Feeling lazy after our lunch at The Edgcumbe, Mrs The Millbrooker and I looked at each other last night and decided to have quiet night in and watch a piece of fluff on the DVD.
Bridget Jones's Diary did the trick: pure twaddle, at times very funny and no intellectual challenge whatsoever. Perfect for the occasion.
We had reckoned without the machinations of Shazzerooneypoos and Dong who plotted to get us up to Sharon's eyrie for a late evening bottle or two. Seen to the left is Dong doing one of those things he does so well - pouring another drink.
Lush Lewis meanwhile occupied a teeny corner of her sofa and burbled merrily away.
I may have tipped slightly more down my neck than I should have because I can't remember a great deal about the conversation. I do remember that despite saying we didn't want a late night it was well after midnight before we left (it could have been gone one in the morning) and I also remember Dong agreeing to a evening in Tavistock this December seeing my all time hero, John Otway, in concert. I haven't seen Otway live for years. I don't suppose he's got any better, but it's always an entertaining sight.