Time to build an igloo

"Come on," says Malcolm. "You can't bottle it. I mean, it might be a bit cold but that shouldn't bother an old pike fisherman.

"Look, I tell you what. Me and Sid will build it - well, I'll design it (being an architect, obviously...) and Sid will do the actual, um, building as it were. All you've got to do is take some pictures and job's a good 'un."

I waver, while the New Barman at the Village Pub reads my mind and pours me a double shot of Jack on the rocks. I like the New Barman's style.

"Are you, like, um, sure there'll be enough snow," asks Hawkwind Sid. "I mean to build, like, an igloo..?"

It says more snow on the forecast, I shrug. But I'm sure they build igloos from ice, as in, like, where the eskimos live.

"I reckon you might be on for that tonight," says the New Barman, in the first of what I am sure will be many useful contributions to the wide-ranging debates which happen in the Village Pub.

"They reckon that's going to get down to minus eight or nine. And my name's Neil, by the way."

Normal for Norfolk

Rain drums on the windows of the Village Pub, like rain drumming on the windows of a village pub. Fancy a game of dommies, says Malcolm, who is reckoned to be one of the best domino players in the village.

I decline, suggesting the weather's all wrong for dominos. I like playing dominos in the beer garden of the Village Pub, but it is raining too hard for dominos al fresco. Malcolm asks if there's anything else the matter.

Nothing a day's fishing wouldn't cure, I reply, looking at the rain descending on the village through the second window to the left of the door of the Lounge Bar of the Village Pub.

You and your fishing, says Malcolm. Fancy another pint..? I'll have another pint of Shuck, I reply. Just for a change. Malcolm heads off to rouse the Half Awake Barman. I look outside and it is still raining. I go for a wee, to break up the evening.

I return to find two pints of Shuck on the table. Malcolm is staring intently into one as he fiddles with a beermat. I stare briefly into the other, before I raise it to my lips, noting how the hoppy after-taste soon competes with the brew's initial bitterness, delivering the balancing act of flavours associated with this particular brand of ale.

I look outside, through the second window to the left of the door of the Lounge Bar of the Village Pub, noting that it is still raining. Gonna' rain all night, says Malcolm, as he raises his glass. An' they reckon that's gonna' rain all day ter-morrow.