Monday

Up early for the lido opening time of 7:15am.

This is being pushed back as the S Ldn sunlight starts to have something of a lie in.

At a stretch then you could say that there was a slight frost on the ground. Not an Icicles frost, but certainly an autumnal smoking trace as I cycled along Stockwell Road.

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MINE ALL MINE #lidolove

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It was a similar story at Lake Brockwell. The brilliant blue sky highlighted the colour clash as the leaves start to turn the colour of golden syrup.

It’s a mis-match of colour co-ordination.

I joined in the fun with a ridiculous pair of cycling tights and retro (WEIRD) cycling jersey.

My fashion faux pas continued with an AWOL swimming hat.

Oh dear.

Technically it wasn’t needed; the water temperature was holding out at sixteen degrees. Fifteen is the tipping point for the rubber back up.

But BOLLOCKS.

My head hurt for the first length or so.

I had a quick ten length dash. I had to be back in Sunny Stockwell for an 8am work shift.

Work tools were downed two hours later.

The cricket hamper was packed for the day.

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LIDL cricket hamper #lidl #lidllove

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#LoveLidl, etc.

Monday was then all about the final jolly of the season at the Home of Champions. I made the short walk over to The Oval for one last time this season.

The ‘rrey were at home to the bloody Essex slappers.

I headed up to the Peter May Garden for a day of nonsense.

It started in the gents with a f-off telly showing the Sky broadcast right above the urinals.

My delivery was almost on par with the Surrey batting ‘attack’ for the morning.


This was a woeful morning for the champions. All out after luncheon, and that championship feeling was a little diluted.

Champagne corks randomly popped around the ground. The Members’ bar had 2002 prices as a head nod to the last time we lifted the trophy.

Like a FOOL I remained sober throughout the day.

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FUCK YEAH #3feathers

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Some fella with a Sky camera came over to point it in the direction of the Peter May boys for some Oval ambience.

Cue a mass exodus as the duckers and divers took cover from their boss.

I had to leave before the close of play with some more work shifts scheduled for back in the flat.

Winter well, my friends. Winter well.

A school email dropped: Mr Ofsted is on his way.

GOOD LUCK, friends.

I had a couple of hours more work in the flat, and was then summoned back to the Estuary Wilds.

Oh dear.

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Skywriting #Stockwell #SW8

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