I had a mild guts ache
this morning which woke me rather earlier than everyone else woke.
After my morning ablutions I sat in "Brown and Smelly"
and felt quite at one with the peace and tranquillity of the world.
Irene woke me two hours later.
My phone rang - "My
Boy TM" wanted directions to where we were
camping, so I walked up to the road to find him. He arrived with a
carful, and the four of them joined us for a spot of brekkie. Fudge
seemed particularly excitable, and some dog-training lessons were
started whilst some of us went off fishing. It would have been nice
to have had a fishing pond on site, but there was one at the farm
which was only five minutes drive away. We arrived at the farm to
find a visitor had come to the wrong camp site; so we imparted
directions and then had a pleasant couple of hours drowning maggots.
"My Boy TM" eventually managed to
catch two fish, which was two more than anyone else caught today.
With the novelty of
standing by a pond fast wearing off we made our way back to camp
where the O'Latas had arrived to visit. With our numbers swelled to
over twenty on site we had an enjoyable lunch of cream cakes, and
then got the kites out. The wind had subsided from yesterday's
hurricanes to a mere tornado, and we played with power kites and
delta kites and one lined kites and all sorts. The NASA power kite
wasn't right. I had a theory, so we brought the thing down and
measured the lines against each other. I was right: the lines had
stretched. But all had not stretched equally. There was a good eight
inches difference between longest and shortest lines. Ideally the
lines should be no more than a millimetre different. We lined up the
lines, re-strung the kite, had another go and again failed miserably.
Untangling the bridling worked wonders, and I even went so far as to
get my harness out to have a go with the power kite: it's been a
while since I had my harness out. It was fun. "Daddies Little
Angel TM" had a go with the kite and
nearly knacked herself. It's easy to forget that power kites are not
children's toys and they do bite.
Tea was excellent -
chicken and bacon pasta. I am always happy to wash up at camp when
someone else is cooking up such excellent food. And we spent a few
hours playing Jenga whist drinking a wonderful orange-coloured
passion fruit flavoured 25% abv jollop. Very nice. A drop of port
would have been nice at that point. We had at least two bottles in
the kitchen. After an hour we gave up looking they had vanished.
Which was probably for the best as we staggered to our beds at
midnight.
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