Flopsy and Mopsy

Ahoy there, maties! We haven't yet been flooded out of our homes -- the water meadows of Winchester seem to be doing their bit and keeping us dry -- but it has rained a lot. By beer o'clock this evening, we were desperate to get out for some fresh air, so an expedition to one of our local hostelries was in order. En route, we passed a couple of girls taking the most enormous rabbits out for a walk. Somewhat odd, but also strangely appealing. The Black Boy on Wharf Hill was rather charming; a selection of independent ales on top, several dogs wandering around scrounging crisps, and lots of small rooms crammed full of comfy chairs and old stuff -- bus signs, shower heads, bits of dental equipment, etc. (Scandalously, there are also bookshelves enticingly filled with collections of interesting-looking books, but closer inspection reveals they are sawn in half! Sacrilege!) We spent a pleasant hour ensconced in deep armchairs, reading The Sun and marveling at the pictures of burst river banks and trying to decide which band is more irritating: Travis or Coldplay. Time well spent. We shall return.