These days a weekend in Folkestone is a bit of a terrifying prospect for me. I used to really enjoy going down and I still do but it seems like our weekends are getting larger and larger each time. The last two times it has taken me a good couple of days to recover once I get home. I'm sure it can't just be that I am not up to such bouts of excessive drinking any more, it's not like we don't practice regularly at home. Maybe I've just got so good at it that I don't even notice that I'm drinking twice as much as I used to. Maybe I will have to employ Paul's trick of passing out on the carpet at about midnight so as to avoid consuming any more.
Dad's 60th birthday today. Somehow I feel that the Two Towers on video is not really a fitting present for such a milestone. Lucky he's easily pleased.