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Mr Sea Weed didn't let us down. Much. Way down south when we finally got going, down where the sand was soft and all the trails led gently upwards, and up, and up bit more. While I'd been at wembley the temperature switch had been turned up, and it was thirsty work indeed., well done though Mr Hare.
Seeing Katie race home reminded of the days there was competition amongst the young schoolmasters who'd pace themselves, lurk and then dart for the finish line (do you read these lines tinkerbell? Morangieboom, what happened to you? and Mr C, we know what happened to you).
Mr Maggie F Gump got his name (Gump). On On.
Coach was delighted to get a chance to bucket all those he'd missed last week feeling duty bound to wreck punishment all over Erik, so yt of course got it in the neck, but i hope the next spy/s watched who snuck out of the bucket ring.
Hot long but always great pleasure.
Next week off a little later at 4.30 - maybe enough time for Ras Laffan to join us?