I was teaching internet safety to a group of cadets, and started off with an ice breaker (the idea of which I had pikied from Farcebook or some other antisocial meeja). “Imagine you are to be the godparent of the new royal sproglet. You need to have a posh-sounding name”. I then asked them to invent a name by taking the name of a grandparent, the name of their favourite pet, and the name of the street where they first lived. That done, and pseudo-names written on the board, I carried on with the rest of the session.

Towards the end we got onto online accounts and what to do if you forget your password.
“The site needs to know that you are who you say you are, so when you set up your account, you are often asked to provide answers to questions that only you would know”. I explained. “Things such as”, I continued, “your grandparent’s name, where you lived, you pet’s name …” Dramatic pause.
“Oh …” called one of the cadets as the penny dropped, “you’ve linked it together, that’s really clever”

Saturday we pottered about in the morning and early afternoon. Big Sis put a comment on farce book about how she had just run her fastest 5km – er, a whole minute slower that the one I had run that morning. Not that I am competitive towards my siblings or anything.

In the afternoon I spent a couple of hours tidying CGF’s shed – something I’ve been threatening/promising to do for almost two years. It was a case of take everything out, throw out as much as possible, put the remainder back in tidily. Sunday evening, CGF Sprog 3, who had been away for the weekend, asked if I could draw a map of where everything was. I obliged, with a not-to-scale and hopelessly out-of-perspective diagram. She then asked “Could we fit a [adult] tricycle in there?” I have no idea why she wants a tricycle. The answer, btw, is “probably not” – but we could fit in an extra bicycle, so I may buy myself a cheapish one to keep there, to save having to lug mine between Eastleigh and Smalltown. Though I could always cycle there on my free Fridays.

In the evening we went out for a meal (Date Night). Because two-thirds of the sprogs had gone out to Eastleigh, we went to the Mucky Duck. Back in the day I used to go there regularly (a pleasant walk up the river from where I was then living), but I’ve not been for a while. We had a pleasant meal – not outstanding, but reasonable for the price.

Sunday I went go-karting with a group from Smalltown. It was good fun – but hot and tiring. My arms ached the next day, and my back is still bruised from bouncing against the seat. I came sixth overall. And if you’re wondering whether there were only six competitors, you are both wrong and late – CGF Sprog 3 has already said it.

Trouble with these fun sporting events (which is one reason I never take part in sports events organised at work (another reason is that I am hopeless at sport)) is that there is always someone who takes it just a bit too seriously. In this case someone brought his own overalls and helmet – immediately setting himself apart as “someone who was a bit of an expert”. Possibly “ex” as in a has-been, and “spurt” as something that gives under pressure.

Other than that, it’s been a fairly quiet week. Which probably means that I’ve forgotten to do something, but never mind – it will catch up with me sooner or later. I’m going to watch the [new] Clangers to see if it is as good as it used to be.