Cardboard and Cabbage

Poor old Jof is continuing with her Special Diet ("You can eat anything you like, as long as it's cardboard").
In French I got a Merit Certificate "For 10 points in French (outstanding understanding and use of French)" from Miss Z. Raveica, with my name spelt incorrectly on the certificate.
This is traditional from foreigners, and in fact a family trait: once upon a decade, Jof got a certificate from a Belgian entertainer working in Tangier in the name of "Jerry".
Scooted home with Pops. She was on her bike but I could still keep up, she is the win to my wang.
Thursday park was somewhat curtailed (Happy Birthday, Ben) so we scooted round the usual lake in the skatepark in the rain but the olds gave up early. We both got wet socks, shoes, botties...
Sausages for supper #1 was followed by a rush to get to the Scout awards ceremony. Held at Springfield school near the supermarket, 85 Scouts of all ages were on the list for a certificate of varying rank. The room was suffused with the heady aroma of a Year 10 gymnasium and a million soaked raincoats.
It's the 10th time they've done an award ceremony, and the guest presenter was Council Leader Gerald Vernon-Jackson who is bang into the scouting movement and says his grandparents met that way. He has invited us to the Guildhall next time.
The Scouts were put on benches in a big horseshoe, with parents and leaders on chairs behind. Because my group has the lowest number, we were done first and I was #3 of 85 to be given my certificate (I got the Chief Scout's Bronze Award), 2 years to the day after joining. So pretty soon I was free to circulate, and I gyrated my way around the floor meeting and greeting, pressing the flesh, and practising slide tackles.
2 Scouts were trying to raise £3200 each to attend the Scout Jamboree in Japan. BoyoBoyoBoy I'm looking forward to being a Cub and Real Scout - what with its abseiling, parachuting, Amazon exploring and stuff. When you're an Explorer Scout you probably have to fix the International Space Station, overthrow a small country or become Prime Minister.
There were friends from YMCA, my old school, and one from the JBs school. The newspaper photographer girlie (same one that took pictures of the PuddleDaddies at the Beer Festivals) snapped everyone in sight. By the time the circus had got 1/2 way round, most of my group had sloped off and by the time I went up to the free food for the 3rd time, I was the only representative left in the room.
The food made up for my lack of sausages (too spicy), yet another day in one of my busiest weeks ever.