For me, Sunday mornings mean heading down to Tynemouth Rowing Club; as you may already know.
Again, as you might know, both Bobby and Niall are ill. I row when I'm ill! I went to a regatta when I was ill.
Nevertheless, I got down to rowing, courtesy of the ever brilliant Michael, and spent several upcoming hours not rowing, but, instead, babysitting Saskia. It's not all that bad, really. We did do some brilliant three-legged racing, however, it'll be nice when Bob's back on his feet; he's much better at looking after her. Bless 'em. So cute!
Back to superficial matters: I ate a burger and a sausage at the post-rowing barbecue. Yes peeps, October barbecue. I later ate my entire Sunday dinner. I have a big Sunday dinner. Loads of mashed potato.
Right, enough monologic drivel. Exeunt.
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