Saturday, 17 March 2012

A different type of brew

Despite being born and raised in a rural area, surrounded by greenery and rugged countryside, it is only over the last couple of years that Mrs Jones and I have started hill walking. Striving for buttocks like iron girders and thighs of chiselled steal, each weekend (except for those times when I can’t be arsed) I tramp the peaks and dales of my locality.

Mrs Jones in the hills of Lancashire, UK
Last Saturday, nearing home in the latter stages of a 10-mile hike, I was heard to proclaim, “I’d kill for a nice cup of tea”. Yes, I was actually getting excited in anticipation of a brew! The same man who, 30 years ago, was a renowned piss-head who would regularly imbibe a gallon-and-a-half of ale on a drunken bender was now getting misty at the prospect of a cuppa. Oh, how things have changed!



  1. I've always thought it a shame no one sees the first posts of a great blogger! So I always endeavour to go back and read the early entries. Great observations on aging!! It is rather astounding when you start to crave tea - or any other liquid without alcohol for that matter! Your blog is giving me such entertainment as my family makes the trek from Montreal back to Toronto. About a 6 hour drive. Just thought I'd throw that in there for fear you think I am a stalker!

  2. Have a safe journey to Toronto, Pam.

    Wishing you a happy New Year.