The Carpenters Arms

The Carpenters in Loughton is THE only pub for the local folk to enjoy a good natter at a reasonable price. . It's quiet in the week and a tad more rowdy as the w/e comes on. . But all in all a bar within the M25 that'll not only turn a blind eye to the odd discreet roll-up at the appropriate times but also server the most excellent 'Beer from the Coast' Adnams Broadside. The beer of any good local. . More later.

Sister Sax

Back at The Wheatsheaf pub. 1st time in six months. The home news is new bands and above all new management, as of the 25th August. A promise of good food and real ales along with a manager that has plans for a down n out pub in Loughton . Lets see.

A mighty fine country pub

This pub deserves much , much more patrionage. The ale is Adnams and the food is fresh each day and fantastic, . The Queens Head , Blyford, go there!

The Best Place im the World.

Our bed, made especially attractive today by my most beloved chosen one, my Lady R ;-) Mmmmm.

Back for More

No wonder i have to call this blog Amnesia , if the last 2 times i've looked up to check where i am at 4pm in the afternoon it's here, add to that the necessity of the pain killers taken for pain associated with the missing arm ( re the last post) , then i NEED this blog , not just to speak with the world but to simply keep track of my movements!?

1 more thing to take off at night.

Hat, Coat, Scarf and Arm. This very same arm has been with me 14 years now. I'm growing pretty attached to it, you know, - How one does about arms? . It's been another long day for me and my arm, but beings as it's formed from the carbon fibre i had put aside for a bike exhaust project at the time of my accident , it doesn't tend to let me down.

The Wheatsheaf Pub Loughton.

The beer, the peanuts, the rollup, - one of the few pleasures i look forward to at the end of a long day.
Only nowdays in jolly old England I have to stop relaxing with my drink, and after taking the visual abuse of an image showing a cancerous neck growth on the back flap of my bacci packet, i have to then run outside -from a pub which has never seen, a child, a non smoker or, god forbid, a ham frickin' sandwich -to smoke in the unusually sub-zero temps of London in February to 'enjoy' my fag. . Where's William Wallace when you need him eh!? CRY FREEDOM!!

Purr

Sunny bum , that'd be the Puss'cat. Viewed through an avenue of indoor winter foliage and Smoking, Reading, and listening paraphenalia.