Mrs the Millbrooker collected me from work a few evenings ago and muttered en-route that she really didn't fancy cooking when we got home. Neither did I after a day spent slaving over a hot set of change-weighing scales.
"Shall we go to the pub?" my other-and-much-more-attractive half enquired.
"Is a bear catholic, does the pope perform evacuations in the woods?" was my considered response.
I used the modern-day wonder of telephonic communication to see if there was a table available - the Village Vamp answered in the affirmative from her accustomed place behind the bar and that was it, all set to go.
In no time at all, I'd located my new tankard (the old one has been gracefully retired to act as ale receptacle in Wrecking adventures) and we were in our favourite watering hole.
A short perusal of the menu and a short wait for Russell to work his magic in the kitchen and Mrs The Millbrooker got to tuck into her steak.
I didn't get a shot of my meal - I was too busy chomping, but the aftermath will give sufficient clues to what I guzzled.
And then, as if from afar, a little voice floated over the room.
"We're avid blog readers - we love it." Or words to that effect.
"Aha, fame at last" I expostulated.
The voice continued "...well notoriety, at least."
So - my apologies to my avid reader(s) for the long hiatus between postings that we've been experiencing - the new job has got bloomin' unsociable hours for blogging. However, I've grabbed a few minutes to witter away this morning and I might manage a little something tomorrow as well.
So - anyone who's curious as to what an "avid" reader of utter twaddle looks like. Here's Barbara (seated) chatting to the Village Vamp (leaning suggestively over the table in her inimitable style).
Yes, indeed, dear reader - note that blog reading can cause urgent desires to enter the Devon and Cornwall Inn in Millbrook and indulge in yummy food and fine well-kept ale.
And thank you to Barbara for reading. And even more so for admitting it. Made my evening.