Over the weekend I walked from Padstow to Fowey with a couple of mates, itās about 30 miles and a great route. We stopped at a pub toward the end of the second day and my mate was drying his dog with a towel, a really posh older lady in her wet walking gear said āif I bend over will you do meā.
Dry fit. It was snug. Managed to smash myself in the face with a lump of oak trying to pull it apart.
More of these to do this morning, plus the receiving mortices. Hoping to do a dry fit before lunch.
I walked to the workshop today purely because I didnāt have enough petrol in the car, took me 30 mins, through lovely country lanes and wooded areas whilst listening to Matthew Halsallās āFletcher Moss Parkā. What a way to start the day, I should do it more often.
Iāve been working all weekend. Good stuff though, oak and tenons on the origin. Here is my workbench to prove it.
The bin men are here. Broad shoulders, operating efficiently at a time when most of us are barely awake. Why not hug your bin men? Hold them and tell them how much theyāre appreciated. Get dressed first, or not.
Just sobbing my tits off watching The Repair Shop.
On a couple of occasions in my past life as a web developer I dealt with very wealthy people who were trying to raise investment for large ventures. They sent me their āInvestment Memorandumsā to base the websites on, it amazed me how utterly shite they were & how investors would part with millionsā¦
The cat smells of bum mess.