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It took Cap’n Harmer less than five minutes to start grumbling about a certain Mr Haem and his fellow deserters; and he was still smarting when we alighted at the pond below Mam Tor, a little damp and chastened by some rather dubious descending. This notwithstanding, Andy seemed to enjoy himself in parts, and it was good to see a healthy number of newbies in attendance (though you need to know, folks, that the most valuable exercise is to be had in the pub afterwards).
I’m less convinced of the propriety of second-hand (or should that be “sustainable”?) kitchen salesman touting their flooring wares on a wartin’ night. Is it time to call another emergency meeting?
Categories: Warts