Good running

GOOD running last night, with laps of the 460-metre loop in Youngs Park as darkness fell.
It's never easy, but having nearly 30 runners there made it better, because there was always someone to chase, or try to stay ahead of.
Rowdy Robbie made the night's headlines when he encountered a collie dog up on the prom. Rowdy Robbie was going flat-out when the collie crossed his path, and he went flying.
Fortunately the dog was unhurt, as was Rowdy Robbie, although he and the dog owner were both mighty cross.
We were pleased there was no repeat of the last time someone got in Rowdy Robbie's way on a fast run. Then, he barged past two gentlemen of the fairground, picked up the mobile phone one of them had dropped and threw it across Paignton Green.
The two gentlemen of the showmen fraternity would have killed him if they could have caught him, and Rowdy Robbie's likeness still hangs on hoopla stalls the length and breadth of the land so they can get even with him if they ever do see him.

Where do tea huts go in winter?

They wind up in the corner of a car park, waiting for another summer of fun.

Autumn Armagnac

I was going to blog about the end of summer and the onset of autumn, but it doesn't seem so bad.
Ray Davies said tea, and toasted buttered currant buns, can't compensate for lack of sun, and he was right of course.
But this evening I drove home along the sea front with the window down, sunglasses on and 'Harvest for the World' playing on the car stereo.
I exchanged waves with Moses at Hollicombe, too.
Autumn seemed all right, really.
The picture above shows the Gulf of Morbihan, as seen from the campsite on which we spent a very happy week. it seems a long time ago now.
Since then we've had a marathon, Goodwood, various university trips, races, beer festivals and all sorts.
More of some of those later, no doubt.

Man the lifeboat!

THE Torbay lifeboat looked tremendous in Paignton Harbour tonight. coming in on the rising tide just after the Paignton ARC youngsters had brought Wave Dancer in after their training row.
Coxswain Criddle brought the Beth Sell = standing in for Torbay's regular lifeboat which is in for a service - alongside after Ken Lane had moved the Dart Princess out of his way, without the use of any bow thrusters, as he pointed out.
A queue of people went on board for a look at the impressive lifeboat, and hopefully Mike and his collectors got a few coins in their buckets.
Elsewhere the stamp collectors had a busy day on the Green and the allotment garden is finished, complete with Anderson shelter.
There was dancing and singing, and moving to the grooving, and some impromptu ballroom steps from the committee.
On Tuesday it's fireworks, with the first firework a little after 9.30pm. The fun starts well before that, however, so come down and see us.
Don't forget, the quizzes are still being sold, you can still win a tandem sky dive with the Red Devils, and the fairground is still in full swing.

Over here

AS expected, it's getting busy at the regatta. I'm over here right now.
Why not come down to the Green and join in the fun!

The Ballad of Dodgeball Turoczy

So, I turned 50 with a whole week of revelry.
We did the air show at Yeovilton, then came home to a night at the pub.
Then the following day we did beach games at South Milton.
At one point there were 44 people there, all playing rounders, British Bulldog or dodgeball.
It was all very dangerous from a health and safety point of view, and great fun.
Elmer got so enthusiastic about the sports that he couldn't run for a couple of days. Jamie the Legs flew his giant stunt kite and Mrs Fudd rugby tackled the Caerphilly Kid so hard that his eyes are still watering now.
Dodgeball Turoczy earned her nickname with a bravura performance in the game and Jimmy Green Shorts took a tennis ball full in the eye from nephew Declan, overarm and intentional from a range of about three feet.
Brave lad, he hardly batted an eyelid, and later kicked a football at me very hard in what can only be described as the 'gentleman's area'. I still gave him a lift home.
Lizzie's Dave, who probably hadn't played British Bulldog since Bill Haley and the Comets were in the charts, showed some neat footwork across the sand but was caught trying to sneak up behind the row of tents.
Cricket started with a lot of poor shots, but then DIY Dave got his eye in and started hitting missiles. It's a big beach and we had a big area to ourselves, but it didn't stop DIY Dave from seeking out and hitting some people sitting nearby.
They were very good about it.
Picnics ranged from sandwiches and Pringles to Nanna's full-on tagine mounted over hot coals.
No-one seemed to mind too much that I had led an eight-car convoy in completely the wrong direction getting there. We found it in the end.

Speaker's Corner

There is a twig at the top of the tree at the bottom of the garden that is like a kind of Speaker's Corner for the local birds.
They hop on and off in turn, say their piece, hurl abuse at the black cat from over the back, and move on.
I sat there in the sun the other day taking their pictures. They aren't the prettiest of birds, just the odd sparrows and garden finches that pass by. None of them is an oil painting come to life but I like them just the same.
I wonder what they're saying?