Under The Weight Of Eton Mess

Today is a day off work so that we can head down to Ipswich for the weekend. Then I discover that we can’t get on the campsite until 4pm. So there’s no point leaving before lunch and it’s nice to get a lie in.

As we reached the outskirts of Ipswich it’s relatively easy to find the Half Marathon HQ, which is well signed. Not so the dog show that makes up the other half of the weekend but eventually we find Trinity Park where it is being held.

Agility competitors always complain when they end up being camped too far from the competition area. I don’t understand this, as I prefer the peace and quiet of being as far away as possible.

Today we find ourselves a nice secluded spot on the edge of the show, then once settled we seek out the local pub, the Dog and Shepherd. Which is about 200 yards as the crow flies but by foot requires a perilous half mile or so trek down a dual carriageway with no pavement with two dogs. Nice.

The pub is ok, serves a decent meal and has Camra discount. Not that any of the staff know this, despite there being a foot high sign on the bar. It’s only Greene King IPA anyway, so we soon end up on the wine.

It’s a shame the race isn’t tomorrow because the carbo-loading potential of the desserts is huge. Once I’ve dispatched my Apple Pie, I have to rescue L from under the weight of her huge Eton Mess.

(Friday 21st September)

A Very Small Tea Cup

I leave the house this morning noticing that the spare key is still in the front door and L’s keys are on the worktop. L meanwhile is out with dogs. I leave the front door unlocked correctly calculating that someone has forgotten their keys.

The traffic is horrendous again as I drive to work.

The dog club call an emergency meeting about what to me is a very small storm in a very small tea cup but some people like to decant these things into a bigger cup and stir furiously in the hope of getting a good crisis going. I refuse to attend. I have an appointment with a couple of spreadsheets and a curry tonight.

The spreadsheet appointment is with my mate to get a few ticks in his ‘squash games’ column. I suggest we ought to do what those guys in Thame did... 200 games. I bet their spreadsheet is looking healthy.

We manage four and I don’t win any of them.

After one in the Globe with him, I meet L, who has walked up with the dogs, at the now refurbished White Hart. The Thursday curry has gone down from £5.00 to £4.49 and they’ve added a free pint and poppadoms but taken away the naan bread. The free pint is Greene King IPA but they agree to pour me something more decent for an extra 50p, taking it back up to a fiver plus a £1 extra for the naan.

It wasn’t as good as it was before but it was ok and much better than the Wetherspoons one we had at Christmas.

Tonight’s ‘emergency’ meeting was cancelled. Must have ran out of cups.

(Thursday 19th January)