Evenings out.

Last night we enjoyed an evening out with visiting foster carers.

A pleasant evening in pleasant company, my beloved chose the restaurant based on her infinitely greater experience of posh local eateries.

with her freshly delivered instructions ringing in my ears (no spitting on the floor, no food fights, or telling any of my jokes) wearing a very uncharacteristic shirt and clean, well Ok less oil soaked, jeans, off we set.

I was very well behaved, did not pass out when I saw the prices didn't query the size of the portions, in fact it was a really good meal, the only pain being parting with rather a lot of money.

Of course that was only the beginning of the evening. It was back to the house and, lacking anything else it was raid the red wine reserve. Rasteau's and Chateau Neufs; wines we keep for the most special occasions and the night passed on.

All too soon it was silly o clock and time at last for bed.

Morning made a not entirely welcome arrival and management seemed to be struggling somewhat. About mid morning there she wasn't - no sign of the lady.

A search revealed a body in bed, saying a vaguely weak - never again.

Serious sleep and she is back in command, orders given and the house back to normal. Thankfully we don't do that once a week.

R