On the Saturday morning Emma and I popped into town to go "shopping". This of course involved me following Emma around various shops......

grumbling and moaning and generally being a pain in the arse. This lasted until I put forward the suggestion that she can finish off her shopping and I'll meet her in the pub. Amazingly she went for the idea. Sweeeeeet.

So I pootled off to the Hogshead and nursed a pint of Stella waiting for Emma to arrive. She duly arrived and we had a few more drinks. We had quite cool seats that were beside an open ummm wall of the pub so that I could watch everyone walking up and down the street. After a few beers Emma and I decided to sit and criticise the people going past. Fat, thin, ugly, short, bad dressers...whatever - they were all criticised.

After our beer drinking extravaganza we wandered over to the "Hale Wine Bar" where we had reservations. We ate fine food and the Jones turned up for a quick beer. Whilst he was still there Lesley and her new man popped in to say hello. After eating we sat outside finishing our drinks and then went home.......severely splattered!

Sunday was much more restrained. We [ well Emma actually ] made a picnic and then went down to Dunham Massey park. It's a massive National Trust park and is well worth a visit. It is one of the few National Trust parks that haven't closed down because of the foot and mouth palava. They do have a massive fenced off section where the deer and stuff wander around but there was more than enough open space to find a secluded spot. We ate our picnic, read our books and frollicked the afternoon away beneath a blazing sun. All very civilised.

Sunday evening was just a cabbage before the TV and generally snooze and be lazy evening.

The high point of Sunday was of course a complete abstinence of alcohol. The good thing about not drinking is that I have the weirdest dreams......here's Sunday nights dream:

The dream began as a very close up image of the moon. The image also had various bits of computer text overlaid upon it, like x, y, z co-ordinates of the image I was looking at, magnification, speed etc. Kinda like the readout out you see in sci-fi films. As I was looking I became aware that I was in a space suit, kinda doing one of those space walk things with a jet pack on my back.

I decided, for some unknown reason that the moon should be taken back to earth so I kind of threw a tractor beam onto it and started pulling it back towards earth. The moon took great offence at this and began chasing me. I turned and faced the earth, it was just a small bluey greeny planet a long long way away. So I fired up the thrusters on my jet pack and screamed back to earth at full speed. Every now and again I would look over my shoulder and the moon always seemed to be gaining on me.

As I approached earth I knew I had to slow down or would burn up on re-entry but the moon was so close behind me that I couldn't. I then became aware that I had a snowboard strapped to my feet. I got myself in the correct orientation and started carving and jumping around the atmosphere on the snowboard, with the moon desperately trying to follow me. In my dream I became aware of being really really hot.

As I moved through the atmosphere suddenly all fears of the moon were gone. I'd ditched my snowboard and spacesuit and was freefalling. The continents whizzed by beneath me in a blur. On my left wrist I had an altimeter, but it only registered 0 -> 13,000 ft. At this point I'd guessed that I was about 60,000 ft up and the altimeter was useless. I watched it zip past the 0 mark several times as I was flying around the earth trying to find the UK. The odd thing was that I could still see cars on the ground, even though I could see entire continents from my vantage point.

Then I was sat in the living room of my mothers old house. The altimeter had changed to something resembling a prototype board made from perspex with a digital display counting down. Even though I was sat on the ground something told me that my body was still falling through the sky and I'd have to pull my chute to save my body. The digits on the countdown suddenly stopped, but for some reason I knew I hadn't hit the ground. I flipped over the altimeter/prototype board to discover it had no batteries. I scrabbled around and found some batteries. The readout out then said 4000ft, which is a height at which you should be considering pulling your parachute. This I somehow did and then my body suddenly appeared in my mother's old living room with me and all was well once more.