To celebrate the Indian summer at the weekend, we took the lads on a camping expedition to Ashurst, Hampshire, on the edge of the New Forest.

The lads were quite taken with the pint-sized ponies which roamed the camp site hoovering up the leftovers in campers' bin bags. The sun shone all day long and to celebrate, I read a couple of chapters from Enid Blyton's Five Get Into Trouble, in which Uncle Quentin is up to his usual tricks. That night, we took a wander across the field to the imaginatively named New Forest pub, and as I returned my empty lemonade glass to the bar, I noticed a a few books on a shelf tucked away in a corner. At first sight, the old books appeared to have been bought by the yard to fill a space, but on closer examination there was at least one gem. Percy Dearmer's The Parson's Handbook (1913 edition) looked fascinating and a pencil mark inside revealed that it had been sold at some point for a pound. A quick check later on abebooks showed that a few second-hand copies were still doing the rounds for about £40. I suppose I regret not making the barman an offer, but it seemed a shame to take the handbook out of its present context, where it might provide drinkers with some useful sustenance and entertainment. Dearmer, of course, who the man who updated the words to Bunyan's He Who Would Valiant Be, a hymn I know off by heart, after countless renditions in primary school assembly. Other tempting reading matter for me at the moment includes comedian Frank Skinner's latest autobiographical musings, and Desmond

Bagley's The Vivero Letter, which I found for £1.50 in Arcadia last week. Yes I have read it before, but that doesn't matter. It's gripping stuff and old habits die hard.