We talk about our local the Dolphin such a lot, and yet we don’t actually go there that often… wait a minute… Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, Sunday… but wait another minute! Tuesday quiz night! Thursday we had been very busy and it was very hot! Saturday my drummer boy had been at a gig in deepest Somerset so came home tired and very hot and thirsty since he couldn’t drink as he was driving! Sunday we go to the pub to meet the two T’s, our friends Tim and Trev.

We drift down latish for the last hour, and when we arrive, no T’s but the girls. This isn’t meant to sound patronising but affectionate… three very clever, and amusing women who live locally and are always out on jaunts and adventures together, and also play badminton in the village hall. Two are sisters, and dog people; Shirley was the owner of the amazing Thatch, a dog of great character who used to sit on the front lawn arms folded (OK forepaws folded) presiding over the street. Thatch’s cousin/brother, Shirley’s sister Maureen has Hamlet was a more laid back and maybe timid character who Thatch led into various adventures. The third is Jean who comes from the Lake District, and we were talking tonight about the fact that it has become a World Heritage Site.

We have great fun, a real craic (the sisters are from Ireland) talking about all sorts of things,sport, County Antrim, geese, a strange farm they had recently stayed in, drinking champagne and eating canapes in a barn until Maureen accidentally threw her cider over Jean. As she was offering a hanky to dry jean’s shoes, the two T’s arrived, one of them looking slightly less sunburned than the last time we had seen him – he’d been sitting in the garden and fallen asleep… great redness ensued!

We were all up ‘our’ end of the pub – if you can imagine the letter E with the middle bit missing, that’s the shape of the pub. A bar at either end and the cross-benches as we call them between. (The cross benches is a parliamentary term for the benches or seats  between two different parties – this is just a joke… people float round all the areas of the pub!) There may have been a few folk in the cross benches at some point, but when I drifted through in search of a bar man (when it’s quiet like on a Sunday there is only one person on) it was empty. Down at the darts board/TV/other end there were a few regulars, but on the whole it was quiet, typical Sunday.  The jukebox was playing,  a varied selection but predominantly Country and Weston. I was glad to hear one of my all-time favourites ‘Human’ drifting through!

The girls departed, they’d been out and about and they were ready to go, then time was called and we finished our drinks, too our glasses  to the bar and shouted ‘cheerio’ and off we went…

I wonder if Jean’s shoes are dry… but that’s another story..

. as is the tale of the friendly geese…

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