Cheers!

Here in the UK we're actually having a sunny day, which is a great and unusual event. The Husband is away playing cricket and I'm keeping an eye on the tennis whilst stealing his beer. He's done several people favours over the past week and although he refuses payment, he often gets presents, most of which are of the alcoholic variety. One job he did was drilling up a driveway to access a blocked drain. The ladies who owned the house asked him what he liked as a drink. One guessed, 'Don't tell me... you're a real ale man, aren't you?' The Husband, not wanting to offend, agreed, congratulated her on her knowledge of the male species, and came home to his glass of chilled peach schnapps. The wife, on the other hand, is a real ale lady ('Lady'? Some may argue...) so is gleefully clearing space in the cupboard.  

Another reason to love Southwold

I find it annoying that, when I order a pint of ale in a pub, it always gets passed to The Husband. My Sexist Uncle believes that women should not be allowed to order pints as it's not feminine. I suppose he thinks we should drink sweet white wine, preferably whilst wearing a flowery dress and getting ready to cook the dinner.

I like malt whisky, and was introduced to the more interesting varieties by a Scottish landlady when I was 18. Every night whilst on holiday in the Highlands, my parents and I went to a village pub where I worked my way along a shelf of bottles. A holiday highlight was a visit to the Glenfiddich distillery where I was allowed the tiniest taste of 40 year old malt. I was told never to add ice or any type of mixer, and to always buy the oldest I could afford. It's not my fault I now have a very expensive taste in Scotch. Mine's a Glenmorangie, in case you're buying. 

The ale thing started slightly earlier. I think I was about eight when my Dad and Yorkshire-Grandad were drinking beers in the garden. As they snoozed in the sun, I drained their glasses of Greene King IPA and went indoors reeking of spilt beer and feeling rather sick. All three of us got a telling off from my Nan.

I hope this post doesn't make me out to be a raging alcoholic, but there's nothing like a glass of beer on a Summer's evening. I especially like it when The Husband does jobs for our friends up the road. They belong to The Times wine club, and their gifts really do help me to unwind after a manic Brownie evening. Cheers, all!