Bank Holiday in England, N. Ireland and Wales. Wake up at 8.30 on the moors above Greenhow, not too far from Stump Cross Caverns. Feel slightly less like collapsing with pneumonia today, although today I'm still snuffling and wheezing somewhat.
After a makeshift breakfast of baked beans and coffee Pete, Chris and I march up a hillside which has a commanding view of the whole of the Dales. Get back to the vans at about 9.30 - my cold is cleared now. Drive home with Chris. ________________.
Arrive home at 10.30am and receive severe injuries from Mum & Dad about THAT PARTY.
Mum gives me a complete run down on how many glasses have been broken, and she demands to know just WHO has slept in her bed. Bloody Hell, I feel like Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I remain silent on the subject. What can I possibly say to defend myself? I know I deceived them by having an orgy behind their backs, but boys will be boys won't they? To console them I take them to the Commercial at 1pm. Prop up the bar therein until 3 and we all come home in a pleasant, less explosive frame of mind.
My good deed of the day is to cut Mrs Monkman's lawns at 4 o'clock and later entertain her over a cup of tea. Feel dog tired all evening and go to bed at 11 o'clock.
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