The weekend was trouble free. The boys rode steam engines to their hearts content on Saturday, and I got to listen to the Lions on 5 live whilst they had breakfast. What a shower of shite that was, still twatto Clive seems to have smelt the coffee and picked a team that might actually be able to run the ball provided that porky lummox Thompson remembers that his jumpers are the ones wearing the red shirts.
Sunday was groovy, the sun shone and we decamped to Evesham for the afternoon. Had a boat trip on the Avon, and then moseyed around the Eastern festival for a few hours. Lots of different Indian and Chinese dancing, J got completeley freaked out when the Lion from the dance came to say hello, howled and clamped himself to me and after they'd gone affably chirped on 'Dad I hallood the Lion', uh, actually no you've just about yanked my ear off. C unsuprisingly was delighted with the food that was available. We sat next to the river munching satays and spring rolls, washed down with ice cold cobra. J had a bit of a shock when he shoved a handful of salad in his mouth when it hit home that the chilli dipping sauce had spilt over it. Why do kids try and wipe their tongues ? The only dubious bit was a load of pasty white women dresses up in saris belly dancing. They certainly had the bellies for it, put me off sausages for a while. A returned boogied out, hungover and shopped out but pleased to see us all. Ahhhh.
Hell of a thunderstorm the other night. Fantastic claps of thunder and vast sheets of lightning. I was in the garden puffing a post dinner fag as and there was a hell of a belt of lightning. I'm not ashamed to admit that I jumped. 'Fuck me that felt close'. Indeed it was, set fire to some poor sods roof around the corner, they had Trumpton there for three hours. I love a good storm, but not that good.