61 today, 61 today. Tuesday, 12th August, 2014.

First stop, The Cotswolds Food Centre for a proper Birthday meal of sausages, mash, onions and gravy. Not a lot of greens - he'll be placed on a salad regime for the rest of the week, you'll see.

It's always best to ensure yer tummy's full before browsing the Food Centre or else you'd buy all sorts.

Second stop, Bourton-on-the-Water which, appallingly, is a bit rammed with tourists from all over the world and, ahem, Worcester.

Taking a photo without other people in it is gonna be a challenge. We can feel grumpiness coming on.

We don't like other people in our photos…………

……….but we don't mind the odd random Marabou Stork.

Watching the freshwater trout lying in wait for food (they are there, really they are).

Don't tell me. You've forgotten the bread again.

Yep.

How many more times are you gonna do this?

Dunno, quite a few probably. Sorry.

Finally. 

When is a 'Supermoon' no longer 'super'.

24 hours ago the moon was a 'Supermoon' for just one day. Larger, brighter and lower than ever.

Now, the following day, it is no longer 'super'.

This is the view of it from our living room at 10pm. Still big, still low and still bright. 

Looks pretty super to us.

CRMC, Classic Motorcycle Festival, Donington Park, Saturday, 9th August, 2014.

What manner of lunatic thinks: 'I know, I'm gonna put a Hillman Imp engine in a motorcycle frame then says, no, one's for wussies, I'm gonna use two?

All we know is he's not gonna get his knee down at a roundabout on that. Not on purpose, anyway.

Aha. An opportunity to gen-up on our Double-Dutch? 

It's Finnish, actually but who are we to spoil the 'joke'.

Nice classic transporter for a classic 'bike racing team.

Ex-Dave Potter Team Ted Broad TZ Yamaha 750-4 2-stroke ballistic missile.

David is instantly transported back to 1975. 

(He's going misty eyed and all wobbly at the knees. He can barely take this photo. Gerra grip man).

Warning to that Ray Smarshal-fella from considerate CRMC member.

Taking a photo one-handed with a gadget? That won't come out.

Vicky about to zoom in on a Rev Counter close up.

OK. I'll wrestle the bugger to the ground, you stab it with the hypodermic needle.

Overhead, a suicidal seagull takes on a Lancaster and lives to fly another day.

We're in the Exhibition Centre now where it's wall-to-wall Classic and Vintage 'bikes of all types and hues.

But not a single Honda CB500-4. It's an outrage!

Blimey! It's almost 4pm and we haven't seen a 'bike 'on track' yet. Time to put that right.

This is the Classic 500 Grand Prix, Clubmans, and Goldstars race.

Note how when one of the riders goes wide, they all do.

Showing them all how to do it properly.

Ray Swinner (aka Gary Thwaites) on his 500cc Shelton Matchless.

David is dispatched into the depths of Craner Curves to try to get an 'action' shot of this years' Special Guest Rider Kevin Schwantz.

He's a long way off, but it'll have to do.

Graeme Crosby on a Steve Wheatman Suzuki XR69.

It's almost 5pm and time to drive home but not before one final chance to take a shot of folk stood 'round watching other folk trying to start up a Classic racing 'bike.

Classic.

Emlyn's 4th Anniversary, Friday, 8th August, 2014.

It's four years to the day, evidently, since I was dragged away from my nice comfy wooden bench at Evesham Cats Protection, and made to live with my new slaves here.

Can't see what all the fuss is about, myself. It's all the same to me.

I start each day with two breakfasts and then have a kip on the settee in the kitchen.

Then, after a lunch and several treaty-fishy-biscuits, I have a kip in the afternoon on the bed.

Finally, after my two evening meals (and a damn -good 'proverbial') I settle down in the evening on the settee in the living room for a 10 hour overnight kip.

But, never fear, well before 6 o'clock I shall be back in the bedroom, with my lead boots on, to get the buggers up nice an' early for the first of my two breakfasts and the start of another day.

It's what they appreciate.

Of arachnids and nectar, Worcester, Wednesday, 6th August, 2014.

What makes you think we were reluctant to open the Lancer's boot today?

All we can say is that by the time we got to Droitwich to do some shopping the spider was gone. Must have jumped off and started a new life somewhere along the A38. Well, one can hope.

Vicky's Team at work bought her some lilies last week to mark the end of an era as its members transfer to a new organisation.

The said lilies are past their best now. We were about to throw them out until we noticed droplets of nectar forming, which has earned the lilies as stay of execution. 

Hence this somewhat rushed image (well, we were in a hurry, Corrie was about to start).

Aberdare Park, Sunday, 26th July, 2014.

For more years than we can recall with any accuracy folk (mainly Welsh folk, it has to be said) have told us that we must visit Aberdare Park. There must have been valid reasons why we haven't made it until now, but we can't recall them. It's a mystery. Any road up, we're here now, albeit a day later than planned thanks to the ridiculously high temperatures and even higher humidity that we have been experiencing so far this summer. Today it shouldn't get any hotter than 23 degrees and there's an ever-so-slight breeze: hope we can cope!

OK, that's enough preamble, let's get on with it.

We're in the middle of a Victorian Park in the middle of a small Welsh town
just to the west of Merthyr Tydfil.
It's just gone eleven-thirty and nowt's happening as it's the 'Church Break'. 

Everything is spookily quiet. 

There's a nice lake in the Park and something tells us that we should have brought some bread.

Yep. We definitely should have brought some bread.

Having had a cuppa tea, we've strolled 'round The Paddock and are now waiting for the action to commence. The trick today is to find a shady spot like this from which to view things. These marshals and photographers have got it just right it seems (as long as the sun doesn't move that is).

Things get going at about 12:15 with a Parade of road 'bikes. This is the only part of the track where spectators can watch from the outside (between The Esses and Buckley's Bend) and is the only spot where one can get a shot of a 'bike moving from left to right. But there's no shade here.

Competitors in the Welsh Classic/Bob Price Memorial race flash past the bandstand 

and into Buckley's Bend.

Vicky's left hand and forearm watch the Formula 400 race at the exit of Buckley's Bend.

Splendid meadow flowers at Garden's Bend. 

This could be Bill Swallow - it certainly looks like him - but as there is no number 86 listed in the programme it might not be. Curses on riders who get their entries in late!

Another rider not listed in the programme - he's on a 50cc of some sort - exiting Garden's Bend.

The lead battle for the Super Moto race enters the start-finish 'straight'.

Golden Era race gets under way.

Either Howard's taken this photo or it's a selfie. You decide.

Richard Piers-Jones, on his Yamaha 347 TZ at The Rosaries, won the Jack Evans Memorial Race for 125cc/400cc 'bikes.

Why can't we sit on that bench Vic?

No time to smell the roses for Dan Cooper who won the main race of the day, The Welsh Open. 

It's gone 4 o'clock now and we've gone right 'round the just-under-one-mile circuit and we're back at The Esses again in time for the second race of the day for The Classic Karts. This is Marc Beeley and his 1979 Phoenix YZ 250 G.

Last race of the day is for the Classic Bikes. 

Two of 'em are thundering into Garden's Bend. There's a of 'thundering' at these sort of things.

Just gone 4:30 and we join the queue to cross back over the track at the end of the racing.

All-in-all, well worth the just-over-two-hour drive (each way). Good job there was plenty of shade tho'.

Chillin', Sunday, 20th July, 2014.

Lazy Sunday afternoon

Got no mind to worry

Close my eyes and drift away

(Marriott/Lane).

Burford, Saturday, 20th July, 2014.

Got any bread, mate?

Nope.

Well, keep out of our village then!

Mrs Mallard is not impressed. She's got four ducklings to feed.

Capitalist consumerism hits the Cotswolds.

Paula and Vicky are appalled.

Paula's hot-off-the-internet new shoes light up Burford.

Something wicked this way comes.

Time to take shelter.

Of course, there are always some folk (i.e. David and Tony) who are daft enough to stay outside in order to capture an image of any lightning. 

Needless to say, they didn't (but they did get wet).

Putting a brave face on the lemon drizzle cake in Huffkins.

Vicky's verdict: distinctly average - not enough drizzle.

Vicky, Tony and Paula outside the most photographed pub in Burford.

Now then children, remember, always look right, left, then right again before crossing the road. 

After a lovely time of too much food, tea, and lemon drizzle cake, but not enough lightning, it's time to wander back to the car park and the drive back home.