I had a late night on Sunday, gripped by a Mumsnet saga about a Dad who forgot to wake up his wife before their 7 year old opened his birthday presents.
Mumsnet Advice – “Leave the Bastard” , “Never forgive him”, “Chop his willy off“. So ANGRY.
So I was a bit tired this morning, the morning pubs were re-born a 3rd time, and it took me till 10:30 to wander down to the Hillsborough Spoons.
Despite having a vast garden, it’s been closed for refurbishment and certainly looked the business on re-opening. The Cambridge United fans using it before their next trip to Wednesday won’t recognise it.
Would it be full ? Would it be empty ?
No, it was just right, with a pleasing mix of burping babies and Old Boys reacquainting themselves with the world.
“Have you missed us ?” ask the staff.
“Yeah !” say the punters.
I get to choose my own table for the first time in many months, and get the joy of being able to see the handpumps AND the Old Boys.
I order the Doom Bar, and the Eggs Bene, and a coffee, because you have to really.
The Doom isn’t great, almost as if they put the barrel on last Friday when I saw them training the staff how to use hand pumps and left it on.
BUT the ham could have come from the Hillsborough butchers that morning, the eggs are perfectly poached,
and I’m now trusted to use the coffee machine ALL BY MYSELF.
There’s a lovely buzz of conversation, staff laughter and that baby gurgle I keep mentioning. It’s a joy being back, and I order a half of the Bradfield Brown which is far better. There’s a fair amount of cask being pulled. Hurrah !
Four Spoons staff ask me if everything is OK, and I tell them it’s great and ask if I can have a clean mug.
“Not a problem, sweet pea !” says the lady. Sweet pea, there’s a new one.