Nov. 5th, 2006

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To Cams Alders to see the girls take on Portsmouth Ladies. I'm happy to say the tea bar still serves the best bacon rolls in England, and the barman even called me Trevor again :)

Alas, those were the only highlights of the afternoon. I sat in the stand with Jenna D's and Sam's families. Penny, who wasn't playing today, and Sam's sister Hayley spent the game encouraging the little kids in the group to shout 'Come on you Hawks'. Although our defence and midfield played well, we lacked firepower up front - all our chances were either shot wide, blocked by Pompey defenders or aimed straight at the goalie. Meanwhile Portsmouth's Kirsty McGee - a player I've always admired - scored two brilliant goals, one in each half. As I got up to go at the final whistle Lynn, Jenna's mum, observed "At least we weren't humiliated," reflecting that Portsmouth are four leagues higher and had fielded seven first team players.

Got to the bus stop to see from the timetable that there wasn't a bus going my way for 20 minutes, so crossed the road to the Bird In Hand. I asked how much a pint of Scrumpy Jack was and was told £2.60. More than I had on me apart from my bus fare, so settled for a coke and two songs on the juke box. Just as I began sipping my coke, a late bus stopped at the bus stop :( At least it was the 88 which would have taken me all round the houses.

Back out at the stop, when the 86 came into view my heart momentarily sank, as it had 'Sorry I'm not in service' on the front. The driver and I eyeballed each other for a few moments, then I noticed the bus had passengers on and put my hand out. The driver pulled over and stopped the bus. As I got on, he apologised for the sign and got up and changed it.

With home near, the bus suddenly missed out the whole of Stoke Road and headed straight for the Gosport Ferry. When I asked the driver about it, he said Stoke Road was blocked off because of the stabbing this morning and another incident that the police were also investigating. I wearily walked the mile home.

Thank goodness we didn't have to get changed for tonight's mayoral function. As it was the Basingstoke Firework Fiesta, out in the open, I was able to simply keep on my ordinary clothes and wear my civic badge over my done-up HWFC fleece jacket. When we got to the VIP tent Tony the Mayor of Basingstoke urged me to hit the drinks tent, where there was real ale; I managed to bag the last bottle of Old Speckled Hen. His Mayoress Margaret was more concerned that I should get my share of the barbecue food. Jackie, who did us so proud with Tuesday's breakfast spread, was serving at the food table, though she insisted the man frying behind her take the credit for tonight's grub. Had a burger with onions and some excellent relish.

Lovely Sue from Winchester, Jim and Maria, John and Margaret from Rushmoor, and Pat the County Council Chairman were also there and we all milled around talking among ourselves until the fireworks began. They were spectacular! Lots of colour, very impressive ones shooting high into the sky then exploding into a blaze of glory, a few massive bangs, and a glorious finale of two huge panoramic supernovas of red and blue. And all to a background of non-stop 80s music :D After the show we talked a bit more to the other civic dignitaries, Sue told us how she'd lit Winchester's city bonfire last night, and Margaret, Maria, Pat and I all divulged to each other that we're Guy Fawkes Night fanatics. We reminisced about bonfires in back gardens, Catherine wheels, Roman candles, jacket potatoes and flapjacks. Tony joked that now we were full of the barbecue food and the free beer/wine, we all had to go out into the huge fun fair and go on the Big Dipper! Instead we said our goodbyes and all wended our way home.

On the drive home Arron, chauffeuring us for the first time today, surfed the radio stations looking for one with decent reception and settled on Basingstoke's station 2-Ten - who'd been providing the pre-firework show entertainment and the 80s music! They were broadcasting an Orson concert. When we lost it on the M3, Arron surfed again and settled on Power FM - which had the same Orson concert! Clearly being networked. My mother wanted something more mellow on, so Arron surfed once more and alighted on Radio Solent. That was playing Dean Martin, more to her taste...

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The Man Who Loves Laura Bassett

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