Auntie Pat Appears From The Blue

Late last week Mrs The Millbrooker got an unexpected phone call.

"Hello, it's your long lost godmother...."

Auntie Pat was in Cornwall doing the rounds of assorted friends and relatives and we (well, Mrs The Millbrooker with me as hanger-on) were on the list to be descended upon.

To cut a long story short (there's a song in there, somewhere), Auntie Pat stayed for a couple of days...

We had an extra guest for Film Club (Dong was throwing beermats at bemused publicans somewhere near Wigan and so we had a spare chair):

L-R Above - Mrs The Millbrooker's hand; Shazzerooneypoos; Frankenkeith; The Wizzers of Soz; Slocombe; Auntie Pat.

We did explain to Auntie Pat that after the film we tend to find ourselves drinking too much and talking bollocks. She generously told me that she wanted "...to listen to [my] bollocks." Ok - stethoscope at the ready, then.

We watched and were mildly entertained by Julie Taymor's 2002 biopic of Frida Kahlo: Frida. I won't do a full crit here but the overall (and more-or-less unanimous) verdict was that the film was bit lightweight and ultimately unsatisfying.

On Monday, Auntie Pat kindly sponsored lunch at The Rising Sun in Kingsand. I tucked into a very decent lump of sirloin and a couple of pints of the always yummity Heligan Honey. Here's The Fairy God-Mother (seated) perusing the menu before plumping for a whopping great plate load of whitebaitNaturally, an afternoon of pootling gently around the twin villages of Kingsand and Cawsand followed. With Auntie Pat around, no further entertainment is necessary. It's probably fair to assume that there's not a donkey within several miles of where she lives that still has its hind legs. (Work it out for yourselves).

Here's Mrs The Millbrooker and Auntie P on The Balcony at Cawsand.And here they are again having a decent slurp of ice cream on The Bound. You'll have guessed that this wasn't a low calorie day.We watched The Red Pig perform its beaching manoeuvres on its last trip of the day. The Pig is an enterprise run by our good friends Maggie and Norman (last heard of on these pages here). One day they hope to actually make some money from it. One day The Red Pig might fly.A quick stop off on the return journey at the compulsory-for-new-visitors Millbrook viewpoint from where Mrs The Millbrooker did the compulsory-for-new-visitors pointing out of our house.Monday night is jazz night at the D&C, and we dragged Auntie P to Russell and Mark's well known den of gin-soaked iniquity - but I'll do a separate post about that, because lots and lots went on.

Tuesday was heading homeward day; Mrs The Millbrooker and I were going up to Bath to see Milly and Trickers, so Auntie P joined us aboard the Iron Horse to do a surprise visit as well. Potted family history time: Milly and Auntie P were at school together about three and a half centuries ago and have been chums ever since. But they haven't seen each other for quite a while (you know how life gets in the way sometimes), so springing a surprise visit was good fun. Milly was delighted to see her old mucker......and they chin-wagged together non-stop for hours:Eventually 'twas time for Auntie P to head back to her abode in the wilder parts of Bristol and for the remaining foursome to indulge in a slap-up at The Crown, Bathford (more of which anon).

After an umpteen year hiatus, Mrs The Millbrooker was chuffed to bits to see her fairy godmother again; must say I had a whale of a time, too. Auntie P has been given an open invitation to stay at Millbrooker Towers so you might just get an introduction sometime soon - you lucky people.