On the Job
Get in there my son! A rare moment of solitude in the yard workshop. As soon as you go in there to do a job (in my case adding a couple of cleats to the boom) someone will come to chat; or worse, watch you work (and the all time they're thinking, I wouldn't do it that way).
Later, much later, word got about that the illustrious DrP was in town. Up from tepid Devon to meet the old boys. And there was a good turn-out to hear how he was getting on: how are the weans, how's your missus (aye indeed, the other DrP - it's like Fawlty Towers) but mostly we just talked the usual spraff. Frankie boy was on 'Stairway to Heaven' all night. At 5%, that's more than the quaffing ale that I usually err quaff. We celebrated the end of the evening with an impromptu snowball fight. See the old folks round here? I blame their parents.