Well as I said previously that it was a nice warm day and we had been out shopping for such garden stuff as veggie garden soil and horse poo, I thought a beer would go down very well.
So we get to the Pub, in this case the Royal George and we have a short beer tasting when she samples a few before deciding on what suits her palate - me, just give me a bloody beer, I'm parched after that horse poo thing.
So after Sue discovers that her purse is still in the car, I then have to shout the beers. Not only that but I carry them out to the beer garden - not much of a garden but a parched dusty soil area with rotted garden furniture.
BUT, there's this wonderful old timber building with a picket fence in the corner of the beer garden.
If only buildings could talk and tell us their history. Who lived here? For how long?, did children grow up here?
So many stories to tell.