The Ritual Stuffing.

Until about 8 years ago, when the Raeburn Hotel closed down, you would have seen me and my cricket team murdering a well-earned Guinness or five on this very spot. Every year we would trudge down to Grange Cricket Club in Stockbridge and every year we would be on the wrong end of a right royal humping. This is where we'd have the match post mortem.
The hotel is now obviously closed but the ritual stuffing continues on an annual basis.

By the way, I blame you lot for the fact that I am now seen as being quite insane by my work colleagues. Your comments goaded me into yesterday's surreal blip, which they all saw today.

You owe me. Big Time.

(One small plus point was that Eric keeps chickens in his back garden and was delighted to be handed a magazine on the very subject)