Longface

A horse walks into a bar, the barman says "why the long face"?

Away in Crickhowell, celebrating a mate's birthday. Twelve-mile walk on Brecon Beacons, then we gentlemen whiled away a pleasant couple of hours in the pub watching the rugby while the ladies snoozed/bathed; then wolfed down a hearty dinner.

A fine weekend, although the walk made it clear that the arthritis thing going on in my feet is something to be taken seriously. A few too many marathons, I guess.

This is a horse. They wander around on the Brecon Beacons.