With the wind having
subsided to nothing overnight it might have been possible to have
got some kip; but for whoever it was shooting shotguns in the
distance from 4am onwards. So I again got up, pootled, and fell
asleep in "Brown and Smelly". I was woken by the
sound of a car arriving at 9.15am. "My Boy TM"
and the So-Fudge-Possee had come back for another day. I was
really pleased that they had. I've been trying to convince him to
come camping for years. Hopefully he's getting to see it my way now.
With most people emerging
from their pits we had a spot of brekkie. In a novel break with
tradition I did some of the cooking. And with washing up done, "My
Boy TM" produced a tin of sweetcorn. He
was feeling good about fishing - we could try again. So we did. We
had a handful of tiddlers each; nothing special. And then the Rear
Admiral caught a whopper. Four and a half pounds is probably not huge
when compared to those that "proper carp anglers"
go for, but for a duck pond that was only dug out ten years ago it
was quite impressive.
Back to camp where we
made sure that the pups were secured safely, and we spent a pleasant
afternoon playing "Hunting and Killing with Jimbo and Ned".
The girls supervised the air rifles; I tried (and failed) to
look knowledgeable with archery gear. Eventually the rain put paid to
our fun, so we retreated into "Brown and Smelly"
where we played Hangman.
As the afternoon wore on
so people had to leave us. There are so many people in my life that I
don't see anywhere near enough of. Parting was sad; a shame that
people had to go, but the next camping trip isn't that long away.
Tea - fajitas. A camp
favourite. Usually on one of the first nights. For a change we had it
on the last night. Very nice. And as the washing up was finished and
the So-Fudge-Possee sailed off into the distance we got out
the Blokus. And we found the missing bottles of port. It got messy. I
went to bed shortly after midnight but was reliably informed that the
party was still going at 2am...
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