Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
Old Crocks Ramble
The Old Crocks Ramble –No 214 - 25th April 2007
Those Present – Lafayette, Muscles Matt, B.T., Froggy, Bronco, plus sort of Mystery Guest.
Froggy was still Weltmeister this month and guided us all to Vic’s on Lewes station where we sat down and did a pre- ramble stock taking.
Lafayette had had keyhole surgery and his keyhole was still poorly; Muscles Matt had been bending down doing something suspect and had done his back in; Bronco was just about held together with Sellotape and Sandyballs had phoned in sick saying he couldn’t stomach the idea of another ramble. All in all not the best of auguries, you might agree.
After having received management guidance on how to proceed ( Make a plan, stick to the broad outline, don’t give anybody any choices and if they dissent tell them to fuck off etc) Froggy put the NERDS on a train to Berwick. What he hadn’t foreseen was that most of the Lewes Geriatric Ramble Soc. were boarding the same train and appeared to be going to the same destination. The only saving grace was they all seemed older and more infirm than the NERDS. Froggy knew we would have to race to the first pub quick before Old Trout Syndrome could set in. ( For the benefit of new readers this is when you can’t get a drink at the bar because of lovely old people before you in the queue procrastinating and wrangling among themselves about the cost of a round).
Sure enough, Lewes Geriatsoc all got off with us at Berwick. Lafayette decided to seduce one with his charm, and politely enquired in which direction they were bound. When told they were headed towards Alfriston (the opposite direction from us) he raved on about how attractive a destination it was and how only posh people went there so that said Old Trout wondered whether she should have worn her diamonds for this trip and whether she ought to curtsey to the yokels there.
We were led at a cracking pace along a cycle path to The Cricketers where Lafayette had instructed Froggy to tell everyone we were having lunch – no question. Hurray, we had got there first although there were tell tale signs of Old Farts massing outside in the orchard. Inside we bagged the biggest table and set about demolishing 4- pint jugs of Harvey’s before anybody really old could get a look in. Matt praised B.T. for his long Michael Heseltine-type hair, and B.T. said that if he didn’t shut up he’d jump on his bad back and tell every one how he’d really done his injury.
Lafayette was looking with interest at the menu board which promised the delights of creaky mushrooms on steak. Sadly, the chef said it was a spelling mistake.(creamy mushrooms – geddit!) Anyway, after an exhorbitantly priced lunch which was really only so so, we headed over the fields towards the Rose and Crown where we renewed our acquaintance with the landlord and his parrot-in-a-cage. The parrot had originally been an Old Trout who had had the temerity to get to the head of the queue at lunchtime one day, and had dithered so much that she had been transformed and incarcerated by a wicked fairy in the pay of the NERDS. Serves her right –should have stayed at home!
Apparently the next day was Froggy’s birthday which his family were all feigning to be ignorant of to get out of having to buy him presents, so the NERDS rapidly changed the subject and wondered what was happening with Sandyballs and his rambling malaise. Right on cue we got a phone call with a grovelling apology and the news that Sandyballs had miraculously got better and could he join us for a drink. An extraordinary NERDS committee was convened and by a narrow majority the decision was positive. Froggy was pissed off thinking that the ramble had gone all democratic. Quote – “This is my ramble and you’ll all do as I’m (sic) told.” unquote. Grumbling at the effect this was having on our various ailments, we lurched to our feet to carry on to the rendezvous at the Barley Mow.
Sandyballs had apparently been inhaling a new brand of crack cocaine which had upset his tummy, ( Bronco at least had the politeness to go behind a bush to shoot up) but Sandyballs had got over this and decided that life might be a bit short in his usual narcotics den since all his fellow addicts were lying around dead. A bit of fresh air in a musty pub would soon put him right, he thought.
With Sandyball’s arrival things went downhill – Froggy wanted to give him a powerpoint presentation of events so far, and a general squabble about the New Forest driving arrangements took place (Yes, B.T. it is you). Sandyballs decided he was going to be a mystery guest every month since you got to drink and eat chips and cut out the boring walking bits. After this we adjourned to the John Harvey in Lewes (some of us by car) and thereafter to the Cypo chip shop at the end of the road.
Another enjoyable outing thanks again to Froggy’s excellent organisational and management skills (plus a little help here and there) and we look forward to the New Forest Trip next month when his talents will really be put to the test. Happy birthday Froggy, at least your Mom loved you.
Lafayette.
Those Present – Lafayette, Muscles Matt, B.T., Froggy, Bronco, plus sort of Mystery Guest.
Froggy was still Weltmeister this month and guided us all to Vic’s on Lewes station where we sat down and did a pre- ramble stock taking.
Lafayette had had keyhole surgery and his keyhole was still poorly; Muscles Matt had been bending down doing something suspect and had done his back in; Bronco was just about held together with Sellotape and Sandyballs had phoned in sick saying he couldn’t stomach the idea of another ramble. All in all not the best of auguries, you might agree.
After having received management guidance on how to proceed ( Make a plan, stick to the broad outline, don’t give anybody any choices and if they dissent tell them to fuck off etc) Froggy put the NERDS on a train to Berwick. What he hadn’t foreseen was that most of the Lewes Geriatric Ramble Soc. were boarding the same train and appeared to be going to the same destination. The only saving grace was they all seemed older and more infirm than the NERDS. Froggy knew we would have to race to the first pub quick before Old Trout Syndrome could set in. ( For the benefit of new readers this is when you can’t get a drink at the bar because of lovely old people before you in the queue procrastinating and wrangling among themselves about the cost of a round).
Sure enough, Lewes Geriatsoc all got off with us at Berwick. Lafayette decided to seduce one with his charm, and politely enquired in which direction they were bound. When told they were headed towards Alfriston (the opposite direction from us) he raved on about how attractive a destination it was and how only posh people went there so that said Old Trout wondered whether she should have worn her diamonds for this trip and whether she ought to curtsey to the yokels there.
We were led at a cracking pace along a cycle path to The Cricketers where Lafayette had instructed Froggy to tell everyone we were having lunch – no question. Hurray, we had got there first although there were tell tale signs of Old Farts massing outside in the orchard. Inside we bagged the biggest table and set about demolishing 4- pint jugs of Harvey’s before anybody really old could get a look in. Matt praised B.T. for his long Michael Heseltine-type hair, and B.T. said that if he didn’t shut up he’d jump on his bad back and tell every one how he’d really done his injury.
Lafayette was looking with interest at the menu board which promised the delights of creaky mushrooms on steak. Sadly, the chef said it was a spelling mistake.(creamy mushrooms – geddit!) Anyway, after an exhorbitantly priced lunch which was really only so so, we headed over the fields towards the Rose and Crown where we renewed our acquaintance with the landlord and his parrot-in-a-cage. The parrot had originally been an Old Trout who had had the temerity to get to the head of the queue at lunchtime one day, and had dithered so much that she had been transformed and incarcerated by a wicked fairy in the pay of the NERDS. Serves her right –should have stayed at home!
Apparently the next day was Froggy’s birthday which his family were all feigning to be ignorant of to get out of having to buy him presents, so the NERDS rapidly changed the subject and wondered what was happening with Sandyballs and his rambling malaise. Right on cue we got a phone call with a grovelling apology and the news that Sandyballs had miraculously got better and could he join us for a drink. An extraordinary NERDS committee was convened and by a narrow majority the decision was positive. Froggy was pissed off thinking that the ramble had gone all democratic. Quote – “This is my ramble and you’ll all do as I’m (sic) told.” unquote. Grumbling at the effect this was having on our various ailments, we lurched to our feet to carry on to the rendezvous at the Barley Mow.
Sandyballs had apparently been inhaling a new brand of crack cocaine which had upset his tummy, ( Bronco at least had the politeness to go behind a bush to shoot up) but Sandyballs had got over this and decided that life might be a bit short in his usual narcotics den since all his fellow addicts were lying around dead. A bit of fresh air in a musty pub would soon put him right, he thought.
With Sandyball’s arrival things went downhill – Froggy wanted to give him a powerpoint presentation of events so far, and a general squabble about the New Forest driving arrangements took place (Yes, B.T. it is you). Sandyballs decided he was going to be a mystery guest every month since you got to drink and eat chips and cut out the boring walking bits. After this we adjourned to the John Harvey in Lewes (some of us by car) and thereafter to the Cypo chip shop at the end of the road.
Another enjoyable outing thanks again to Froggy’s excellent organisational and management skills (plus a little help here and there) and we look forward to the New Forest Trip next month when his talents will really be put to the test. Happy birthday Froggy, at least your Mom loved you.
Lafayette.
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