A curate's egg sort of day...

I felt strangely excited?

Could it be the candlelight glinting through the amber liquor...

of a 'lightly peated with hints of smoke and spice' single malt whisky?

No, just through the the bottle of Sarson's finest Malt Vinegar.

The soft  flickering light, caresses the Heinz Tomato ketchup bottle.

But wait...

Wednesday night is fish and chip night in the village

so.....

even though I'm a 'Gordon Blue' chef 

we  occasionally succumb to the delights of the deep fat fryer.

Yesterday I went to the dentist.

Imagine my dismay on discovering that the filling in a front tooth

was just a sham.  After removing the discoloured coating the dentist found

a perfectly good tooth; yellow (its me age) admittedly.  A frigging sound peg!
Alright I know I've motored through some dentists,
the good , the bad and the outright fraudulent apparently.

The dentist is smack bang in the middle of my old stomping ground.

Now I thought is a good time to fast backwards to times gone by.
Wandering around Westerham in the rain,
I got to thinking of happy lazy luncheons at the Rendevous.
The Christmas Eve the three of us resplendent in...
Simon - genuine Russian Army fur hat
Aaron - Funky Multi-coloured Rasta Ski hat
Me - with half a sheep (black - it had to be!?!)
huge fluffy hat, looking for all the world like Lara
in Doctor Zhivago...
at least that's what I kidded myself!


We had walked down the hill in the snow and swept in to the restaurant
The French staff fell back...
'zeez Inglish... odd but on zis occasion
strangely styliz!'
A very boozy lunch followed, happy in the knowledge
that all we had to do was crampon clad scramble back.


'I know!' thought I
'I'll go and check out Simon's old allotment.'
As I walked up the footpath there was a clap of thunder
and the heavens opened.
Simon sitting on a cloud thinking...
'What took you so long?'


***

I laughed, I gossiped, caught up with all the news of many and various neighbours, 

remembering the happy and sad times of yore.


A mixed bag you'll agree...
just don't mention the w......


No, no, not the war,
the hailstones the size of a new born babies head!


Happy days.