Saturday, 31 March 2018

You know how...

you get in the humour for no particular reason... or maybe you don’t?  
Well yesterday I did my stint in the hospice shop, battled home with broken brolley through high wind and tipping rain.  The thought of turning out for our early doors at the pub wasn’t appealing.  Friday five-ish is our start of the weekend, our old (new) Spanish custom in Hythe.  Himself had been home alone and 
was ready to brave the elements.  Our aim of coming to Hythe was we could walk everywhere and we do.  And slowly, slowly our old bods are reaping the benefit.  Walking to the pub,we don’t have the worry of drinking and driving.  We must be very aware the ability to drink more, doesn’t bite us on the bum and undo the good all this exercise is obviously having!
The pub I have spoken about before is so difficult to describe, not everyone’s cup of tea, I admit.  It’s nowt special... it reminds me 
of the small pubs in Southern Ireland back thirty odd years ago, where to an outsider it seemed you were stepping into someone’s front room.  On one occasion in a pub near Skibbereen, my bottom was carefully fondled, I turned and the culprit gave me such a winning smile how could I be cross?  Times have changed since then thankfully and I am not for one moment saying our local is anyway like that.  What I am saying is it is the people that are as much of a draw as the brilliant real ale.  
We got chatting with a young man at university in London, his folks live here.  Then our builder 
turned up with Twiglets and 
chorizo, which was handed around and suddenly our couple of drinks developed into the most wonderful forum of thoughts, views and ideas.  Where else could you enjoy hearing people’s tales of their 
work, their everyday lives,their 
hobbies and interests? 
There are so many good folk in the world, reading the ghastly things in the newspapers tend to make you forget that fact.

We had to drag ourselves away for me to make our fish pie.

A super end to our Good Friday

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