Migs, Tigs and Arcs

Near us is a welding shop. I haven't bought any welds yet, but I'm keeping my options open. Do you Mig or do you Tig? asked Grandad. I'm an arse man meself, I said, although I may have mispronounced it.
Today at Daycamp I finished off my artwork projects and even got some signed material from the in-house rent-an-artist who has his own website.
The bus (not the gargantuan inter-galactic vessel but a much reduced cost-saving charabanc) dropped me off a mere 25 minutes late (due to watching a play called Hairspray), lucky we had anticipated this chronological error and gone for a different bus stop, so I got to swimming lessons with time to spare. Spent allocated time dealing with Gastric Explosions, but who's counting.
Jof met us and we hit seafront Cricket again: I did some serious net practice before the structured tip'n'run competition and then I had a hot dog and mini-match with the JBs until hypoglycaemia and week-long tiredness caught up with me and there was a Sulkus Maximus and home for sandwiches and bed.
Actually not bad overall, have to learn to fit in with everybody else's requirements: difficult for us 7 year-olds.