Closed

This is my local pub. It's two minutes from my front door. Or slightly less if I'm racing against Joe. In these austerity times they have closed for the month of January. Which is a pain as that means I have to walk four minutes to the less local local pub and it's constantly shifting range of four real ales and its open fire and basket reserved for the whippet. Which is even more of a shame, as after visiting my bereaved pal and talking about his son for much of the morning I could really do with a pint. However, that additional walking time gives time for further reflection and I also have a load of work to get done so best knuckle down. Onwards.