Rubbish

My blogging ability has become a bit rubbish, I’m afraid: I put it down to “First day back at work after the bank holiday” syndrome, plus a touch of “Period end paperwork” disease, and the debilitating effects of “How-do-they-expect-us-to-work-with-such-a-rubbish-network” palsy.

Still, I’ve had an e-mail from the owners of the geocache I failed to find on Sunday: Looks like I tried to be a bit too clever in solving the clues, and it’s a way away from where I was looking. I’m meant to be back down that way in a couple of weeks, so hopefully I’ll have a chance to try again. My chum Mark the Buddhist has sent me a copy of the poem he wants me to read at his wedding in a few weeks time – it’s a bit complicated, with loads of commas and things, but it’s just so right for Mark and June. I’ll have to start practising.

Ooh, and a big “up” to my other mate Gary – we heard today that he’s in hospital having something done to his leg. Get well soon mate, my Ickle Godson wants his daddy back!

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