The loneliness of a long distance hasher

Hello, is that Social Services Direct?

Festive Sunday Hashing yesterday. Very fine morning, very fine turnout of assorted Chrimbo fancy dressing (top marks to Crushy for managing to free associate Christmas and fishnets), very fine trail, only marred by my rather shaky understanding of Sunday hash rules and a regrettable backlog of hash t-shirts waiting to be washed. Apparently my one remaining (marathon) t-shirt that I did wear was a bit of faux pas and was suitably punished. Well, you live and learn.

Certainly it was an educational experience for both The Heir and The Spare, who were dragged along on all the wheeled devices we could muster. The Heir got off relatively lightly with the basis for just a few interesting future therapy sessions (watching the distribution of the back catalogue of various Ann Summers wind-up toys should give him some food for thought). However, The Spare, poor thing, was dragged into the circle and given a baby down down from his father's finger. I understand this is not recommended by 21st century childcare experts but it must be said he was very jolly for most of the rest of the day.

posted by Hermione @ 10:45 PM