Monday 25 January 2010

Doh!

I must have eaten something odd. Or had my hair turned blond for the day? I don't know, but the erratum last time referred to me suddenly thinking that Nick's comment after the Jingle Bells report was written by Adrian Wilkinson, who had just contacted me. I didn't think to check anything, so corrected what was actually right in the first place. Sorry, Nick, Adrian and anyone else (Spanker, in advance, perhaps, for next time I have cause to apologise?).
Anyway, on to the last hash. What a splendid one it was, too, around the dunes and woodland of Furadouro, thanks to Spanker and Tongue Fu, rain-free and lengthy. Measured by GPS at seventeen kilometres, it was a fair distance, and run at a reasonable clip, without even any hashing moaning - what is happening to PH3? It would have been different if Snorter had not been taken out with an overnight bug - he knows how to hash-grumble all right. I think, though, all agreed that it was a cracker, made all the better by the port and home-baked biscuits beside the marina two-thirds of the way through. The bash - ultra-cheap rodizio served by men in cowboy hats for some reason - was equally good, if unusually sober (perhaps reflecting the lack of Snorter again - just a thought!).
So, this weekend we have our first away weekend of the year. I'm excited already, waiting for the Friday afternoon bell to go and it's only Monday. We should be able to give Miguel Pais Clemente his virgin's induction this time, after he was forced to retire early last time out, heading back when he realised we were turning away from the cars again and he would be likely to be late for work (on a Sunday afternoon!). The arrangements appear impressive and I know that Mrs Slocombe and Boozy-Woozy are hoping for snow, if only for sadistic reasons. I will report in due course, complete with photos, hopefully.
On, on!
Plunger/Mark

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