Off the Map and into the groove

On Boxing Day it was back into the shiny car (now considerably muckier) and off to visit Bridget and Lassa (who've I've probably just mortally offended by spelling their names wrong). I've known Bridget since I was three (although I've no actual memory of that meeting) but not seen her and family for about 20 years. They now live a stones throw from Cheddar Gorge in a splendid, 500 year old house. Actually, their place is very easy to find. Just drive towards Cheddar until your GPS goes bonkers, then turn left and stop.

Margot took us all out for a meal in the evening, which was splendid. Everyone had cameras and picture phone and was snapping away. I took pictures of the food.


At the meal Lassa and I had a discussion about our "proper" ages. We both agreed that physical age is one thing, but actually you have a proper age, which is the age you really are. I decided that I am really 12 years old, obsessed with toys and essentially a big kid. Lassa reckoned that he was around 18, which makes him broadly similar but with a slightly different outlook, hem hem. We asked number one wife and she said she was 21. I've been going out with an older woman for all these years. Gosh.

Then it was back to the house for some Playstation Songstar stuff, where you sing along with a tune and the clever software marks your singing out of ten. I am not a great singer (unless you spell it grate) but I did managed to out sing my father, which cheered me up no end. Then number one wife out sang me. Great fun. And so to bed.