Last Friday, Pascoe was leaving us for Cambridge where
Caroline would pick him up in her car and drive him and Ian and Michael to camp
at Wasdale Head in the Lake District. Camping at Wasdale Head would have been
enough by itself for me, but they were planning to unicycle up Scafell with its
screes and precipitous drops.
I had scheduled in some fretting, but barely found the time
due to starting back to school where I teach Latin.
Confused dreams with Caecilius and Metella unicycling
through Pompeii.
The unicycle ride should have been completed on Saturday, but
belatedly we discovered that our heroes should never have ventured out in a vehicle
with four wheels instead of just one – Caroline’s clutch had gone.
A day later, they were able to set off again, but we at home did not
know that. Jolly big hills blocked the
signal and strangely, internet was not available in the mountains.
So it was a while before we discovered that they had achieved their objective
safely.
I would like to say I had been on tenterhooks, but instead I
had been worrying about how to explain Quintus’s very short skirt to my year
sevens.
Hopefully, he will never, even in my nightmares, attempt to
ride a unicycle in that tunic.
This fashion website is really pants. I wanted to buy the shorts but nothing happens when I click on them. You'll have to up your marketing game and get some fitter models.
ReplyDeleteI wondered if you might like to model, Springheel. You'd look great in a stola.
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