Not the Highlander

Apologies for the lateness of the words. I had a pretty tough week and didn't really start to feel myself (that's why my eyesight is failing) until mid-week and by then I was house sitting at Iron Maiden's abode as she was having her roof ripped off and re-laid.

Confused, disorganized, muddled, addled, possibly unhinged or perhaps even senile? There are just a few adjectives to describe el Capitain's faux pas last weekend. What could possibly go wrong? Never trust a hare, especially when he arranges to meet you at the wrong pub. Capt F was at the Bricklayers Arms and Courtesan was at the Highlander, both eager to get on with laying the run. How did this come to be? Well, I have to hold my hand up to that one as it was simply a case of poor communications and outright dis-information.

Were there any other extenuating circumstances? Only that CF was suffering from a bad case of Delhi belly. Montezuma has a lot to answer for as a case of the Fox Trots is never nice and on Sunday I was still suffering big time and had not eaten all weekend. This went on for some time afterwards and is the main reason why these words are a tad later than usual. It's a good job that we are not a running club, as loose words like "the run" or motion just make me shudder with revulsion (or is it convulsion).

At least it was a bright sunny day and the expectations were of a good crowd for the red dress run. It was also the 01462 run, which unlike genital herpes, syphilis and trichomoniasis is everyone's favorite STD. Wasn't it lovely to see some of the old guard (i.e. Twicza) back in the fold. We even had a brace of newbies as introduced by the lovely Gorjoyce.

After a few early morning calls, the hares were united and things were brought back on track. Over to Courtesan.

Blower's hair was clearly freshly coiffed for the occasion and Double Entry's dress was exposing the local STD. Luckily it was the Subscriber Trunk Dialling code for Hitchin! The Count braved the February weather in style with a sleeveless, off the shoulder number.

A more urban route than usual, but with sunny views across the river Hiz. Luckily no one fell in like Henry VIII, who allegedly has a big pole and tried to vault to the other side, but his size and technique let him down and he plopped (that a very bad choice of word Courtesan) straight into the water.

The group followed a slight detour into the snowdrop carpeted woods a little earlier than the routemasters had planned, but it was well worth seeing the white beauties a second time.

Catch-It could not contain her excitement showing off the pics of the latest addition to her enlarged family. As good old Cliff would say, Congratulations and Celebrations are totally in order.

Sorry about the brevity of the closing circle bit. This is mainly the result of age related forgetfulness and the span of time between last week's run and me actually getting around to putting pen to paper. However, I do recall that the esteemed RA was in fine fettle and in particular recall the newbies slipping into their hash down-down roles with obedience and enthusiasm. We hope to see them again.

Just one final thing. Wasn't the pub great? Very welcoming with possibly one of the best spreads of traditional pub grub and certainly the best cheese offerings ever enjoyed by H5. The Bricklayers Arms truly put other pubs in the shade. It was just a shame that I could not partake.

On-on to next week's run, which is The Thornton Arms in Everton and as brought to you by the ever-dependable Count and the truly charming Atomic. We do not expect the sort of shenanigans that were such a characteristic of this week's (err! last week's) run.

Big hugs

Courtesan & el Capitain