And so it seems it's Friday . . . as I write the world around me is changing from it's workaday clothes and habits and is preparing for jollification and fun in the hostelries and gin-palaces of the town . . . me? Oh, I'm cooking vegetable pasties and trying to stay awake long enough to eat them - or at least one of them!
Gone are the days indeed when, at this hour , I would be making my way into town with a group of like-minded folk, heading to Mrs Brown's for good company, beer and waitress service; a roaring fire in the Farmer's Room and the deceptively tasty cheese sandwiches which somehow lead to more beer, which came at the press of a bell, served by delightful creatures who suffered our adolescent charms very well indeed . . . ah me !
Sadly, as the years increase and the numbers decrease as people go their own way or even leave us far too early altogether, I find myself going out less and less; especially now when I have to forgo all my favourite tipples, the charm of the pub has waned in my life . . . and pubs too have changed; with TV, 3D Sport, Karaoke and the like . . . whatever happened to good company and conversation?
Anyhow, I shall spend the evening in quiet contemplation and try not to worry too much about all you flibbertigibbets; I hope to see you safely tucked up in bed - be sure to be back by ten or else!
So as you stride youthfully into The Pleasure Dome that is the start of the weekend, I, with the waving of my feeble old hands just visible through the Autumn eve, bid you farewell
'til next time
Be Seeing You !