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Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.  I finally went and broke my run of writing 750 words a day.  It had to happen and some would say thank god it has. I'll do my best to make up for it with this mornings spillage of verbiage into your brain via your eyeballs.  Look away now if you'd rather I didn't.

For those of you with an eye for the stats - I've been averaging 928 words per day. I was making a concerted effort to hit 750 words per day thanks to the impressive website, having now broken my golden rule, I have no idea where this will take me but I'll try and keep it at least full of words even if they're not interesting or engaging.  So what's been happening??

Had a rather slow weekend, which I'm very glad about in all honesty. Work has been busy and depressing, so not having to deal with any of it for a couple of days always helps clear the brain cells back to their neutral position - a cerebral reboot effectively.  I took the time to get back onto organising the golf quarterly. If you don't know one end of a stableford scoring system from the other then in the words of the dude (So that's what you call him. You know, that or, uh, His Dudeness, or uh, Duder, or El Duderino if you're not into the whole brevity thing) then obviously you're not a golfer...

So, Saturday Me & Mrs G took a quick drive out to the course that I've selected to drop off the menu choices (and to have a little pub lunch on the way home) only to find out that the society organiser and chef (Jon) has upped sticks and cleared off to Australia. Worse still, this means that the menu selections have to be reduced to a set menu, which really won't go down well with the lads, especially as they'd already made their choices. These things are sent to try us, and try us they do. In these instances I follow these wise words "When things get bad, stay home, get drunk and bite on a shoe". Needless to say, my shoes are chewed.

On top of this one of our number is going to Canada for work this week and his arrival at the golf on Saturday is under threat from Ash Clouds and BA strikes which will just add an extra level of complexity to the event.

If things could get any worse, we (or from Mrs G's perspective, I) single handedly failed to find a decent pub for any lunch on the way home, which meant that we'd wasted a good hour and a half fannying about when she could have been getting washing on the line. Note to self (and anyone else who's listening): Don't bother turning up to the "Red Lion" at Westbury-on-Severn at 2:15 (Who advertise that they serve food until 2:30) expecting to get anything to eat. To$$ers!

Sunday got the lawn mowed, which was just about due. I have a "keep it short" policy and "don't pick up the clippings" method which keeps it looking green and in pretty good condition. It's suffering a bit from some light dandelion rash this year, and lumps and bumps all over the shop, but generally it's worthy of about 7.5 out of 10. That's about 5 more than Wembley at the moment.

Finally got to catch up with "Looking for Eric". I'd completely overlooked this movie but it turns out that it's a complete masterpiece. A stroke of genius writing and Eric Cantona plays it perfectly. There's clearly no end to the man's talent (Not that I'm interested in football). It also contains the immortal line "Where ever you go I'll find you, coz I'm.... a postman!!" If you haven't seen it, it's an all round winner.

Must dash - I can smell the grindstone from here