The festivals of fizzical jerks

In other news, 3 of the PuddleDaddies have again made the paper, in exactly the same event as last year - the Portsea Island Beer Festival. This time, there's only 3 of them still standing and the beer glasses are taller, but they obviously haven't learned since last time. It's embarrassing seeing your parents in the paper (at least it wasn't the court roundup).

This morning I started the day in PE kit as we walked to Ruby's school for an athletics festival, apparently. As a recent initiate to the inner sanctum of the Level 6 Badge holders, I  excelled.....I came second in the 'Throwing a ball at a traffic cone' event, which is why I am able to throw wool over someone's eyes at 12 yards, more on that later. I was officially naughty at school again (losing Golden Time) and have definitely developed an argumentative streak domestically as well as academically. Jof made me sit on my own for 10 minutes with no chocolate, Lego or television.
But then Bud wanted to do some deliveries. We delivered Great-Grandad's old wartime tools to a second-hand shop (£6) and the nice man in the music shop took pity on the Victorian violins when we threatened to burn them (£20) so, on top of Dear Follower Fiona buying the Napoleon clocks (£10) I've suddenly got £36 in my Blind Uncle Len memorial fund.
But the last shop was closed before we got there: to placate me, Jof took me into John Lewis and bought me 'Lego City Goldmine' with digger, ore truck, 2 miners (not minors, although it does say 7-12 years on the box) and some dynamite. I am still blissfully unaware that he bought me 3 bionicles in a charity shop, because the wool didn't fall over his eyes about my naughtiness.