I do not think I am drunk, although the numbers would suggest I am wrong. I was sitting in strong sun, and shivering in the cloud cover, and sun always dries things.

The most strenuous thing I did yesterday was put a pie in the oven, and walk 3 paces to the mint in my garden. I also managed 24 hours sleep over 48, but I did need them.

Today I went to watch my first Bradford League cricket game for probably a quarter of a century; and see Mike and Emma to find out what I am to do at their wedding.

I set off to see Bradford & Bingley. I thought I might get an Eldwick bus which goes past the end of the road the ground is on. A Baildon bus came first, but it said Shipley on the front (which is a mile and a steep hill short of Baildon). I asked the driver but he offered no info beyone it was going to Shipley.

Change of drivers at the station. A Shiply the bus went past it’s usual turn for the bus station. I went downstairs. Everyone was moaning, the twat at the back (with his young daughter) most of all.

I asked what was going on. The driver was not the best spealer, and the screen did not help; but between me, him, and the old ladies at the front who live in Baildon; could give the announcement that the road to Baildon was closed and the bus would be going straight back to Bradford. It to the old ladies 3 goes to get the fact into the twat’s head’ and he was still talking moaning bollocks after they did.

Walked through Saltaire, called into Fannys, but nobody was behind the bar and there was no beer I especially wanted, so carried on.

Walked past Shipley Print, who did my books, over the railway, and into Hirst Wood. I then walked from there towards Bingley along the river, a first.

It’s a good walk. The best song thrushes I can remember hearing, and a big beech tree on a bank, blown over recently enough, which had demolished a stone wall and was resting on branches. While I could see almost a full root plate it still had roots in the ground, and it was resting on big branches, and it was in full leaf. I want to go back and photograph it.

The match was against Woodlands. Before the good bits I have to say handpulled Tetley bitter was £2.80 a pint, and keg mild was £2.60!. It was very good cricket in a nice ground, and the barmaid was sparky, but even with all that I doubt I will be going back at the price.

I mostly talked to lads from Woodlands, and have some sympathy for them getting hammered. B&B lost 3 wickets on 52 runs, but a fantastic knock of 68 by Chris Thompson, and at least 3 dropped catches gave them 196 for 4. Woodlands were on 44 for 4 after 20 overs when I left, and lost by 60.

There were swifts, swallows and house martin in view, the later flying between the fielders, and I watched one going into its nest on the pavillion on the way out.

During the interval a police car arrive and parked by the river and a WPC got out. I said to the woman near me that I doubted she was going to fish or throw herself in the river. After a short while a youth appeared at the river boundary, at the same time as 4 more coppers started running across the field (They did not run over the wicket).

I bloke messing about with his kids near the boundary joined in the chase, the lad jumped the ground fence and a few tried to follow him, though I guessed correctly that they had a car ready on that street.

I asked 3 of the coppers if they had caught him, and one said they had caught them all.

Wildlife, beer, cricket and chasing villains! A perfect example of an English summer day.

It was really nice to see Mike and Emily afterwards, and to get their cat dribbling. I got their cat purring, and was told I could not wear my DJ, let alone my tails. Folk will be expected to scrub up, but not enough for a man with an untried dinner jacket.

I finished in the Castle talking to Hilary, the only person ever to force a few book out of me.