ScrapJunkHeapYard Challenge Anneka

Wow, what a massive sleep that was. During the night, my nocturnal bellyache transmuted into 17 1/2 litres of pungent marsh gas and farted its whiffy way to freedom to puncture a hole in an Ozone layer near you. I therefore awoke refreshed and pugnacious.
My first job was Junk Heap Challenge. Dear Follower Martin challenged me to clear his back yard of assorted rubbish and take it to the tip, winner gets a bottle of wine. It would have been a hush-hush tour of the Leonid Brezhnev Memorial Naval Command Nuclear Bunker atop Portsdown Hill but his Dad doesn't work there any more so he no longer has the security pass, crying shame there.
We filled the car with bamboo and bits of dead cupboard and buckets and planks and delivered it to Havant Municipal Recycling scrapyard where they have made a big effort to make the car park safer for little people so I was able to help unload the car as well. We also picked up a lot of slugs and centipedes and woodlice but the snail we donated to a French Chef. OK, we drowned it in a puddle but who's counting.
I threw planks into the wood skip and got "Ooo, aren't you strong?"-type compliments from passing Mummies, hurrah.
We battled the football-related traffic jams back home and I shovelled in some lunch and we all raced off to the Portsmouth District Cub Scout Heap'O'Junk Scrap Challenge. The building that The Nameless One of our number was convinced was the Scout Hut turned out to be very locked, but we checked out the Territorial Army centre (closed) and asked a man in a pub who told us we'd been about 50 yards from the real Scout Hut so we sheepishly (and a little bit goatishly) drove back the same way and got in hardly late at all.
My group was one of half a dozen competing Cub Packs and absolutely none of us had done one before. We had a story read to us about blue aliens attacking their former planetoidy domicile in a galaxy farfar away and there were castles and towers and recriminations and kings and forgiveness.
In the room were several presentation frames of Scouting Badges from years past, displays of knots, pictures of the Queen and so forth. One of these guys certainly liked his tassels and colourful metallic flashy badges, the other must have been a total porker to be big enough to fit all those badges on one scout jumper, I think we all know someone like that.
Some of the groovy badges from the seventies were sponsored by companies related to the discipline, eg the science one had BNFL (British Nuclear Fuels) stitched into it, did these people get to tour a nuclear power plant to get their badge??
We were then given all manner of boxes, bottles, paper and cardboard and a spectrum of powder paint and we got to work. All six groups independently decided to make a castle, as you do.
In the end, we came second, a complete travesty of course. Just because the 49th had a drawbridge on their castle, harrumph.
In familial Solidarność for my failure to progress to the next round, Bud bought me 2 Match Attax! cards, nothing to do with getting me out of Jof's way so she could rest her feet, honest. Later we played Monopoly. Hooray for reality, more than I get at home.
After bath fizzer night I rejoined Jof to watch Match of the Day on our comfortable sofa with the special knitted blankets and the Wayne Rooney goal that almost equalled that of Mr D. Beckham. What more do you need.