Itching for the Weekend!

My thoughts were to smash through some garden upkeep, then join the crowds on the waterfront market and fest stalls.
Three quarters of the way through cutting the front lawn I felt a wicked sting on my Achilles? Checking it was only one mark and not the snakebite it felt like, I carried on the next stripe. Two strips of lawn cut later and another massive stinging sensation. I looked down at my ankle and it suffered another two shocks. Then my other leg felt it and Whack, the middle of my back! I was in a swarm of wasps or hornets.

I let go of the lawnmower dead mans handle, started slapping my legs and torso, remembered how to run and dashed for sanctuary in the garage. Between the cars, up the steps and hoping the last few attackers don't fancy a home visit.

The stings were painful, the itchiness for the weekend a real buggerance.

Trepidation cutting the lawn at the back of the house was overcome the following day, easy job and my mates Pantera and Tigre watched keenly (waiting for my Tasmanian Devil dance I think)
A small bottle of Steam Whistle cerveza helped me keep cool on a day that my iPhone kept shutting down on overtemp in glorious sunshine

I watched the Urban Slide with a beer on the veranda of the curling club. The kids facing a high drop onto a massive air pillow were fun to watch. Up the ladder with bravado, see the drop, bottle the jump a few times, back down the ladder. Bravo to the few daredevils who made the jump (most were girls!)

Intrigued by the news that there are two institutions nearby with fantastic views of the bay, I drove around/through the grounds of a mental home (painting the tennis court walls to make it look like a swimming pool is cruel I think) . It really looked the part of a Cuckoos Nest with amazing buildings

Just along the road is a correctional centre, looking every bit a modern super secure site. if i ever have to be banged up inside it is my preferred place, a cell window with fantastic sunsets, great wildlife and hundreds of fantastic boats to pick from for escape. How I've managed to not be a resident of one place or the other is a puzzle most of my friends would ask I guess.

The Tikki Bar on the harbour seems as good as place as any for a beer, and discreet itching, to round off the weekend. Just the night toilet walk with Pantera and Tigre to do. Breakfast on the wharf tomorrow, watch the Monday morning back-to-workers to make it taste better