I thought I'd update you on our local. It's now just two more days until the changing of the guard. We're all having a great time at the non-stop celebrations while holding back the feelings of depression at the imminent change of landlord.
Last night we had a special Mummers play (do a wiki on that one) performance followed by a quiz. This was a bit of a shambles as the pub was full to bursting point. So much so that we had to do the Mummers outside. There is nothing like retiring for bringing in the punters! There was a BBQ on the go and kids games yesterday and a jazz picnic today - plus I can smell from here that the BBQ's been fired up again which suits us fine. Amazingly the beer hasn't run out yet but it's surely only a matter of time: two of the three draft bitters have gone, plus the lager (which we don't really do here anyway - the landlord sells it at a ludicrous price so he can have a chuckle when someone buys it). Oh, and there's no gin, nor ginger wine, nor cointreau. Actually there probably is, it's just that the outgoing landlord can't be arsed to get the bottle down from the shelf. There is still an ancient bottle of cooking sherry which mine host managed to flog me a schooner of instead.
So the whole thing has the feel of the end of an era, if not the end of the world about it. We're all fiddling while the Gate Inn burns. As well as opening up a fiendishly complex spread betting book on exactly when the beer barrel runs dry, I'm thinking of organising some prayer sessions for the future of the pub. Or perhaps building a wicker man in the garden as a warning to the new tenants. If I can get a suitable volunteer for the Britt Ekland role we'll be laughing.
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