Result!

So I think that is clearly settled then, wine DOES count towards your daily five portions. The Tame Pharmacist makes it a slam dunk, or whatever the equivalent is in a Sleepy Mansions acceptable sport. Maybe whatever the sport that has the slam dunk is acceptable, my supreme sports filter has me bamboozling myself now. I know it's not cricket and cricket doesn't count at chez Sleepy anyway. Help me Sleepy-wan Kenobi, what the hell do I mean?

Anyhoo, crikey, that was like trying to get yer jammie trousers on whilst drunk. Yesterday was Kevin's birthday and we sank a few portions of wine. Actually, I think we sank nine bottles between nine of us, including what was in the cooking, and bearing in mind that a couple of people were drinking beer, so we're all good. Didn't sleep too well, but worth it to make sure we get enough fruit and veggies.

Oh and there were two dogs. Real, woofing ones. Dogs sometimes put their moist noses in intimate places while you're eating, so in so many ways it really helps to have imbibed somewhat. The surreal aspect of the whole thing becomes totally comprehensible.

My task was the pudding, which I slaved over. Or, at least, I lined up in Dairy Queen, spelt the name 'Kevin' for someone whose first language wasn't necessarily English or any version thereof, and paid for the ice-cream cake. It was tough, but saved the guests from having to eat anything I'd cooked, although I can manage a good fruit salad, but with all the wine drinking, I feared people might overdose on fruit and veg.

So, Happy Birthday for yesterday m'dear!
Now we have the aftermath.