Well, didn't go and play Airsoft in the end. I will next time though.
Mr WithaY assures me it was great fun, and tremendous glory was had by all. All those on the "Aggressive Yellow" team, mind, not the wimpy Red Team, who apparently were a bunch of big girls and failed to achieve their objectives in anything like as cool a way as the Yellows.
He came home covered in mud, completely exhausted, saying "Oh my God. I am OLD". Serves him right for going out to play with a bunch of twenty-somethings.
Apparently they sell all kinds of pyrotechnics there. Mr WithaY had to buy some. See my earlier remarks on his Compulsory Firework Purchasing Disorder. Still looking for a self help group on that, by the way.
He was full of tales of derring-do, all of which which seemed to involve lobbing grenades at the enemy, which then bounced off tree branches and landed among his own team, exploding and causing mayhem. Heh.
Reminds me of our days fighting in the musket block, blowing stuff up. Ah, the romance.
Other news. Getting a bit tired of moussaka now. Still loads left. It was lovely, mind.
I looked at the recipe and thought "Hmm, that's not much for four hungry (alright, greedy) people," and I doubled up the quantities. I think I realised it was a mistake when the damn thing wouldn't all fit in my huge casserole dish and I ended up making two lots.
Still, meant I could sit on the sofa last night eating tasty leftovers and watching Shrek 2 on DVD. Marvellous. I love being a grown-up.