Within minutes of
climbing into my pit last night the rain started. It was heavy;
bordering on to torrential, and it went on all night long. The Rear
Admiral texted me at 6.10am to ask if I wanted to go fishing. I soon
heard that my reply made him giggle, I stayed in bed listening to the
rain and sulking about the rain until 8am when I got up, abluted in
the rain, and sulked about the rain in the mess tent.
We had a leisurely
breakfast in the rain, and washed up in the rain. And with no sign of
the rain abating I formally declared Emergency Plan B (beer)
to be in effect, and helped myself to the generous servings of the
home brew. Which wasn't really the best thing to do becase just as I
started the fourth pint so the weather cheered up and visitors
arrived. It wasn't fair that Sarah wasn't well, but Steve came out,
as did the O'Latas. Whilst the (supposedly) grown ups sat and
chatted and dyed their hair, the littluns played "Beer Can
Pinyata" and made their own home-made poo-sticks (from
poo and sticks).
Tea was good - sweet &
sour and all sorts of goodies with it. It was a shame that I dozed
through much of the afternoon and evening, but I recovered enough to
do a rather amazing rendition of "Foo-Foo the Bunny Rabbit"
at the camp fire before we adjourned for port and cheese; finally
crawling into our pits at 1am.
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