A day to be taken as leave at the Margate estate rather than Lundunn bound. Sun’s shining, uncle’s drunk (no news there then), cats are sunbathing, memsahib’s pottering in the veg patch and yours truly exhausted after an hours painting Sandtex onto brick pillars is contemplating the first gin of the day.
Talking of Gin, the bargain of the week’s got to be Aldi’s finest at £7.99 a bottle. Despite the criminal attempts by her Maj’s gov to price such fine things out of reach for the common working man (Labour party…for the working classes….don’t make me laugh), our friendly German sooopermarket stands as a welcome beacon of ready supplies at wallet friendly prices.
Today is St Georges day and here in Westbrook they seem to take it all terribly seriously. There’s a big do over the road tonight and we’ve all got to wear red and white. Everyone’s welcome apparently, so long as they’re a WASP and preferably a Tory. They don’t want any riffraff in there when all said and done. Come to that, nor do I.
Last year I was halfway through my 9th pint of ‘Old Wife Beater’ (a splendidly quaffable 9% real lagerciderbitterale) when the chap next to me at the bar let it drop (innocently enough) that he was a left footer. I nearly died of self righteous shock. A servant of Rome, here, in East Kent? Horror. A very difficult situation it could have been, certainly very awkward. Anyway, all ended well enough. Instead of having him burnt at the stake in the town square I simply made a few light hearted jokes about Catholics being icon worshippers and how I hoped he’d enjoy spending eternity in purgatory. Oh how he laughed!!!