Write up a Blue Moon run - quite a challenge, nay a privilege, for one's first scribing assignment. Actually, I was not chosen from a cast of thousands, more that I was the last to arrive at start point - until, that is, the last-minute arrival of ToyBoy's mobile bedroom as the church clock struck seven.

Well, it must first be said what a glorious sight the moon had been on the previous evening and how fine the day of said run had dawned. We met in a fine mist, which soon became a fog enveloping the Lune Valley, putting paid to any prospect of a moon view that night. Major Twit's detour had us visiting their ex-piggery (pigs previously despatched) and hennery (they were asleep), so somewhat quiet and spooky but fascinating to see the twat/twit farming project and promising orchard.

I was so mesmerised by seeing Off His Trolley at Mears Beck that I contined straight ahead only to be informed by Feels that I was doing my second rambo loop of the evening. We somehow emerged onto Quarry Road, to be asked by a motorcyclist if he was all right for the Windfarm! One had to wonder what assignation he might have up there on a foggy night.

Back in the comfort of the White Noise/Off His Trolley abode we had a sumptuous buffet in front of log fire, where the circle was eventually held. I can't remember what Highway's misdemeanor was this time, but as always he took it on the chin. ToyBoy was securely accomodated for the night in our hosts' drive while remaing hashers groped homewards through the fog.

Roll on 2015 for the next Blue Moon!