Whatever that means
Plans became a fine evening with pals in the Scout Hall, chatting, beering and waiting on the bells and, as a consequence of talking to the pals, then an early rise for Greg to go get his bike and for five of us to set off for a cycle. Surprisingly good on six hours sleep.
And then the canoe was taken down to the harbour for Mandy to be on safety duty for the daft running into the (cold and polluted) river that can’t be called a Loony Dook, primarily for likely legal reasons (I think South Queensferry owns that name) but you’d hope for political correctness too.
* Just watched the video so it seemed appropriate to claim prescience and have a smirk at the fact that my first entry on Blipfoto was rejected for having a border. The photo had been processed through a little app called Camerabag that did a good attempt at an old Polaroid so it had the classic Polaroid frame around it. In the old days you couldn’t have borders nor overlaid text. The journal name was a reference to that old school way of recording your memories – Instant Photography.