After an early start on Sunday, getting cars ready for a little drive out to a pub for lunch, the weather let us down by raining hard on the way there and forcing us to do an emergency pull over and roof up job. Always fun.
After a splendid lunch marred only by the staff’s initital refusal to offer us dessert as they were closing the kitchen in 5 minutes (… we suspect due to the footie) we went on a little drive down to Pewsey Vale and back up towards Marlborough.
Now my old Midget has a dodgy fuel pick up (well that’s what I think it is anyway) and it always runs out when the needle get to 1/4 full. Given this knowledge you would expect I would have the wit to carry a spare fuel can, perhaps even with some petrol in it.
So anyway, the inevitable happened and we left the car at the side of the road and Big Mike and I roared of in the Aston in search the needful. Red face for me then.
It was still raining when we got home so consequently an hours lethargy in front of the telly was in order. Somehow we managed to watch the World Cup. England vs. Ecuador. Now I will freely admint to not being an expert in matters of the round ball game, but as a slothful spectator, in the mood to be entertained, I was wholly underwhelmed. What a load of dross.
And looking at the picture of Becks on the front page of most of the newspapers this morning, you’d have thought we’d won the Jules Rimet outright.
Even in the eyes of this armchair incompetent, we need to try harder, after all; England expects.