Close your eyes, picture the scene. The pub, the church, the backdrop of the country mansion. Flannelled figures round the wicket of a smooth green pitch. The shattering crack of leather on willow. This is England, this is cricket.

But enough of this poetry. This 22 (no sorry 15 and Milly) have come to Hash and your two brave hares clad in rain gear set off to lay as much trail as we could before the coming downpour was going to descend.

We arrived back to circle up and a few more cars had arrived. No formalities, we set off with the RA's assurance that the umbrella Gorjorce was carrying would not be needed. The church was silent and locked, Rapid, Edwina and Forking ran back for a 2nd look having been caught out by a back spin. This wouldn't be the only time these 3 were sent to the back 6 Runs. No chance of an appeal. Follow On to the photo check at the lake and again on the bridge. No time for pooh sticks, silly mid on on to the Mausoleum which we had set as a false trail. All caught out. Pass white cows and far away sheep, a held check at the stately home gave an opportunity to gawp at how the other half live and back, not out to open the picnic baskets and set out chairs close to the boundary rope. We welcomed the apres PP & family and Major Tom to collect Edwina who had run to the hash from Bedford.

A splendid spread of goodies appeared Blofeld bowled a maiden over with his Scones, fresh strawberries, jam and clotted cream. Others supplied finest quiche, cheese & biscuits, posh crisps & nuts, fancy cakes and Pongo & Pardita gave us Earl Grey in bone china cups not forgetting the lashings of ginger beer. The cricket game ended, the repast finished so time to circle up. Although it must be said that the Hash behaved impeccably and I'm sure we will be welcome back, the RA declared there were down downs and this time he truly deserved his self given beer for keeping us dry. Howzat

Next week's run The Greyhound, Haynes

NikNak