Barton wedding...

Went to Lozman and Dee's wedding in Barton-upon-Humber. Naturally, we'd done no planning in advance of jumping in the car so when we arrived in the town with about ten minutes to spare we had no clue where St Augustine Webster Catholic Church was. So we asked a pair of Cornish pasty weilding pedestrians.

"Can you tell us where the Catholic church is?"

"We're not from round here," they replied, with a hint of menace. "We're only here to deliver bad news to people."

We didn't have time - nor want - to hang about to find out what that bad news may be. But we did spend the afternoon slightly puzzled and a little bit disturbed.

Barton beer...

Finn visited his second beer festival in his six and a half month existence today when we headed over to Barton to catch up with Lozman and D. We ended up heading to the nearby park, where the 10th Annual Barton Lions Beer Festival was taking place in a marquee and fenced-off grassy area. Real ale is nice, of course (well, the stuff that doesn't taste of vomit, that is), but does have a tendency to contort the face with every mouthful.

Last Saturday's Wembley shindig feels as if it took place months ago now, although the city's heady optimism remains. I was included in the Mail's post-Wembley commemorative special, a mildly amusing quote attributed to me on one page, a photograph of our travelling party of four on another. Nice that I am within the pages of a document that people will be hanging on to for a few years to come.