I OFTEN wonder if Rog is just lucky - or psychic. As I popped into the pub, he was comfortably ensconced at the bar with Ivor the landlord and Micky, together with a new entrant, Dave the Sand, recently returned from a long stint in the Middle East. It was noticeable Roger had just drained the last of his Carlsberg as I walked in, encouraging me to immediately buy a round, which of course I was delighted to do.

Rog has been busy supervising a painter at his house and being as helpful as possible, in his words. I was able to inform the group, as I bought the round, that I had chatted to the painter and he confirmed that he had asked Rog to load the roller for him, to save him going up and down the ladder. Rog tried, bless him, but was spectacularly unsuccessful, to the extent that the painter asked Rog's wife to do it, as she was far better at it. Roger made the tea.

Nevertheless, Rog was able to get the house done, in double quick time once he stopped helping and it looks great.

Meanwhile, Dave, on his return, is settling back into village life well, coming from an alcohol-free country to rediscover the delights of the local pub.

Ivor, sensing an opportunity, waxed lyrically about pubs and even tried to get Micky to put down a deposit for his wake to be held at the pub, but Micky declined as he's not planning on popping his clogs anytime soon.

You can't blame Ivor for trying, though, and we think it will be a good do, so we are trying to prevail on Micky to pay for his wake to be held when he’s still here. That way, at least he’ll get value for money.