A haircut early on Friday morning with Rasheed underneath Brixton Academy.
I am experimenting with what I am optimistically calling my ‘hair.’
Oh dear.
I have gone from a No.1 all over a couple of months ago, to having a 3 on top and a 2 at the sides.
Nobody else seems to notice apart from Rasheed and I.
Just wait until I grow back my Goth fringe, folks.
I cycled on through Brixton and to the lovely lido for some Lake Brockwell purification.
I pondered whilst packing my swimming bag about the wetsuit. But the 15 degrees of Thursday evening really was fine.
I had a lane to myself in which to indulge. The selfishness of the cold water swimmer is an all too recognisable trait.
The water was clear from the deep, down to the rapidly reducing water levels at the other end. It was warm enough for a skinny dip - that’s the plan for early Saturday morning…
It all got a little saucy in the gents. Lido Jonathan asked if I would pull him off if he was wearing a wetsuit.
Of course, Comrade.
I had to clean up my act for the 9am school assembly back in Sunny Stockwell. It was the joy of the annual Black History Month celebration.
I was totally clueless on the music round. I suggested to Boy Y that one photo was of Mariah Carey.
It was Beyonce.
Boy Y didn’t speak to me for the rest of the day.
It was a full on Friday, running around the brilliant new building and trying to capture as much activity as possible.
We nailed a video tour of the new school. I also hit a home run in indoor rounders.
Way to go, Dude.
I made the short cycle back to the Sunny Stockwell flat for an evening of work shifts.
In Estuary Wilds Kitten News: one of them has entered my upstairs office apparently. I missed out on the happy occasion. I feel like a new Dad who missed out on his firstborn.
Hot tea, toast and some Billy Bragg made up for the loss.
I watched a TOTP repeat from 1982. Madness’ House of Fun put a huge smile on my face.
I’ve got a date in Pop Brixton tomorrow.
You FOOL!