"Finding time to write the words"

September 4th: Bridford Inn, Bridford, Deep Semen & No.69 Not sure this is how these Words were meant to be laid out, but here we go-Ed:  Whilst scraping off the wallpaper, phone ringing all the time,                                                                     Juggling calls and steam machine, I try and write some rhyme.                                                        Hashers phone with problems and want answers to their tex                                                                     Just as pen hits paper, bloody Vodafone ring next!                                                                              Women can do two things at once, but three is just a curse,                                                                       I’ll have to put my scraper down to get on with my verse.                                                                              So sitting on the Hoover, I thought of last night’s run,                                                                               with bare floorboards as company, it has to be more fun! My pet sit dog called Basil was bundled in the car                                                                                            a Labrador’s a bit of a squeeze, good job it wasn’t far.                                                                                   Melon Picker in the front, no time to dilly dally,                                                                                            the trail was laid from Bridford, in the picturesque Teign Valley.                                                                   A lovely warm dry evening, 30 hashers met at pub,                                                                                        Piltdown asked a question and we gave orders for our grub.                                                                             69 and Deep Seaman were the hares who laid the trail…                                                                                  in flour, and they promised that “to follow you cannot fail”! Well, off we set from car park, Longs immediately turned right,                                                                  they looped the loop and that was, the last we saw of them all night.                                                                   They were supposed to follow Shorts and cut up lane by church,                                                               we hunted high and hunted low for flour had to search.                                                                           Along the boardwalk, through the woods and up the hill to gate,                                                                it started getting dimpsy, so no chance for those guys late!                                                                           At the top sat grinning was Deep Seaman on his bike,                                                                                        a check on four way junction, but each road looked alike!                                                                              I tried the way I thought was right, but two blobs then a cross,                                                                     I returned to others waiting, who were totally at a loss.                                                                                         At last we found the way to go, along a country lane,                                                                                 some Longs caught up but Archangel - unfortunately did abstain.                                                             We found a public footpath sign, hidden in the hedge                                                                                 then followed it to farmyard where we skirted round the edge.                                                                Up a track and through a gate, a meadow of sheep revealed                                                                   then we startled frisky ponies who charged across their field. At last we reached the sweetie stop complete with stunning view,                                                                I stuck my hand into the bag and cheekily took a few.                                                                                      “We cannot stop and chat for long, it’s getting dark” I sighed,                                                                          we kept the view upon our left and followed close behind Wide. It wasn’t long before we caught the walkers going steady                                                                               struggling in the fading light with torches at the ready.                                                                               The last half mile was mostly road so shouldn’t take too long…                                                                                       to run back to the pub for those who didn’t get it wrong! We changed our clothes and pulled our pints, (well - the Landlordid)                                                     then ate our food and chatted, before down downs were awardid.  (yes I know I’ve spelt these two words wrong)                                                         Slip-on-Me awarded shirt with reason quite confounded,                                                                               but unable to convince us all the stinking shirt rebounded!                                                                            Piddler got 400 run badge, a sew-on duck embossed,                                                                               Archangel had his down down, of course for getting lost!                                                                               Poor 69’s life saving skills confused with shagging sheep                                                                            downed his drink in one swallow - a skill he must upkeep. I think we thanked the landlord, I know we thanked the hares…                                                              now we must thank the man above who answered all our prayers,                                                              for providing a dry evening to enjoy our native land.                                                                                         now I must get back to stripping walls with steamer now in hand.                                                                                                                                          On On                                                 Soapy