Old enough to know better, too young to care

Show and tell day. I took the programme and leftover ride tokens from Buds' school old boys' day, with enough leftover tokens to share around the class! I reported home that my teacher had a tear in her eye when I was telling my story, not sure if that's my heart-rending oratory or the fact I neglected to include all the interesting bits.After school I asked for a Monday park to replace the missing Wednesday park. Looks like I'm more in touch with my own calendar than the Puddleparents who have since rebooked my trip to Erinshouse.

So I hopped on the bike and we went to Yellow Plum Park which was empty, so we investigated and ate the first crop of yellow and red plums and a few bonus blackberries. Then a punishing trip up Higgins Hill and over Bens' bumpy paths to the sea. No cars were in Bens' drive. What we did meet was billions of flying ants. It's unhelpful getting a faceful of ant when you're trying to breathe.

The tide was out to lunch and so was I. Like a badly timed Reginald Perrin I strode out across the tidal flats which were a lot less romantic than they could have been: the area was strewn with half bricks, roof tiles, bottles, seagulls, dead seaweed and powerfully aromatic mud that threatened to suck me under. I returned liberally daubed in greeny-brown bacterial gunge straight from the very banks of the Limpopo river.

 The wet gunge dried quickly in the lovely afternoon and I sped along Locksway Road attracting admiring glances and leaving behind a lingering aroma of irradiated cabbage. At one point approximately 60 French schoolchildren came the other way on the pavement but didn't move out of my way, forcing me into the road. When we got home (having met Elizabeth on the way) the cloying clay-glue had dried solid and I went straight into the shower while Jof put my clothes (shoes included) wholesale into the poor washing machine.

Amazing what a decent bit of exercise does for your appetite, though.....