Feb 13th. Unlucky for hares. Cold windy rain and soggy underfoot. Unlucky, a hare had to return home to collect forgotten flour. Unlucky, no shops in Streatley.

Feb 14th. Much better. Rev Steve who appeared from St Margaret's next door had blessed us with glimpses of sun. Much Redness in the flamboyant attire of the nectarious ones (and that was just the men). The very Reverend had to avert his eyes from the vivid bold underpants worn by Hotshot, more of that later. Much love in the air. Kisses went around the circle in the form of a mexican wave.

We set off at a brisk pace to the left of Sharpenhoe road and it must have seemed we were going to avoid the Clappers. Hash no, the hares wanted to see the views they couldn't see the day before. All went well with numbered checks to keep all together, a jelly baby stop at a view point, nice patches of shiggy here and there and the dust still on show. Only Capt F decided to get lost again, the excuse given was being led astray by Zebedee. The short cut not taken by the 3 knitting circle saw us a little late back to the pub but it gave an appetite to devour 'Frau cakes'.

Down downs awarded to Bangers whose cardigan buttons were in disarray. 3 eagle eyed peeps who took too much attention to Hotshot's pants. Edwina for falling down and nearly losing his blue hair. A hare for losing his dummy. A hare for losing her dibber and Capt F for getting lost.

On On to next week's run at The Cricketers (part III) at Caddington