Not again!!!

Hello you good and patient people!

I shall not trouble you with titles and sizes etc, but here is some work in collage that I managed to produce on my recent trip to France.

But let's get to the chase; the 7*s!!!!

The 7*s lived up to its own slightly surreal reputation tonight. Almost empty at eight: thirty, there were perhaps half a dozen drinkers, including a beautiful, tall young couple eating a very late Sunday lunch, and a cowboy in Stetson and pointy, tooled boots. It reminded me of 'Midnight Cowboy' until I heard his Cornish accent, and his name; "Seth". I realised then that I was in that famous novel by Stella Gibbons.

The pub has a new 'chef,' as I might have mentioned before, and as it was Sunday evening, instead of throwing away the leftover roast potatoes and parsnips from lunchtime, they were presented in a dish on the bar. What a good idea! He is a nice young lad who seems to have settled in and who is eager to please.

Ms Gibbons would have been delighted with the 7*s. Seth was a man of few words (like most Cornishmen of course). But he had the perfect physique for films, if only there was a talent spotter from MGM drinking 'Proper Job' with a dash of lime in the 7*s this evening.

One of the landlord's sons is a powerful rugby man, and tonight he asked us if we thought he had broken his arm! He could move his fingers OK but was quite unable to rotate his wrist when asked. What with that and the swelling and deformation it seemed to me quite likely that he had broken his radius. We drinkers persuaded him to go to the fracture clinic at Treliske in the morning.

Apparently he had made a "sweep" at an opponent's neck, but the chap had put his arms up to defend himself and our hero had hit his elbow. I may have completely misunderstood all that, in which case I apologise without reserve.

Pip pip etc, The Leg .......