Well Worth Rotating

A blissful lie-in, a bit of food shopping and then onto the park with the dogs. Afterwards they look so creased I manage to slope off out for a dog free training run, just 6km but every bit counts.

Daughter is out clubbing tonight, which is odd as under 18 events don’t usually happen on a Saturday. It takes us a while to find out where she’s going, as naturally she’s oblivious to her intended destination but eventually after a phone call she provides the information. ‘My parents are being parents’ she tells her friend on the phone, which makes us proud that we are doing our job.

Then we head off to Burton on the bus for a birthday party, not a riotous 18th like Son’s last night but a 42nd. This actually turns out to be pretty raucous in its own right, in a lots of good ale and skittles sort of way.

We have to change buses in Derby and have time to stop for that much lusted after liaison with Penny’s Porter that I was denied on Wednesday night. Except it’s not on, the swines have already drained the barrel. So it’s Ram Tam instead.

After which we head off to get our next bus where we bump into my friend from Wednesday night, who is also going tonight, just as we were about to start talking about him. Damn.

Shamefully I’d forget that Derby were playing today, how disloyal is that but we’ve had so few Saturday 3pm games recently you get out of the habit. I have to look up the score on my phone. A 4-2 defeat, oh well.

We’re at the Burton Bridge brewery tap where the Porter and the Festival ales are both excellent and well worth rotating. The Festival goes down so well with L but not too well and she's doesn't carry out her offer to give my friend some tips on speed dating. She does though get well into the skittles, despite the fact everyone is divided into teams and she loathes being in a team for anything.

She’s also very competitive with me; I’m in a different team. I put her in her place by scoring eight on my second bowl and start thinking of a forfeit for the loser of our duel. Then when I score only one on my next turn, it doesn’t look such a sure thing any more. We end up tied at thirteen points each, which is very fair and both of our teams are knocked out in the quarter-finals which means we can get our planned bus back home without upsetting anyone for abandoning our teamly duties.

An excellent evening, despite the incredibly unhealthy buffet. The entertainment doesn’t end there though; it’s an engaging bus journey home, bare legs and black stockings everywhere. I’m only mentioning that because L pointed it out, naturally I was too busy debating the merits of Arthur Miller to notice.