On route to Midsomer Norton on Wednesday my bride and I called into Bath for lunch and simply wanted to park the motor for as long as it took to consume same.

Imagine my chagrin when after I had parked and then saw the sign calling for £4 of my hard earned cash just for the pleasure of the walk into town. Now admittedly you could stay for up to four hours for the same amount but £4 forless than an hour is a bit steep. Even Oxford isn’t that bad. The sign telling me how much they were holding my car to ransom wasn’t displayed very well and I felt compelled to telephone the authorities for a whinge.

Now I admit I am a grumpy old man but frankly I quite enjoy it. I called the parking people explaining the last time I was robbed at least they had the courtesy to wear a mask. Didn’t do any good of course but I treasured the moment telling them Dick Turpin could learn a thing or two from them. It made me feel better anyway. Oh yes.Now back to things theatrical.

‘The Accrington Pals’ continues to come together and I am looking forward to the performances at the end of November. It really is a strong piece of theatre and as I have said before very emotional. The Petticoat Line that now runs the drama group has installed a three line whip to ensure we are rehearsing eight nights a week and my social life is in danger I can tell you. Anyway the set is up and it does look good I must say. Full marks to the crew for this and the publicity is starting to go out.

The posters are really good and full marks to Rob Hall for this. Had an e-mail from old Chuffer this week all excited ‘cos the lady he had met on the Bournemouth trip (see last weeks offering) had telephoned that day. The lady (we’ll call her Marylinn-note the spelling) was on the phone he says for twenty minutes…now Chuffer be careful you know what happened last time……this saga is beginning to pan out like those Nescafe TV advertisements of a few years ago-will they?-Won’t they? Knowing Chuffer he probably will. Story of the week concerns a friend of mine who is a fishing fanatic. Last Saturday morning he got up early, dressed quietly, made a packed lunch, grabbed the dog, slipped quietly into the garage to hook the boat up to the car, and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour. The wind was blowing 50 mph. So he pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio, and discovered that the weather would be bad throughout the day. He went back into the house, quietly undressed, and slipped back into bed.

There he cuddled up to his wife's back, now with a different anticipation, and whispered, 'The weather out there is terrible darling.' His loving wife of 20 years replied, 'Can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in this?' He still doesn't know to this day if she was joking, but he’s stopped fishing.