The 1926 general strike revisited

My teachers have decided to have an extra-extra holiday for pension-related reasons I won't understand for years. It's not just me - Follower Fiona is due to fly out to Samos today but will the Air Traffic Controllers strike save her from the Greek rioters? Who knows. I greeted this news by bursting into tears at 0100 and waking the household up. Therefore I will spend the day with Erin whose Mum has kindly adopted me for the day, even though Bud broke her bike yesterday.
I hope the football coaches aren't on strike as well.
Had a splendid day with Erin. We went to the model village, the beach, the butterfly museum where I got a snake called fangs (like Cleopatras' asp - fangs for the mammary), canoe lake swingpark, the lot. Then we played helicopter-jumping off the furniture and tents in the garden. Then Bud came to pick me up and brought round the plastic train track to add to Erins' one, I shall return O yea indeed to construct it with her.
Football was good as usual, we played ghosts and all the normal complicated team games but then poor Ben stood on a ball and went over backwards. He banged his head lots and didn't look too happy about it - they reckoned junior concussion so he went to the clinic for a check-up.

As Ben has blown me out for the trip to the Sealife centre, I may take Erin instead to pay her back for being so nice to me.

In the evening we finished off the marble cake. It was too big to go in the box so Jof had cut off 4 slices which were consumed by Erin, Erinsmum and the football Puddlemummies. Now it's an incandescent, ebullient monolith of joy, coruscating with bold swathes of icing and scintillating hundreds and thousands. The cake stall operatives won't know what's hit them. Unless they, too, ate the wrong mushrooms.....