Despite a 1am bed time, as always I was up with the lark. I wrapped a few Xmas pressies, and then set off to the garage for screen wash. My screen washers weren’t working too well (read “at all”) last night, and I was having visions of the car’s screen washing circuit being knacked. I desperately hoped that all that was wrong was the need for more wash jollop. The vicar was clanging his bell as I set off, and I was amazed at how many people were filling their cars with petrol at 9am on a Sunday morning.
It didn’t take too long reading the manual to figure out how to open the bonnet on my car – I’ve had the thing for eighteen months, and I’ve never opened the bonnet before. And sure enough, topping up the screen wash jollop worked wonders. I now have a clean windscreen. Mind you, I don’t know how long it will last – I say “topping up” – the instructions said to pour the stuff in until no more would go. I poured in two litres and it didn’t come close.
Earlier in the week I griped about what short notice I’d been given about the FILO’s Xmas beer festival. Three of us set off at 11am for
We got chatting with the barman who soon realised that if we didn’t actually know anything about beer, we certainly knew how to pretend we did. He told us of another pub nearby which was trying to establish itself as a “real ale” pub. The Dolphin has been on my list of places to visit for some time, and it is now firmly on the “
The original plan was to have a couple of beers in the FILO, and take the 3.30pm train home. By now it was 5.30pm, and we set off to the chip shop for tea. And then to the London Trader to see a band. I’ve know my mate Rick for over thirty five years, and his band (the 1066 Rockitmen) were playing tonight. I didn’t know that they were, but finding out just rounded the day off. With a pint of Directors in my hand, I stood at the front and shouted along with the band.
All too soon they were done, and waving goodbye to Kev and Jane we set off for the station. Taking a train some five hours than that which was originally intended, we arrived home at 10pm to find that whilst cleaning the bathroom, “Daddies Little Angel TM ” had managed to block the bath drain pipe. Plumbing is never my strong point, and plumbing after a gallon or so of ale would never be on my top ten list of things to do, but I eventually cleared the plughole.
Now to have words with that girl….
Meanwhile on a better plane of existence, whilst some cry over the demise of their remote controlled car, “Ginge” is showing off his skills, having set up a slalom course for his remote-controlled car. Showing off is never a good thing to do. It will all end in tears. I wonder whose….