As is commonly the case, numbers were down on our running day. (Do people think that physical exercise is involved?). Next week we lose another one as Judy heads for Japan, and yet others are planning for warmer climes in the months ahead. Rod held out until after smoko, finally succumbing to running Percy in SE Germany. Up to a point, that is. He finally gave up trying to figure where the gaps had been built in to the track, and declared that it was Derek's job anyway. Martin, I think, held out all afternoon, planting weeds in his river. Geoff the Sec, George, Dale and I did clean track, then drive trains. Geoff the Pres was a couple of bays to the West helping a grandson get older, but was with us in spirit.
At smoko we skipped any suggestion of a committee meeting, and belatedly celebrated a year's occupation of the Pool Room with the aid of choccie things surmounted by a four candle power train, and delicious (word of the week) little shortbread and cream devices, all organised by Heather.
I do confidently predict that next Sunday is a work day. I do not predict what form that work will take. I doubt that it will raise a sweat.
Until the 13th
Peter.
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