Mind over Mater

Jof is happy now that Nanna will soon be allowed home with some of those nice visiting helpers from Major Tom's Gran Control ("Can you hear me, Major Tom, is your hearing aid switched on?")
The god Woden decreed another Wednesday so clearly we worshipped at the seaside. It wasn't the blazing hot day we were expecting and the adults were having none of this going-in-the-sea lark due to the windy and overcast conditions but we reasserted our status as PuddleBlokes by not giving a poo and going right in.
We all had our bodyboards (not including Johnny who's in London) and I stayed in for ages and swam merrily in the Solent with what Bob called big waves.
We had spades for digging but while we were in the sea, one of our number placed a spade vertically in the shingle with the blade upwards, which makes an excellent target for throwing little pebbles, because if you hit it, it goes ting.
My spade was the anchoring point for the surfboards so Bens' spade was the target and we all thought that was a rather spiffing idea and sat around it in a semicircle bombing it. The missiles grew larger and larger as we worked out that with sufficient teamwork, we could gradually knock it over. Poor Bens' spade.
I got 2 hours of fresh air, even if there was no sun.