Wooden spoon

Last night was one of the few nights when the penny dropped part way through. No work tomorrow. Wahoo. For once I don’t have to get up earlier than all the others. I’m now paying the price. I slept through my alarm only to be greeted by some scaffolders and a man with a hammer at 7:30am.

Two words. Black. Noise.

Last night was worth a mention because it was an impromptu date. The best sort. The date got even funnier when we heard the tap of a microphone. Before we knew it we were signed up for a pub quiz along with 18 other teams. Jesus. I should have known better. What do I know about famous dogs? Thankfully little enough to maintain my street cred. In fact, it was a roaring success. We cheated our way through the questions to win a prize. That’s got to be a result on a date. Unless of course it’s the wooden spoon.

Having got back into bed with my clothes on (they’ve bashed out my downstairs windows to get the poles through and I have no heating) I’m only good for a handful (or less) of things today.

I have successfully set up an email on the boat. That means you get snippets of life on board. It also means that I need to teach my mum how to blog. Given her hi-tech uni degree you’ll probably find that she rubs some funk on it. Watch this space!

I have also written to the Brazillian Tourist Board. Rio baby!! With yesterday’s work ‘stuff’ out of the way, my focus changes to moving house and getting ready. ONE WEEK TO GO!!

My mum told me that ‘I want never gets’ but I really, really want a selfie like this! A rare occasion when a selfie is justifiable. The odds are piled against me but worth a try.

Some selfies you can make exception for

Best dash. Typing with one eye closed is making things worse.


Wooden spoon

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