A damp start to Friday morning down at the waters of Lake Brockwell.

The winter timetable threw me.

Wot No Swimming until 8:15am?

Mine all mine #lidolove

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A virgin pool awaited me.

I can soon spoil that, Comrades.

The water temperature had risen one degrees to seven since my last lovely lido dip before the Christmas break.

These minor calibrations matter.

I passed Mr Mutley doing his BONKERS hand stand down by the deep end lido wall. Back in the day and this use to be Toker’s Corner.

I’ll have some of what he’s smoking etc.

There was noting for it – just get in and BLOODY SWIM.

Which I did.

It felt fine.

Not fantastic.

But fine.

I took on board a whole mouthful of water midway through my fourth length. I didn’t recover.

I called it quits after a lame six lengths.

I cycled through the Brixton back streets and on to a school day in SW9.

It was good to catch up with Boy Y once again.

“I like your Original Journalist hoodie”

…remarked the young Mr Y.

It actually read Original Junglist.

I think I prefer the former.

Too many highlights in the school day to list them all.

But School Council, taking apart PC’s with Y12 and some gymnastics with Y8 to end the day all put a smile on my face.

I had endless school policies to sort out for SE21 later in the day.

Can we get that visit from that nice Mr Ofsted over and done with please?

I was too knackered back in the flat for pretty much anything else. I had a couple of lame work shifts, and then some FaceTime with Anna.

Getting Alexa to talk to the iPlayer was an achievement.

I’ll leave you with Hair News:

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