Before we arrived for dinner the hostess had to hose the blood off the patio doors. So much was running down the glass it made the room dark. Having ascertained there hadn't been an axe murder she went back inside, perplexed and more than a little worried.
Later a noise sounding like a mad man pounding on an upstairs window disturbed our meal. We crept upstairs to see a large crow flinging itself at the window while another stood on the flat roof as if keeping guard. It was like being extras in Hitchcock's The Birds.
The attack on the house continues
New people are running the pub. They effortlessly display skills that most publicans find impossible to master - saying hello, goodbye, thank you and making you feel as if they are glad to see you
Biggest problem on returning home is the socialising and our lack of selfcontrol when offered alchohol. Even the latest TOPs play involved 4 pints of superb real ale
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