I am, it has to be said, feeling someone what tired and satisfied after an amazing weekend of fun with my friends. Most of them, it appears, are leaving the country forever, but nevertheless: superb.
On Friday I got home from work and cooked Rosa dinner as she slobbed out on the sofa in a knackered and immovable way. My poor lady's sleeping has not improved much and so she's still (semi-)functioning on half a night's sleep all the time. She wanted to come out to Sami's leaving do, but couldn't make it in the end, so I went solo, and met up with a whole load of people in The Lansdown in Clifton, which is a lovely pub.
Sami is off to America forever, because he is in love and she is in love and their world is golden and glowing. Awww.
Also in the pub was a whole load of strangers and a whole load of old friends from Clevedon who we'll be spending New Years with. It sounds like it's going to be an excellent event. We've an ancient YHA Hostel with no-one else in it and nothing but countryside around us. There will be just enough drinking and raucousness and fun to complement the cosy fireside nodding and board games and, weather permitting a few trips through some muddy Wlesh backwaters turning maps around, scratching our head snad trying to trigonometry from far-off mountains.
Saturday night was spent hectic as hell. One of my best mates from secondary school came to stay with his lovely wife Sam, who is a postie. Poor Sam had been up since before dawn, nevertheless we dragged her off for some food at Budokan in town (quality sushi and noodle-soup kind of affair, we got a small but cheap meal deal before 7, which was a bargain!) and then had a few pints at the Zero Degrees Micro-Brewery on Park Row. Zero Degrees is like a 50s science fiction writer's depiction of a brewery or pub in the year 2000. All shiny metal and ... [Here I stopped writing and went and did something else, running out of steam completely]
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