What an awful week. It started on Monday-there’s a surprise-when one of my sons was taken into the John Radcliffe with a grumbling appendix which they removed Monday night to find an abscess on it. Nasty.

The rest of the week we all endured the appalling weather conditions which had lost its appeal by Monday night. Hats of to the NHS though, great service, from doctor’s surgery to operating theatre in less than four and a half hours is pretty good I reckon.

Unfortunately the same cannot be said for the parking at the JR. Adding on new wings and extra facilities is great but no one seems to have thought to increase the parking spaces hence a nightmare scenario of driving round and round looking for the non existent space. Please don’t say going on the park-and-ride, OK for shopping but not visiting someone in hospital on a daily basis. And the jobsworth who, complete with clipboard, told me I “Couldn’t park here” when everybody else had, came very close I can tell you.

Anyway my week didn’t improve but I am sure if you are still with me that’s enough of my whingeing. However the news today that The Swan at Faringdon has closed and with it my favourite Sunday Night Pub Quiz is the final straw.

Hang on I haven’t mentioned refuse collection have I? What’s all this to do with amateur dramatics I hear you cry. The answer is nothing. Anyway letters flew from my PC this week (Non were printed I have to say) about the incompetence of the district council to organise a refuse collection since Christmas. Four weeks with no collection is just unacceptable. This is 2010 for God’s sake, and as for the Royal Mail-don’t get me started on that. I bet 100 years ago the post got through then snow or no snow. Of course what they didn’t have then is ambulance chasing lawyers suing the pants off everybody should they fall over.

Do I feel better now? No not really. Anyway Now we get to am dram matters. Club night this week consisted of reading through the proposed April play, Female of the Species. Must try to get along soon.

The annual dinner is on the horizon, unfortunately I shan’t be there this year. First one I have missed for 38 years I reckon.

I see Breakaleg productions are putting on ‘I’ll Get My Man’ by Philip King at the Unicorn in Abingdon the week after next. Ah yes Philip King-my kind of playwright-terrific I hope to be there.

It runs from 27th January until the 30th. 7.30pm. Tickets £6 Wed/Thu 7.30pm, £6 Sat 2.30pm, £8 Fri/Sat 7.30pm. Obtainable from The Book Store, The Precinct, Abingdon or by post to 40 Castle St, Steventon, OX13 6SR .

Synopsis;-“Take a lonely parson with a domineering sister, a famous TV star pursued by a rock-chick, a husband hunting widow and an irate Bishop, mix them together and hilarious consequences abound”.

I promise to be in a better frame of mind next week, by which time Old Chuffer will have returned from Malta no doubt with hilarious tales of his exploits. Watch this space.

This week’s tale tells of Jack who decided to go skiing with his buddy, Bob. So they loaded up Jack's minivan and headed north.

After driving for a few hours, they got caught in a terrible blizzard. So they pulled into a nearby farm and asked the attractive lady who answered the door if they could spend the night.

'I realize it's terrible weather out there and I have this huge house all to myself, but I'm recently widowed,' she explained. 'I'm afraid the neighbours will talk if I let you stay in my house.'

'Don't worry,' Jack said.. 'We'll be happy to sleep in the barn. And if the weather breaks, we'll be gone at first light.' The lady agreed, and the two men found their way to the barn and settled in for the night.

Come morning, the weather had cleared, and they got on their way. They enjoyed a great weekend of skiing.

But about nine months later, Jack got an unexpected letter from an attorney. It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but he finally determined that it was from the attorney of that attractive widow he had met on the ski weekend..

He dropped in on his friend Bob and asked, "Bob, do you remember that good-looking widow from the farm we stayed at on our ski holiday up north about 9 months ago?"

"Yes, I do." Said Bob..

"Did you, er, happen to get up in the middle of the night, go up to the house and pay her a visit?"

"Well, um, yes!," Bob said, a little embarrassed about being found out, 'I have to admit that I did."

"And did you happen to give her my name instead of telling her your name?"

Bob's face turned beet red and he said, "Yeah, look, I'm sorry, buddy. I'm afraid I did.' 'Why do you ask?"

"She just died and left me everything."