“I am just going outside and may be some time.”
Before I start this weekend allow me to write a few lines about the last one. After leaving work a bit early on Friday me and brother Merk took our old dear to The Old Orleton for her birthday/our payday nosh up. I had reservations about the menu, it all looked a bit posh for me. I’m more of your baked bean pasta bake or infamously a sausage and carrot balti kind of man, especially when left to my own devices in the kitchen. However I do like eating animals I’ve not eaten before (like a carnivorous Noah, “my plate is my Arc”). So I settled on the game casserole. It was really really good. I’d like to have know what was in it, but I think there may have been partridge, vennison, wood pigeon and I think rabbit. There may have been minotour and griffin in it too, I just don’t know. Anyway after that and a few nice pints of Town Crier and a couple of brandies it was off home. Full and content and a bit squiffy. Oh and a bit poorer too as it weren’t cheap.
Saturday night began with a short train trip to Shifnal for another birthday meal. This time for Suzie and the food was Greek. I had a huge plate of lamb. I mean a piled plateful of sheep. It beat me too, I couldn’t finish it. I got the meat fatigue which kept me out of the race for the puddings. After that we all waddled to the Seven, which was packed as ever. So we braved the outdoors for the most of the cold cold January evening, only venturing back inside for drinks and widdles. A bravery which I think traces a proud lineage back to Scott and Oates and the rest of them. Hmmm. Anyway it was a great night, with plenty of laughs and just a hint of showing off this time (I’m told there are some photos knocking about the depths of the web, but I haven’t dared look!). Because of the huge dinner I didn’t feel very drunk at all, so me and our Merk finished off the brandy we saved from the previous night, then decided to empty our supply of beers too! Cue a big hangover on Sunday morning (well, afternoon really). Even a charcoal burger and a pint of doghair at The Beacon couldn’t shift the bastard.
Right, that’s written, now let’s get to work on this weekend’s hangover.
