In between drinking and eating and more drinking we decided to take a trip on the Severn Valley Railway, an old stream railway running between Bridgnorth and Kidderminster, this being the sort of thing that people in their 50s do. I loved it.
|What's not to love?|
|Picture from here, with apologies for swirly thing|
We got off at a village stop and headed straight for the pub. Where more regrettable aspects of modern life were revealed. Have you ever seen such a thing as this:
|It's a travesty!|
I tell you the country is going to hell in a handcart!
While I'm moaning about reprehensible things (like modern trains and 'ploughman's lunches'), the other-half behaved disgracefully on the train. Look what he did
|Look mum, no head!|
Anyway it was a lovely weekend and helped keep my mind of this Thursday, when I get the results of the latest CT scans, oh fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck (which is much like the sound the train made as it trundled through the Shropshire countryside). Till next time (when I'll be either gleeful or miserable), stay tuned.