A Week Whistles By

I glance at my watch this morning as I sit before the old steam-driven jalopy of a computer that I bash these musings out upon to find that it's a week since I last sat here and poured nonsense into the ether. A week! And I haven't even been on holiday.

But I have been a busy Millbrooker.

Last week Monday to Thursday consisted on rising at stupid-o'clock-in-the-morning to meet the entirely unreasonable expectation of my employer that I turn up for work when I'm supposed to. After the better part of nine hours' mindless slavery, I found that writing anything vaguely coherent on these pages was beyond me (very little change there, then).

And then immediately after work on Thursday it was off on the iron horse to Taunton and thence to Weston Super Mare and a reunion with Mrs The Millbrooker, who was already there, to provide the good publicans of that town with copious quantities of beermats and posters proclaiming the benefits of being tested for chlamydia.

Mrs The Millbrooker and I dropped beermats and posters at something like 20 establishments in the faded Victoriana and low-rent kiss-me-quick town centre that graces Weston-Super-Mud (as it's affectionately known throughout the English speaking world) before guzzling on a Wetherspoon's Curry Night special and heading to a B&B for the night. This one to be precise:In the unexpected event of any reader heading to Weston for a night or two of fun and frolics at such nightspots as HotShotz or Vee's Bar, I'm happy to recommend The Spreyton Guest House - it's scrupulously clean, nicely furnished and our room was very comfortable.

Friday morning saw us driving around Nailsea, Clevedon and Portishead doing our impressive Dong impersonations by throwing beermats at bemused publicans in each of these Somerset towns before finally heading to the relative tranquility of Milly and Tricker's pad in our old stamping ground of Bath and a scrummy evening meal of slow roasted pork belly, prepped by Trickers' own fair paws. (My goodness, what a long sentence that was, I'm quite out of puff after writing it). Lacking any photos of Trickers' culinary handiwork, we'll just have to content ourselves with a shot of Mrs The Millbrooker in Milly and Trickers' living room.Now, Saturday got quite exciting, but I'll leave that for another time.