That's definitely not me on the far right in pink pringle socks and a flowery pringle blouse. Nor is that Mr K next to me in genuine plus fours, diamond cut socks and brylcreemed hair!!
Secretly I thought, while everyone else was laughing at him, that he looked pretty darned dashing, like a pre-war gent as seen on all those period dramas.

If you don't know the rules of pub golf they amount to drinking lots, fast. Honestly pub crawls do nothing for me but we had such a crack last night. I ducked out around midnight 'cos we had people coming over today and I needed to be marginally sociable...or at least sober! Mr K and a mate who was sleeping over rolled in around half three, singing and talking absolute rubbish for 45 minutes.

It was a close run thing but we managed to get the house looking like we're a normal regular family by the time our friends arrived for dinner and not, in fact, like a bunch of crazys who have friends crashing over and singing Ramstein as they lie on the top landing and discussing molluscs and walruses.