Summer's onna way.
My bud Wez, in Barry town, (Go, go! Gavin and Stacey) has a big back garden shed and teh f00l has only gone and transformed it into his own personal pub. Wee! Wee! Wee! We had had a grand ol' night on Sunday. A mate I haven't seen in some time joined us, along with Wez' missus Cath, their youngest and a neighbour. No palaver, no idiots huddled in the corner looking for grief - just good convo, a "few" pints (the light stuff for me, these days) a few games of darts and a few tokes.
Cath even cooked us up an English breakfast in the morning. (A Welsh breakfast is the same, but with the addition of laverbread/seaweed).