Like a bad head in the morning

A fun bash in the festive upstairs of a pub last night, with as many of the Christmas lot as could make it. Got to see some people I’ve not seen in ages, and one or two I’d not met before at all. And I also now know how to pronounce "Auchterlonie". Good eggs all round, and S. and B. yanked the Dr and I to another pub afterwards, which seemed like such a good wheeze at the time. Not so clever this morning.

Oh, it isn’t even morning any more. Oops.

S. sent me this uisge bertha-fest, harking back to our wine-selling days. For the love of God, no. "I don’t think I’d survive," I said.

"Quite," he agreed. "But if you had to pick a way to go..."

Worst review of Time Travellers yet:

"By no means the best Doctor Who time travel story I've read, and Guerrier’s supporting cast are often woefully underdeveloped, but if you can struggle through the pedestrian opening two-thirds of this novel you will at least be rewarded with a cracking finale."

Lawrence Conquest, Reviews – The Time Travellers, Outpost Gallifrey.

Luckily, I am off to see some chums’ new kitten. Also I am helluva-tough.

Especially in the brain, just now.