Okay, that’s it. I’ve had enough of all these sheilas heading off to NZ and paddling in MY waters. I’m going too, tomorrow. To Aoteoroa, the land of Minties, Jaffas, Pineapple Lumps, real chocolate, hokey pokey ice cream and the best vino. And spring.
For the first time dad’s admitted that he’s starting to feel his age. Not bad for 86. But if I could just get him to lay down the chain saw for his winter season’s supply of firewood and pay someone to lug all the rolls up the bank, I reckon he’d feel a lot better, and perhaps even reduce what he calls his “cardiac incidents”. But it’s hard to convince someone of this who indignantly proclaims that he’s always done every thing for himself, ALWAYS!
So I’m leaving the family and paddle at home – we’ll take his new grandson back some time next year, when he’s crawling and really creating havoc – and spending a few weeks to catch up. And hopefully we’ll even get away up the coast in the boat for a week or so.
So this ol’ blog will probably be a bit quiet until after Thanksgiving. But dad and I’ll raise a glass to you all.
And the photo? That’s dad’s home built sander, out in his workshop.