Wednesday evening wander

Hellall,

         a quick apology first of all for a noticeable lack of input throughout August - I am still going through training help and support in Sheffield following my brain injury in April. I am assured that my replenishment of skills and abilities is going well but, although its very likely down to gaps in the number of posts made, I am struggling to ignore the fear that my reduction in hits is down more to my injury caused typing and writing failures, as opposed to the way that stats drop when you find yourself out of the habit of making posts for a period of time....

I am aware incidentally, that I currently suffer noticable and indeed deal-able with problems with the way I currently write, however I also equally realise that this is more minor than it previously was, and also, to not misjudge my readers. If there are unavoidable issues am certain some of you would very kindly point such things out, but, crucially, you haven't. Therefore its only the nagging worries in the back of my mind which require any action, an event I propose undertaking over time.

So, with wild concerns aside, I have taken the opportunity to tell you about some recent events. Firstly, I have known my friend Mr G for about fifteen years. Current chums may know that I didn't talk to him for the first few weeks as I bizarrely assumed he had mutilated and buried his parents - as I am certain I have mentioned previously, I made my first attempt at conversation with him by asking to check his fingernails for soil. And we have remained strong friends ever since....

I left work about 17.15 and Mr G was on the busily trafficked road over the river. He parked up whilst I joined him and we then undertook a lengthy and fairly frustrating ten minute wait getting off that road and onto Derek Dooley Way to head for Gibraltar Street, and to park outside my Second home, the Shakespeares. As it was Wednesday, we were all too keenly aware of the upcoming horrors of the nidorous harridans the Mother Folkers, so having been bought an excellent pint of Anthology (or similar) low gravity IPA, and Mr G on Deception, we went and sat in the as yet unsoiled clock room for a very enjoyable pint. And it was here I suggested that given he unavoidable horrors ahead we should drive to the Blake Hotel. So we did.....

Arriving at the Blake to find an excellent range, we sat in the window of the room on the left with me supping a 5.5% Neepsend Pale and Mr G on a soft drink, washing down our wonderful Wateralls pork pies with English mustard. We were both in good moods and in a further moment of recklessness, and very much despite my enjoyment thus far, I suggested we now moved on yet again, this time to the Nags Head at Stacey Bank. Once more this idea seemed good and we arrived there thirteen minutes later using the Sat Nav. I dislike such devices in principal. but felt this was very helpful on this occasion.

The Nags Head was busy as always and the beer was well priced as always as well. I had a pint of the Pale Ale on cask from the past at £2.60 a go, possibly two of the same, and Mr G another Soft drink, and we sat outside in the warmth of the evening enjoying both our drinks and the atmosphere.

Taking us home via the village of Dungworth nearby am pleased to say that Mr G hasn't been to the Royal Hotel more than once, so in a surprise final stop we popped inside for finishers. I had a pint of Bradfield, I think, and Mr G a half of the same, and we sat in the area on the right enjoying, once again, both our selected drinks and the atmosphere around us. From here, using the Nav once again, it didn't in fact take long to get home and it was about 21.00 when I returned to open a finishing can, and to prepare for my meeting the next day. Thus far, all has gone well. And, crucially, it was great to catch up with and go out for drinks with Mister G.

Your very best health!

Wee Beefy