Today

Taking advantage of my retired status to spend some time lolling in the garden in the sun. We bought some new comfy loungers, 2 bottles of Pimm's, lemonade (diet, of course) and all the necessary accoutrements. We'd already had a pub lunch (shocking life I lead) and I'd had some wine. Paul had had some beer.

Got home, made a huge jug of Pimm's with lemonade, strawberries, cucumber, mint. Put up the comfy loungers and sunshades, slapped on the factor 60, got out my not-too demanding book and lounged. So did Paul. After a while, dozed off. Woke to find Paul topping up the jug.

Drank some more. So did Paul. Later Paul had some wine. Later still, some Archer's. While enjoying the dying embers of the chimenea, he had some port.

Middle of the night he wasn't too good at all. Paracetamol and a couple of hasty visits to the bathroom and he went off to sleep again. A bit delicate in the morning.

In My Day

I remember a visit once, back in 1975, to my friend Sue . She'd got a new boyfriend who had a couple of children aged about 9 or 10 and they lived in one of those little 2-up, 2-down houses behind Kemptown in Brighton.

Had a lovely meal and good chat. Boyfriend suggested that he and Paul go for a drink at the local corner pub. Sue and I stayed behind to keep an eye on kids and to chat.

Paul always insisted that it was the pickled eggs that did it - not the several pints of Newcastle Brown followed by a goodly number of shots of Old Crow Bourbon. And who am I to argue?

What I do know is that he had a rather disturbed night.

The following morning we had to return to Eastbourne. I was not a driver in those days so nothing for it - Paul had to drive. I'm absolutely sure that his alcohol levels were still well beyond legal.

As we drove through Lewes (no bypass in those days) Paul felt the urgent call that most of us experience with a shocking hangover. We were in a line of slow-moving cars; couldn't stop. I think a vest of Paul's, dragged from our overnight bag, did the duty. He clutched it with one hand over his mouth, clutched the steering wheel with the other. And we don't think that the policemen noticed.

I suppose life would be a lot more dull if we always learnt from our mistakes.