Told Grandad about our upcoming trip to London and the planned walking tour of all the best houses. He was most jealous, I think he wants to join the family or something.
Anyway, it was a normal day in school with sit-down volleyball to emulate the Paralympics, draft essays about the emotional rollercoaster that is the fairground Ghost Train, and the creation of a new personal website to record our topic coursework, something I need practise in.
But I hastened home after work as I like getting to Extra-Swimming early (so I can practise diving) and I also felt the need for hot pasta and some HayDay.
After swimming came the dreaded 2 1/2 kilometre run. I am in 2 minds about this: I know I need to do it and appreciate the results it has already given me, but running is hardly a pleasure in itself and if it's cold you get this trans-epidermal thermocline where you're hot underneath but your skin is freezing.
But with determination and a sensible starting pace, I did the first half of it without stopping. Then we went to the seashore at very low tide, flat calm, to pay homage (throw rocks) to the Sea That Encircles The Globe (one of my favourite planets) and ran back and there was ice cream for pudding.
Gargamel (not related to Gilgamesh, Mesopotamian action hero of the 3rd Millennium BC) is the bad guy out of the Smurfs. He wants to kill them, eat them, enslave them or sell them into bondage, the archetypal antagonist. I mean, he's labelled as an evil Wizard but he doesn't want to destroy society, bring anarchy to the land or watch the world burn, he just has a smurficidal allergy to little blue mushroomy geezers, don't we all, perfectly reasonable.
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