We are continuing with our heady January social round and going out tonight.
We can do this in January because there is so little point in driving a taxi that the council has dug up the taxi rank and parked a digger on the top of it.
Not only that, but Mark’s rural broadband activities have been temporarily curtailed due to an outbreak of bat flu at the local primary school. I am astounded that this is the case, but it is.
If we go broke it will be entirely Boris’s fault and he jolly well deserves all his MPs to be calling him rude names.
The upshot of all of this is that we are even freer than we had imagined that we would be, and we always look forward to January as being a season with very little occupation at all.
I do not even have anything that needs to be written for my course. I have written absolutely everything that I need to write
Hence we have spent today sloping about catching up on things that needed doing, and tonight we are going out.
We are going to stay out all night.
LATER NOTE: I am now staying out all night. I am thoroughly intoxicated and in possession of a portable piano.
Possibly fortunately, the batteries are all flat.
Goodness, I am going to be sorry tomorrow.
We have had a magnificent night. The thing is that our friends Kevin and Kate are thorough cosmopolitans of the most impressive sort. Kevin used to be a chief executive of almost everything important and Kate knows about how to make hydrogen into U-bends.
I might not have been paying attention about the last bit but the principle is sound.
At any rate, they are so gloriously international that they gave us a Korean dinner. I mean properly Korean, the sort that you might eat if you were in Korea. We are not in Korea, so the leaves were not quite right but I think they were Little Gem, which is green and leafy and which is close enough for the UK.
Koreans eat their dinner wrapped in leaves, You put some rice and spicy things in a leaf, roll it up and then eat it.
This got messier by the third bottle.
Kate is a jolly good cook. There were bits of beef cooked actually on the table as we watched, just as if we were in a restaurant with a smiling chap in a chef’s hat.
We ate with chopsticks. Fortunately I can use chopsticks just about sufficiently well enough for people not to smirk, and equally fortunately, whenever you eat with chopsticks, everybody else is too busy concentrating on not crossing theirs to care. We all know that crossing our chopsticks is terribly bad manners but nobody ever has the slightest idea why.
At any rate, I haven’t.
It was a lovely, lovely evening, and now it is long past midnight and I am trying not to think about the terrible hangover that awaits me in the morning.
We did not drive home, obviously. We are in the camper van on some road in Lancaster somewhere.
More than that I could not say.
Would you mind terribly if I finished early and went to bed? I am really very tired, and I have drunk far too much.
It has been a delightful evening and I have got a portable piano and a sushi making thing.
I will tell you more some time when I am sober.
