A family gathering. Mum, Dad and John came at 12, and Sue, Pete, and Christopher followed at 12:30. John, with the help of Dad, plastered a wall, and then while boxing in some pipes they fractured one, and had to do some some sub-aqua joinery and plumbing. Welding equipment was sent for and the murky waters eventually subsided. The ladies, oblivious to the life and death underwater struggle, were cooing over Christopher in the garden. I passed glasses of sherry to them through the window. Beer flowed like Bacchanalia too. Sue, Pete and the adonis baby left after the hapless workforce had sent the central heating into oblivion. Christopher is blond and blue eyed and raring to make a bolt for it. He is one of the healthiest, robust specimens I have ever seen. We ate salad sandwiches and swilled ale and coffee and watched someting called 'The Professionals' on ITV.
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