the older lady leave the room. But listening to the muffled hum of conversation between Rose and her nephew in the hallway, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of loss. Had Rose just warned her off Sam? Had she been trying to help her understand that he would not betray the trust of his partner; of his children?Emily gazed into the middle distance. Out of the window, thick snowflakes continued to fall silently from the dark sky. Lost in her own thoughts, she wasn't aware of Sam's presence, until he dropped down onto the sofa beside her. Luxuriously, he rolled his head around on his shoulders and stretched.'Hey,' he growled.'Hey,' she replied, glancing across at him. The look in his dark eyes, which danced and twinkled back at her in the firelight, forced her to inhale swiftly.'Bed time?' he asked. Emily nodded in agreement, with no appreciation as to whether he was making a statement or an offer. As they made their way out of the room and up the sweeping staircase, curiosity prevailed.'Won't your children miss you tonight?' Emily asked.'My children?' he clarified, turning off lamps as they went.'Yes, in the photo on your phone.''Ah, Sally and William? Probably not,' he explained. 'But I still have no doubt they'll be as excited as ever, by my arrival tomorrow. I've always spoilt my niece and nephew with an excessive amount of Christmas presents; they'll be pleased to discover that this year will be no exception.''Niece and nephew? Oh, right,' croaked Emily. They had come to a halt outside her bedroom door and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her eyes rose slowly upwards, on the off chance that a thoughtfully placed piece of mistletoe might make things easier. To her disappointment, there was only a dusty light fitting and a spider's web.'Well, good night Emily,' said Sam softly, dipping his head to her cheek and allowing his lips to brush across her soft skin. He stayed there for a beat longer than necessary before straightening up. Smiling down at her, he nodded his head decisively. 'Happy Christmas.''Happy Christmas,' she murmured to his departing back, unexpectedly overwhelmed by an acute sense of loss. On the other side of the corridor, he opened his own bedroom door, paused and turned back to face her. For a long moment, they gazed at each other, although their friendly smiles had all but disappeared. Somehow, over the course of the evening, their relationship had transformed into something more intimate, perilous and demanding of attention. Emily found herself unable to do anything other than stare back, utterly spellbound. Eventually, he sighed and nodded almost imperceptibly, before retiring into the bedroom and closing the door behind himself.To be continued in Part 3By FenellaAshworth for Literotica.

Mark Stephen and Rachel Stewart present Scotland Outdoors

Matt from The Growing Season chats with  Chris Walker about Giant Hogweed, its affects on humans and how to rid yourself of it. Listen to more of our content. CLICK HERE. 

Giant Hogweed, a large, flowering plant that used to be sought after for its attractiveness in English gardens, can cause serious burns and blisters. The DEC set up a hotline to report giant hogweed plants to ensure safe removal. To learn more, we spoke with Daniel Waldhorn, Giant Hogweed Information Line Coordinator. If you suspect you may have found giant hogweed you should take photos, note the location, and report the site to NYS DEC via email, or by calling the Giant Hogweed Information Line: 1-845-256-3111. More info: https://www.dec.ny.gov/animals/72766.html?fbclid=IwAR3ADoiHQCJel3xA4UbR0erR4WFDBjVuplKLucBBlHRRraQaQRg-uwabtJs Photo provided by Dept of Environmental Conservation

A Kent mum is calling for disposable barbecues to be banned from beaches after her son was badly injured. Alex, 12, stood on one that had been buried in the sand during a school trip to Camber Sands. The metal cut the back of his ankle, severing his Achilles tendon. Hear what his mum Lucy Gottelier has said about it and what she wants to see done. Also in today's podcast, if you moan about your children playing on their computers for too long - what do you think about them doing it at school? We're asking be because a school near Dartford is giving students the chance to get a BTEC qualification in competitive video gaming. Wilmington Academy is one of the first in the country to offer it - hear from a student and the principal. A community hub in Gravesend, which helps people of all ages with inclusivity has been nominated for a national diversity award. The Grand Healthy Living Centre helps tackle issues in society. Highly toxic plants, which can cause serious skin burns, have been found near a public footpath in East Malling. Giant Hogweed can grow to 15 feet tall and is also really dangerous for our pets. And in sport, hear from the Maidstone men who're training to row the Atlantic - despite never having rowed before. The pair are taking part in a challenge said to be the toughest in the world.

Whether you're more acquainted with the pesty plant or Batman's wiley nemesis, you probably know to stay away from anything by the name of Poison Ivy. In today's Skincast episode, hosts Luke Johnson, MD and Michelle Tarbox, MD explain why our skin reacts to poison ivy and poison oak, how to treat the rashes they cause, and what other types of plants you'll want to steer clear of (*cough* Giant Hogweed *cough*).

Today on Mushroom Hour we have the privilege of speaking with Monica Wilde. Monica is a forager, research herbalist and ethnobotanist. She lives in Scotland in a self-built wooden house on 4 organic acres where she is encouraging the growth of medicinal and foraging species to create a wild, teaching garden. She is also a Research Herbalist specializing in Lyme disease & co-infections, and a Fellow of the Linnean Society. Monica holds a Master's degree in Herbal Medicine, she is a Member of the Association of Forager and a Member of the British Mycological Society. I'm excited to learn from someone who embodies such deep natural wisdom on how to nourish both our bodies and Gaia through wild food and wild medicine.   TOPICS COVERED:    Childhood in Kenya & Connection to the Wild  Disconnection in Post-WWII Western Society  The Wisdom of Plants  The Language & Biosemiotics of Plants  Tenets of Herbalism   Ancient Roots of Herbalism  Herbalism and Pharmaceuticals   Money as a Religion  The Body as a Collection of Microbiomes  Understanding Lyme Disease  Shepherding Wild Plants & Mushrooms  Traditional Ecological Knowledge  Reciprocity with the Natural World  Lessons Learned from a Wild Food Diet  EPISODE RESOURCES:   Monica Wilde Website: https://monicawilde.com/  Monica Wilde Twitter: https://twitter.com/monicawilde  Monica Wilde IG: https://www.instagram.com/monicawilde/  Wild Medicine Substack: https://wildmedicine.substack.com/  Napiers Herbalists: https://napiers.net/  Monascus purpureus (Red Rice Yeast): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monascus_purpureus  Heracleum sphondylium (Common Hogweed): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heracleum_sphondylium  Heracleum mantegazzianum (Giant Hogweed): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heracleum_mantegazzianum  Zach Bush: https://zachbushmd.com/  Lyme Disease: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lyme_disease  Łukasz Łuczaj: http://thewildfood.org/  Pilosella officinarum (Mouse Ear Hawkweed): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pilosella_officinarum  Association of Foragers: https://foragers-association.org/  Ganoderma applanatum (Artist Conk): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ganoderma_applanatum  

Artist Song Time Album Year Number10 Genesis The Return of the Giant Hogweed 8:10 Nursery Cryme 1971 Number9 Genesis Eleventh Earl of Mar 7:38 Wind & Wuthering 1976 Number8 Genesis Dance on a Volcano 5:58 A Trick of the Tail 1976 Number7 Genesis The Musical Box 10:21 Nursery Cryme 1971 Number6 Genesis Dancing with the […]

Whether it's homemade herbicides or details on how to 'pick & squish' Japanese Beetles, listeners are tuning in. Pruning Clematis, cherry trees, and creeping Phlox are covered. As well as identifying Giant Hogweed and detailing what to do next! Listen live every Saturday at 9am on Zoomer Radio

Anchors weigh you down, cut loose with your news. This episode was published June 4, 2021. IN THIS EPISODE: Main News What does the Sovereign Citizen movement have to do with Giant Hogweed? Breaking News - Is today the day for the bidet in the USA? - You know how to spread COVID don't you? You just pucker your lips and blow. Sports (Uno) Emotional Weather (Natty, Ratty and Batty) Food Crime (Hot Sauce Marketing) Podcast Shopping Network (The Waving Flag) State Up (Iowa) VISIT OUR WEBSITE: personandpersonshow.com See Gene & Greg's Blogs, listen to full episodes and more! Email us: personandpersonshow@gmail.com Call us: 541-249-5933 Find us on Twitter: @anchorpersons Our Patreon: Person and Person Please subscribe, like, rate and review our show!  Listen to us on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts or the podcatcher of your choice! Spots in this week's episode: Preroll - Brose  

Today we celebrate the man who is remembered in one of the garden’s sweetest summer annuals - the lobelia. We'll also learn about the man who invented the telephone - he also happened to love gardening and the natural world. We hear a great memory about rhubarb from one of my favorite garden books from 2020, and the author is an incredible artist to boot! We Grow That Garden Library™ with a book to help you develop positive, meaningful mantras in your life. And then we’ll wrap things up with some little-known facts about the birth flower for March.   Subscribe Apple | Google | Spotify | Stitcher | iHeart To listen to the show while you're at home, just ask Alexa or Google to “Play the latest episode of The Daily Gardener Podcast.” And she will. It's just that easy.   The Daily Gardener Friday Newsletter Sign up for the FREE Friday Newsletter featuring: A personal update from me Garden-related items for your calendar The Grow That Garden Library™ featured books for the week Gardener gift ideas Garden-inspired recipes Exclusive updates regarding the show Plus, each week, one lucky subscriber wins a book from the Grow That Garden Library™ bookshelf.   Gardener Greetings Send your garden pics, stories, birthday wishes, and so forth to Jennifer@theDailyGardener.org   Curated News Planning and Designing a Productive Vegetable Garden | The Ukiah Daily Journal | Melinda Myers   Facebook Group If you'd like to check out my curated news articles and original blog posts for yourself, you're in luck. I share all of it with the Listener Community in the Free Facebook Group - The Daily Gardener Community. So, there’s no need to take notes or search for links. The next time you're on Facebook, search for Daily Gardener Community, where you’d search for a friend... and request to join. I'd love to meet you in the group.   Important Events March 3, 1616 Today is the birthday of the  Flemish physician and botanist Mathias de l'Obel ("ma-TEE-us dew Lew-bell"). Mathias practiced medicine in England. And among his accomplishments, Mathias was the first botanist to recognize the difference between monocots and dicots. Today we remember Mathias de l'Obel ("LEW-bell") with the Lobelia plant. Before researching Mathias, I pronounced obelia as "LOW- beel- ya". But now, knowing the French pronunciation of his name, I will say it "LEW-beel-ya." It's a subtle little change (LOW vs. LEW), but after all, the plant is named in Mathias's honor. Now, for as lovely as the Lobelia is, the common names for Lobelia are terribly unattractive and they include names like Asthma Weed, Bladderpod, Gagroot, Pukeweed, Vomit Wort, and  Wild Tobacco. These common names for Lobelia reflect that Lobelia is very toxic to eat. Despite its toxicity, Lobelia is one of the sweetest-looking plants for your summer containers. This dainty annual comes in pink, light blue, and royal blue. Personally, every year, I buy two flats of light blue Lobelias. But no matter the color you choose, lobelias are a favorite of pollinators. The delicate blossoms frequently host bees, butterflies, and moths, which only adds to their charm.   March 3, 1847 Today is the birthday of the Scottish-born inventor, scientist, and engineer credited with inventing and patenting the first practical telephone, Alexander Graham Bell. In 1855, Alexander co-founded the American Telephone and Telegraph Company, known today as AT&T. And although most people know about Alexander's story with regard to the telephone, most people are unaware that Alexander had a love for gardening and the natural world.  Early on in his childhood, Alexander was drawn to the natural world, and he collected botanical specimens and conducted experiments. After attending school for only five years, Alexander took personal control over his lifelong love of learning. Growing up, Alexander's best friend, Ben Herdman, was from a family who owned a flour mill. When Alexander was 12 years old, he created a device that rotated paddles equipped with nail brushes and the family used this dehusking machine in their mill operations for years. As a gesture of thanks, Ben’s father made a space for the boys where they could invent to their heart's content. Now many people are unaware that Alexander’s mother was deaf, and Alexander had dedicated himself to helping the deaf his entire life. As a young man, Alexander opened a school for teachers of the deaf. While he was in Boston, he even worked with a young Helen Keller. Later on, he worked with a young woman named Mabel Hubbard, who became deaf as a child from scarlet fever. After five years of courtship, Alexander and Mabel married. At the ceremony, Alex presented Mabel with a special wedding present: nearly all the shares of the stock in a company called Bell Telephone. Alexander and Mabel shared a lifelong love of gardening. The couple built a summer home in the charming village of Baddeck, Canada, in 1889. Mabel would stroll the neighborhoods and ask about the plants that were growing in the gardens. Generous and kind, Mabel donated many flowers to the people of Baddeck. Today the Alexander Graham Bell National Historic Site features a lovely garden that boasts flowers, shrubs, and trees - including a magnolia which was a favorite of Mabel’s. Recently Candian scientists revealed that they suspect that Alexander may have planted Heracleum mantegazzianum, commonly known as Giant Hogweed, in his garden. Even now, there remains an impressive cluster of dangerous giant hogweed near Baddeck. The sap of Giant hogweed causes sensitivity to sunlight and UV rays, which can lead to severe skin and eye problems — including blindness, which would have been very upsetting to Alexander. And, here’s a little-known fact about Alexander: The gardener and children’s book illustrator Tasha Tudor learned to love gardening from Alexander Graham Bell. Tasha’s well-connected family had visited Alexander at his home in Maryland when he was a young single man. Tasha was five years old, and she recalled that fell in love with Alexander’s roses during that first visit. Tasha always credited the vision of Alexander’s rosebeds with inspiring her decision to become a gardener.   Unearthed Words Every Sunday, my immediate and extended family gathered for dinner at my grandpa's house. Everyone congregated in the kitchen, and there was always a television on in the corner. There was a smiling pink plastic pig from RadioShack that sat in the refrigerator and oinked at you when you opened the door. We giggled in front of the antique glass cabinet, peeking in at the vintage salt and pepper shakers shaped like boobs that were supposed to be hidden. It felt like an adventure to explore the house and play with old decorations and trinkets. When it was summertime, we gathered on the back porch, where there were mismatched chairs and benches and another television in the corner. A baseball game was always on, and you could hear the hum and buzz of a bug zapper in the background. Rhubarb grew on a small knoll near the house. My cousin, sister, and I were told not to eat the big, broad green leaves, but we did pick and snack on the ruby-pink stalks straight from the ground, our mouths puckering from the intense sourness. — Katie Vaz (“Voz”), My Life in Plants, Rhubarb (Rheum rhabarbarum)   Grow That Garden Library Find Your Mantra by Aysel Gunar  This book came out in 2019, and the subtitle is Inspire and Empower Your Life with 75 Positive Affirmations. In this inspiring book with a delightful botanical cover, Aysel takes you through the steps to developing positive, meaningful mantras in your life. Now, this is not a gardening book, but it is about developing aspects of life that many gardeners seek: peace, love, happiness, and strength for your own personal journey. Aysel’s book is full of beautiful illustrations and design. You’ll find plenty of positivity and mindfulness. Aysel encourages us to be present, embrace love and light, choose joy, and recognizing our blessings. If you're looking for something for yourself or a friend, Aysel’s book is truly a gift. This book is 144 pages of affirmations to help you be more present, free yourself from worry and anxiety, and embrace all that is good in your life - like our gardens and our many blessings - and lead a more rewarding life. You can get a copy of Find Your Mantra by Aysel Gunar and support the show using the Amazon Link in today's Show Notes for around $7   Today’s Botanic Spark Reviving the little botanic spark in your heart The birth flower for March birthdays is the Daffodil. Daffodils are also the 10th-anniversary flower. A bouquet of Daffodils means happiness and hope, but a single Daffodil is an omen of bad luck in your future. In England, back in 1889, the Reverend George Herbert Engleheart began breeding Daffodils - some 700 varieties in his lifetime. Fans of ‘Beersheba,’ ‘Lucifer,’ or ‘White Lady,’ have Reverend Engleheart to thank. George spent every spare minute breeding, and his parishioners would often find a note tacked to the church door saying, “No service today, working with Daffodils.” Daffodils were highly valued in ancient times because the Romans believed that the sap could be used for healing. Today we know that all parts of the Daffodil are toxic, and the sap is toxic to other flowers, which is why you must soak Daffs separately for 24 hours before you add them to a bouquet. And if you do this, don’t recut the stems because that will release more sap, and then you’ll have to start all over. If you’re wondering, the compounds in Daffodil sap are lycorine and calcium oxalate crystals. Found in the leaves and stems of the Daffodil. the calcium oxalate crystals can irritate your skin, so be careful handling Daffodils. The toxic nature of Daffodils means that deer and other animals won’t eat them - unlike other spring-flowering bulbs like tulips. And contrary to popular opinion, daffs can be carefully divided in the early spring. Once the soil has started to thaw, you can take divisions from large clumps and then pop them into new places in the garden. As long as the bulbs are carefully lifted with plenty of soil attached to the roots and promptly replanted, they will still bloom this year. Generally, it is advised to separate and move bulbs after they have bloomed, but that can push the task into early summer when there is already so much to do. Finally, there's really one poem that is regarded as the Mother of All Daffodil Poems, and it's this one. I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden Daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the Daffodils. — William Wordsworth, English Romantic poet, I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud   Thanks for listening to The Daily Gardener. And remember: "For a happy, healthy life, garden every day."

In this fortnight's exciting episode, we talk with special guest Dr. Marcia D. Nichols of the University of Minnesota Rochester about food courts, handwashing, why you would dress a sexy frog in pink taffeta pants, the supernatural power of the female imagination, and why delivering babies when you're covered in cadaver goo is bad for everyone, but mostly the ladies. Nancy tells us all about 14-foot-tall greenish-purple parsnips that burn your skin off, which sounds like an episode of The Outer Limits but is an actually real thing. Also we discuss catching fish in Animal Crossing, donating your removed body parts to the Mütter Museum, dolphin Starfleet officers, and joining the great William Shatner in our inexorable slide down the garbage chute of biological obsolescence.Show notes:Fixing Women by Marcia D. Nichols, PhD (which is not out yet as of this podcast release, but when it is you will be able to find it here):https://books.google.com/books/about/Fixing_Women.html?id=6Za9zQEACAAJThe Litany Against Fear:https://dune.fandom.com/wiki/Litany_Against_FearEverything I Do, I Do With William Shatner:https://open.spotify.com/track/5axdO3LBFeGZHcekYA9pD2(fair warning, the song gets a bit racy in spots)Our opening and closing themes are Fearless First by Kevin McLeod, used under a Creative Commons license

Humans can be very visual creatures... we see what we want to see. That can mean a profile on 'Plenty of Fish' or even a distraction in our mystery cases you are asked to solve!

What the world needs in these troubled times is someone to blame. A scapegoat or, in this instance, a scapepangolin.For it turns out everyone's favourite curly, scaley, insect-snuffling-y, heavily trafficked nature weirdos are very much in the dock for unleashing Covid-19 on the world. But is all as it seems? Dave has read some SCIENCE, and reveals all. Also this week, an absolute thug of a plant. If you encounter Giant Hogweed, for pete's sake just give it whatever it wants and back away quietly.Sustainababble is your friendly environment podcast, out weekly. Theme music by the legendary Dicky Moore – @dickymoo. Sustainababble logo by the splendid Arthur Stovell. Ecoguff read out by Arabella. Love the babble? Bung us a few pennies at www.patreon.com/sustainababble. MERCH: sustainababble.teemill.com Available on iTunes, Spotify, Acast & all those types of things, or at sustainababble.fish. Visit us at @thebabblewagon and at Facebook.com/sustainababble. Email us at hello@sustainababble.fish.

This time we're listening to and talking about songs that are about science - my friend Alex and I discuss some underrated songs on their scientific accuracy. Enjoy! If you are interested inlistening to the music discussed, you can find it here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/48Ll3FVjv1Xzw7dmZctEy9?si=o-Hvht5MS8iLJXwOvp8t-A

A special collection of highlights from Looks Unfamiliar requested by you, the listener - featuring Bob Fischer on Giant Hogweed, Samira Ahmed on Havoc, Jenny Morrill on Boots Global Collection, Mitch Benn on Two Stage Self-Assembly Ice Cream Cones, Mark Thompson on A. Mazing Monsters, Vikki Gregorich And Jeff Lewis on The Last American, Justin Lewis on Orbit, Emma Burnell on Split Second, Gillian Kirby on Teletext After Hours, Phil Norman on The Country Life Christmas Box, Andy Lewis on Vintage Anti-Enoch Powell Graffiti, and Rae Earl on Cheese And Onion. You can find the full shows and many more editions of Looks Unfamiliar at http://timworthington.org/

The terms “herbarium” (singular) or “herbaria” (plural) may elicit visions of a lush tropical greenhouse… but in fact, herbaria are collections of dead plant specimens that have been collected over years, dried and pressed to large sheets of acid free paper for long-term storage in cabinets. These specimens are prepared and cared for using similar methods used for centuries by botanists and are important tools used for identifying various plants. In this episode, I met with Dr. Jordan Metzger on location at the Massey Herbarium of Virginia Tech University. We discussed the importance of herbarium collections in distinguishing edible from poisonous plants. Plus, we chat about an interesting and super dangerous member of the carrot family – the Giant Hogweed! About Jordan Metzger Dr. Jordan Metzger is the Curator of the Massey Herbarium at Virginia Tech. Jordan came to VPI after working at the University of Alaska Herbarium for ten years. His research has long focused on fern systematics, including his doctoral research on the circumboreal fern genus Cryptogramma.

(Elevator ding) Keith: Yes, yes, I know where I’m going, I know every fucking corridor in this place. (Curtain flashes open) Keith: Ohmigod Norman! I just wanted to apologise for… Norman? Are you awake? I think this might be my fault. I had the boys on detention on Saturdays for the last two months planting ‘Hogweed’. It can grow up to 14 feet tall! And for a toxic plant, Hogweed is surprisingly pretty. I last autumn planted my ‘Devil’s Trumpet’ seeds into the lough perimeter too! But- it was because- HEY! HEY! I can see you through the curtain! What are you looking at? Wubba: Wha? Uh… (Curtain flashes open) Keith: Oh it’s you! You’re still here. If you have damaged any one of my comics, I swear I will garrotte you with a cheese cutter. What? What are you staring at? Wubba: Don’t you stop. Keith: Don’t stop what? Staring? Are we having a staring competition now, here? Norman: Chisel, is that you? Keith: Yes, yes it is Norman. Hold on a moment. Wubba? Why is your bedsheet moving? Oh Portnoy’s complaint no! But both of your hands are in plain sight! What the- Wubba: Uuurnggfff. Fuuuucchhh.. Aw it’s thebest day in my life. Norman: Keith? Keith: Shut up Norman, busy here. Why are you crying Wubba? Wubba: I’m so fwukin’ happy. Waahahaha! Keith: You are a teenage-grade moron. Wubba: Aw, it feels so good. The semen is still drippin’ out the top of it. (Curtain flashes open) Floyd: Hey. Keith: What in Dawkin’s name are you-? Floyd: I came to apologise. (Curtain flashes open) Mauldy: Me too. Keith: Who are you? (Curtain again) Ace: What are you doing here, I thought you pissed off to do another deal? Mauldy: Shut your mouth. Floyd: Oh, you’re back? Keith: Ace? Brian? What is this; an exorcism? Floyd: Mr Tash, Norman, eh, I’m sorry. I took your medal. Woah, you look, where is your face? Anyway, I wanted to tell you. I took it… Sorry, Norman: (Starts to cry) Floyd: Stop, I didn’t mean- Keith: Why is everybody crying, has a famous rock star died inevitably young? Norman: Oh Floyd, you are not a bad boy, and you do not have to apologise to me. Floyd: No way man, I stole your medal, Norman: It is I who has to apologise to you. Floyd: It was in the lake, I uh found myself under the water and I saw it, and I took it. Keith: ‘Found myself under water?’ Floyd: Long story. Tash: I know… I threw it there. I couldn’t accept such an award. Floyd: But you saved me. Ace: But you were stealing from the school with this idiot. Keith: Stealing?! Mauldy: I’m not the idiot here. Tash: My god, why did you come here?! I told you not too! Keith: You know this recidivist? Mauldy: So, that was the medal you got for me burning down the school? (Collective shock) Ace: Holy Neelix and the Traitor! Floyd: Woah! Bad chong man! Bubbles: Fucksake fucksake! Keith: Richard Dawkins! Tash: Settal down you imbecile! Mauldy: The medal and the large amount of insurance money you planned to make from it. 10% still for me yeah? Huwaaa Huwaaa! Ace: I didn’t see that one coming. Floyd: You mean you tried to burn me alive in the school? For money? Mauldy: I would’ve got you out if he hadn’t, ask him! Keith: Norman? Is this true? Tash: That’s why I through the medal away. I couldn’t live with it. But as you can readily see, I got my just rewards for my actions. (Curtain flashes open) Wubba: Youse lads are a bunch of sick fukkas, hospitals the right place for you. Hawahawha! Bubbles: What are you smiling at wet face? Wubba: Wouldn’t you like to know. Bubbles: Where’s Sinead? Wubba: None of your business. Keith: It is MY business however! But, hold on everyone- I hadn’t finished. Norman, is this fact? You arranged a fire? Mauldy: You’re born of a jackal you know that? Floyd: You’ve, you’ve a head like a sock full of cum. Keith: I’m unsure of your all of your breeding. Bubbles: Well he’s half alien anyway. Tash: Go home! Mauldy: Shove it. (Curtain flashes open) Doctor: Now, Wubba is it? Good news! We have a tox screen of your stomach back from the lab! My my, hello everyone! Popular aren’t you Mr Wubba? But really, there should only be a maximum of three visitors per patient and there are six of you here now so… Keith: Sorry, your Doctor’s qualification obviously doesn’t cover numerical dexterity. There’re only five of us here! Doctor: No, no, there’re six of you. Keith: No, no, count with me for a moment; me 1, hairy idiot 2, new found son 3, Accursis 4 and him 5. Bubbles: I have a name. Keith: And Norman is hardly visiting. He’s a mummified immobile! Look one hand; five, see? How did you become a Doctor? Doctor: That’s not right. There’s five of you standing and a young lady kneeling under my patients bed with her hand under the sheet. Keith: What? Bubbles: Oh, oh please no. Wubba: Heheheheheh, this one’s for you Brian… (Lifts sheet up) Keith: SINEAD!! Sinead: Dad I’m sorry, I had to! Keith: No, no, no, no… Accursis: Oh shit. Floyd:  Dude, that’s, that’s your Candy girl Bubbles, Ace: Oh shit. Floyd: Right? Sinead: No. No. NO! I’m sorry! Mauldy: You’re truly the invisible man now Norman dear daddy. Keith: You are not my daughter. Doctor: So we agree on six then yeah? Fantastic! Ok- Keith: As for you lippadrome, I’m will exterminate you. Doctor: Eh, stand back please, this patient is in my care, keep your threats for when he is discharged ok? Wubba: Wha? Doctor: Now, Wubba, if I can call you that odd name… we’ve just discovered young man that you ingested 29 grams of a highly toxic mix of Heracleum Mantegazzianum and Datura Stramonium seeds. Enough to bring down a bull elephant… They are more commonly known as ‘Giant Hogweed’ and ‘Devil’s Trumpet’ ‘Devil’s Weed’ or if you like ‘Hell’s Bells’... Sinead: Daddy, don’t look at me like that… wait, Excuse me? Devil’s Trumpet seeds? Floyd: I like ‘Devil’s Weed’ better. Wubba: Really? (Smiles) How’d I get them into me now I wonder? Keith: (Laughs to himself) You bulbous labia-‘d baaaastard. Doctor: Excuse me? Tash: Hell’s bells. Doctor: The plant is often fatal when ingested by humans and animals. It produces a complete inability to differentiate reality from fantasy. And as I look around me, maybe I ate them at dinner meself. Wubba, you’re lucky you have a throat! Mauldy: What’s goin’ on? Huehuehue! Sinead: But I only gave you a coffee! Wubba: Obviously wasn’t coffee though was it? Keith: Ngggn I’ll give you a cleft palette you bastard! Sinead: There was no coffee on the counter, you said there was none, but then, in the cupboard, in the jar of Nescaf; DAD? Keith: Darling, I can explain… UCLS III (Hogweed) is an Amplevoicepod ear-film production. A feature-length and full-foley aural feast. Welcome back to our U.C.L.S. friends! It’s year 3 at University College LoughFeg State. And it seems Floyd Frisbane has made a new friend and judging by the goings on last night at the main college building, he may find him too hot to handle! Todaytime has us with Accursis ‘Ace’ Byrne and Brian ‘Bubbles’ Waterbury, as they endure Saturday morning detention by planting seeds. Geography teacher Norman Tash is the hero of the hour. And he gets a medal for it! Science Professor Keith Chiselton meanwhile bristles with hardly concealed hatred for all of peoplekind. Come Monday morning, he’s at UCLS gates exchanging unpleasantries with UCLS janitor Richard Soupe. Professor Keith Chiselton: Loving father and comic obsessive. For his daughter Sinead, after her Year One online virginity auction, she’s studying to be a Doctor! Afterwards we go to LoughFeg’s Lough Feg where Accursis, Brian and Floyd gaze at their lint-filled navels. Dick harbours delusions of grandeur with powerful molestation as a UCLS teacher. While at Chiselton Manor, Sinead Chiselton is pumping out the sweat before large-lipped lampoonery leads Peter 'Wubba' O'Toole into launching himself under a wardrobe. Well, it's action-packed isn't it? And there's so much more in this 90-minute audio comedy adventure. Manna for the ears Amplevoicepod: Podcasting done right.

The headline on the front page of the Wicklow Times last week said ‘Attack of the Giant Hogweed’ and reported of an invasion of giant hogweed in the Garden County which caused toxic burns on an 11 year old girl. Our resident environmental scientist, Dr. Cara Augustenborg, joined Ivan on this evenings Down To Earth to discuss this and other kind of invasions making their way to Ireland.

Looks Unfamiliar is a podcast in which writer and occasional broadcaster Tim Worthington talks to a guest about some of the things that they remember that nobody else ever seems to. This is a collection of highlights from shows thirty one to thirty six, featuring Bob Fischer on Giant Hogweed, Gillian Kirby on Teletext After Hours, Tim Worthington on Patterson, Michael Livesley on Topps Football '78 Bubblegum Cards, Chris Shaw on Rock School, and Andy Lewis on Vintage Anti-Enoch Powell Graffiti. Along the way we’ll be blowing the whistle on The Brexit Party’s sinister links to Giant Hogweed, finding out about the contribution Emlyn Hughes’ elongated leg made to road safety, planning a visit to The People’s Republic Of KDR, listening to Herbie Hancock jamming with Emu, finding out how to get the full immersive Laurel And Hardy experience by eating toffee, and definitely not drinking any ‘Solar Cola’. Plus there's also something you might not have heard before – Tim on Round The Archives talking to Lisa Parker and Andrew Trowbridge about the last ever episode of Chigley… You can find the full versions of these episodes of Looks Unfamiliar - and many more besides - at http://timworthington.org/

Looks Unfamiliar is a podcast in which writer and occasional broadcaster Tim Worthington talks to a guest about some of the things that they remember that nobody else ever seems to. Joining Tim this time is broadcaster Bob Fischer, who's saying 'aaaaahld up to anyone who doesn't remember BBC Daytime variety show The Tom O'Connor Roadshow, a media panic about hazardous plant Giant Hogweed, EastEnders spinoff single Can't Get A Ticket (For The World Cup) by Peter Dean, rum-favoured confectionery Glee Bars, J. Edward Oliver's 'Abolish Tuesday' campaign, and How To Be A Wally by Paul Manning. Along the way we'll be finding out the difference between 'spectators' and 'fans', blowing the whistle on The Brexit Party's sinister links to Giant Hogweed, working out how to get from Peter Dean to David Bowie in three moves, and learning far too much about the industrial action practices of school dinner ladies. You can find more editions of Looks Unfamiliar at http://timworthington.org/

Author: John Winkler, MD Educational Pearls:   Tall flowering plant with phototoxic sap Direct skin contact with the sap can cause the skin to become photosensitive Severe blisters and even burns can result   References Diebel, Matthew (18 June 2018). "Giant Hogweed, a Plant That Can Cause Burns and Blindness, Found in Virginia". USA Today.  

Enteprise Plugged In - July 13, 2018

Giant Hogweed, a plant whose sap can cause severe burns and blindness, has been found in Eastern Virginia. Islamic Relief says it works with several legitimate, accredited fellow charities and government agencies around the world, like FEMA, USDA, Red Cross and HIAS, a Jewish refugee resettlement charity. But Islamic Relief is accused of receiving funds from the Charitable Society for Social Welfare, for example, which was founded by Al-Qaida terrorist and “Bin Laden loyalist” Abdul Majeed Al-Zindani and did receive over $700,000 of taxpayers' money during the Obama administration. Stephanie Wilkinson co-owner of the Red Hen restaurant didn't want Sarah Sanders in her restaurant so she asked Sanders to leave, we'll talk about why. Debra Strop, owner of Uncle Loui's Cafe in Duluth, MN., and her family came under attack on social media. Organized mobs posted fake reviews of her cafe to rate it negatively. The store itself saw protests. All Strop did was allow a television news program to broadcast from her cafe. The news program was Fox & Friends, and the progressive mob had to punish Strop. Don't forget about the Edwards Notebook and the Veteran's Tip of the Day! All of this and more as time allows. Listen live, join the chatroom, be a part of the show. 

Giant Hogweed, a plant whose sap can cause severe burns and blindness, has been found in Eastern Virginia. Islamic Relief says it works with several legitimate, accredited fellow charities and government agencies around the world, like FEMA, USDA, Red Cross and HIAS, a Jewish refugee resettlement charity. But Islamic Relief is accused of receiving funds from the Charitable Society for Social Welfare, for example, which was founded by Al-Qaida terrorist and “Bin Laden loyalist” Abdul Majeed Al-Zindani and did receive over $700,000 of taxpayers’ money during the Obama administration. Stephanie Wilkinson co-owner of the Red Hen restaurant didn't want Sarah Sanders in her restaurant so she asked Sanders to leave, we'll talk about why. Debra Strop, owner of Uncle Loui's Cafe in Duluth, MN., and her family came under attack on social media. Organized mobs posted fake reviews of her cafe to rate it negatively. The store itself saw protests. All Strop did was allow a television news program to broadcast from her cafe. The news program was Fox & Friends, and the progressive mob had to punish Strop. Don't forget about the Edwards Notebook and the Veteran's Tip of the Day! All of this and more as time allows. Listen live, join the chatroom, be a part of the show. 

This episode, the guys talk about ideas surrounding death, Jason speaks of an encounter with Banana Man, and they ramble. Aaron's vinyl choice was the third album by Genesis, Nursery Cryme. 

Today on the Manitoba Farm Journal, Anne Kirk with Manitoba Agriculture joins us with details from the province's latest crop report. And Provincial Weed Specialist Jeanette Gaultier addresses concerns of Giant Hogweed spreading across the prairies.

The Swedish Transport Agency scandal has had political consequences and the poisonous Giant Hogweed spreads while the ground water gets lower. Correspondent Göran Löwing explains.  - Transportstyrelseskandalen får politiska konsekvenser och den giftiga jättelokan sprider sig i den svenska naturen medan grundvattnet sjunker. Korrespondent Göran Löwing berättar. 

Believe it or not, the tail end of this growing season is rapidly approaching, and while there aren’t many action items to get done this week in the field, the one that MUST happen is a major one — scouting! Peter Johnson, RealAgriculture agronomist and host of Wheat Pete’s Word, kicks off this weekly crop... Read More

Plans to install ticket barriers on the underpass at Stockport station, Stepping Hill is awarded specialist hospital status and the most dangerous plant in Britain — that could be on its way to Stockport. Plus, Jane and Simon round up the rest of the week's headlines. File download (47:40 mins | 44 MB)

How to identify Giant Hogweed, Himalayan Balsam & Japanese Knotweed in Spring. Lionfish- the problem affecting the coast of the USA. The Invasive Non Native Specialists Association Conference takes place on 24/03/15 in Manchester. Book now!

Audience numbers continue to grow for the Block Podcast and we are extremely happy with the reaction to Episode 2 and the feedback we have received via Twitter and email, please continue to tell us what you think of each episode and any suggestions you may have for the future. We are also keen to hear from anybody who would like to take part in future podcasts. Episode 3 of the Block Podcast was recorded on the Tuesday 27th September and we were delighted to welcome back some guests along with one new one - here are the participants: Evelyn Laurie, Principal, Red Marketing Fraser Duff, CEO Terrenus CDH John Stobbs, Director of Operations, Sap Service UK Also on the podcast we have Kenneth Martin, Managing Director, Block Architects and Gordon White, Managing Director, fatBuzz Ltd We covered lots of topics during our open and lively conversation and we hope that there's something in the podcast for you. To help you decide, we've listed some of the topics/questions that were asked and answered during the recording. We began by looking at marketing within the construction industry, here are some of the key topics: The need to be more focussed in today's market Do your existing clients know all of the services you provide? Target specific audiences for particular services Explore potential new markets by looking at things like changes in legislation Check that your business is geared up to chase potential new markets Are you engaging and making the most of your relationships? Is it relationships or price that really drives business? Are you humanising your organisation in order to encourage relationships? Is the construction industry making the best use of new technology such as Skype? We also explore the value of collaboration and the benefits of forming partnerships, how much you should publicly promote partnerships, whether partnerships can get help you tender for bigger projects and, whether architects still play the lead role on construction projects. We then move swiftly onto the subject of networking and explore the real value of networking events - can we really for lasting relationships from these meetings or, are they simply a hunting ground for salesmen? Finally, we discuss the Contaminated Land Regulations and the planned changes in the legislation. Along the way we discuss the following: The complexity of the current regulations Why we need different legislation in Scotland The Ravenscraig solution What defines contaminated land Is there a legal obligation for Local Authorities to request reports? The benefits and implications of assigning reports We also learn about the pearls of Japanese Knotweed, Giant Hogweed and Himalayan Balsam . Not content with that, Fraser explains why you don't want to get Newts on your boots!!! During the recording we also talked about the role of SEPA and issue an invitation to them to take part in a future podcast so, if you know someone from SEPA perhaps you can share this blog and the podcast with them. We hope you enjoy the discussion on this podcast and, if you would like to take part in a future episode please email Gordon White or Kenneth Martin for a chat. We would also like to get some feedback from you about the podcast and suggestions for topics you would like us to cover; you can either leave them as a comment here on the blog or, on our Facebook Page.