Taking Toby to pubs

A roll of suitcase wheels and a knock on the door at 5:40am heralded the welcome appearance of Toby on my doorstep. After mumbled hellos, I gave him a glass of sparkling water with a squeeze of lemon, and two rounds of toast and he went to bed. And so did I.

The Tobster climbed from bed several hours later and Lorraine and I revivified him with tea, and the cat had sat on him, and two of my Corydoras Julii (little leopard catfish) mated, dancing in the water vertically together in beautiful way, by way of welcome.

Later we went for a late Sunday lunch at the Eagle. For what people need when they come to England is booze. This incidentally another place where Lorraine is also well known and given kisses and hugs on arrival from the friendly manager Caz. Strapped on the nosebag for a traditional roast beef lunch, and enjoyed a couple of decent pints of English bitter and generally caught up. Toby seems well, cheery and relaxed, which is good to see.

Lorraine went home in the afternoon, and Toby and I went to the Cricketers for a pint of Harveys and to observe a spot of exhibition drinking from a birthday party of friendly gentlemen, before slipping across the road to Zizzi for a pizza and to discuss lofty noble things.

Home again to restlessly surf through Glastonbury coverage for some decent music. Settled on a spot of Blur before an early night.

Comments