Living with BWS

Still experiencing Blair Withdrawal Syndrome, but it shall pass, much like my favourite phantom bottle shop in Hexham:

Spring is supposedly here, not much else to report.
In the interim, here's a little visit to the local bowling club, aka The Tin Hut.

It was dance night (we had no idea), hence the lack of Gladiators (a missed opportunity now that I think of it), but you can imagine them lording over this opulence, their tattoos battling with the carpet for attention:

This mystery chalk artiste could become the Jean-Michel Basquiat of The Bend, just quietly:

The bartender was friendly, if unimpressed by the presence of a camera (his hair was a mess):

But everyone else was having a grand time:

I do like the Hut.