Summer time

Summer is the time when middle-aged parents scrabble around trying to patch together work and school holidays. We've been to Wales and the Lakes. I could make some not-very-interesting comments about rain; but apart from saving us the trouble of camping one night it hasn't been a bother. Rowing-wise, summer is the interval between the Bumps and Ely (or even Boston), usually filled with nothing but this year the club seems to be unusually active, which is good, though being back to the K8 is a step down after the menacing Black Prince. Mind you the varnish is excellent - I keep wanting to polish it.

Since this post has little purpose other than to prove that I'm still alive, I offer for your amusement [[Wikipedia:No climbing the Reichstag dressed as Spider-Man]], which will lead you on (if you dare) to [[WP:LAME]]. I'm particularly proud of my contribution to this page [1].

[Oh, and P suggests "But the fearsome creature had flung itself into the metal grille of
the BMW Z4 and become a stoataway." -W]

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Surely the writer should have written the rather obvious:

"But the fearsome creature had flung itself into the metal grille of the BMW Z4 and become a stoataway."

You just can't get decent "tabloid" journalists now it seems.