My 12 days of Christmas

I was drowning my sorrows in the Red Lion, the village pub today. Actually I started before the game. I do like to plan ahead!

The day after Christmas for us was spent in the Oxfordshire village my countryfied-other-half was born in, Brightwell-cum-Sotwell, and her sister still lives in (pop: 1,530). A big walk this morning with various dogs and kids and then to the pub, which is under new management.

A pint each of Village Idiot, Loddon Hoppit and the darker Good Old Boy, which served as lunch because I couldn’t possibly eat any more turkey, beef and ham before we returned home to follow the afternoon’s football. Sadly my other-half’s family, the men anyway, get excited about Liverpool and Chelsea although the more local Reading do get a cursory mention.

Back to the pub and the Red Lion is a proper country boozer, and I miss them greatly. It was voted South Oxfordshire’s Pub of the Year in 2012 and is a regular in the CAMRA Good Beer Guide. The previous landlady had done a great job and the new owner, who is a family friend, needs to be on his game to keep up it’s excellent reputation. Hopefully we’ll be back in the summer to find out.