I've not posted for a week because I haven't been around. Which is a good reason for not posting.
We've been once again to our favourite corner of Wales. We've been going there for something like 13 years now. It saves buying maps, I suppose.
Anyway, this year we were joined by Brother no.1 and his wife, which placed a whole new dimension on proceedings. Brother no. 1 is the oldest, most sensible of us all. As a result, we should have expected a certain degree of responsibility and good behaviour.
How quickly the expectations were to be cruelly dashed.
This, for instance, was the view from the steep hill - no, the Steep Hill - he decided two of us were going to climb.
Katie and Brother no. 1's wife decided, sensibly to stay at ground level. Mind you, the views were good:
My brother and I have over 80 years between us. We have mortgages and other grown-up appendages. We could easily have discussions about human rights, macroeconomic policy and the arts. Instead we chose to complain to our long-suffering wives, over pints of Brains*, about jetpacks and the lack thereof.
"Look," said B#1. "A stream! Let's play Pooh Sticks. I've already got a stick."
And he did. Big brothers are pretty handy like that. Although I'm pretty certain the game of Pooh Sticks requires more than one Stick - the clue's in the name, after all.
Nevertheless, we stood and played Pooh Stick. Our Stick got Stuck, so we threw stones at it to clear it. As it drifted onwards, we celebrated. "On, on it goes! To the ocean, the spiritual home of all Pooh Sticks!" It's probably best that our wives weren't there to witness this regression.
One more thing. Wales in late September, yet we had warm sunshine for a week. Proof?
That's B#1 at the start and end of the video, fiddling with his phone. The things some people will do to get a decent signal.
*(Brains is a Welsh brewer. We hadn't actually been transformed into Zombies).