Frustrating Wind

I'm cursing the wind in more ways than one this week. Firstly, I was struck down on Tuesday by a bit of the old food poisoning from one of those dodgy all-day-breakfasts in a tin. I know I should have had muesli, but quite frankly who wants to eat chopped up cardboard when there's sausages and beans beckoning for your stomach-space? By Thursday evening I was more gusty inside than the force ten blowing outside.

And I'd asked able-seaman Martyn (pictured left) to help with my inaugeral trip on board the Boat For My Potplants on the Friday, which I'd been so looking forward to with equal degrees of fear and excitement.

'I'm not coming out on that boat if it's got those stupid potplants on it', he had forewarned me. I hoped he was only joking. He must have been as he even arranged to bring his Royal Navy-serving son along for the ride - so I really was going to be in good hands, and I was praying my wind would have let up by then.

Fortunately it had - but unfortunately the north-easterly wind blowing around the boat's mooring grew stronger than ever - and we had to abandon our plans, drink Guinness and discuss geraniums instead.