Have discovered the secret of getting the iPad 3G to work... Curse, switch it off and on again 50 times, try flicking every bloody setting 50 times, finally give up, then watch it suddenly connect. Steve Jobs? Big jobs more like.
Anyway... beach day today: note I wrote "beach", not "bleach" which is what the washing-bowl is currently full of after J threw up in it. Not sure if it's too much sun or whether I'll be doing the same tomorrow.
Invested thirty snots in the half-day hire of a sit-on sea kayak. Best value for money I've had for ages, as we didn't see the kids for about 4 hours. Correction: didn't *speak* to the kids, whereas we *did* spend 4 hours craning our necks to see where they were, visions of our faces under the headline Three kids drown while neglectful parents indulge in 'rest' on beach.
Did have a break from kayak-monitoring: bestowed G with the benefit of my deep knowledge of the secret and ancient art of beach stream damming. For reference, the basic technique is to use large stones to stabilise the dam, and bladderwrack seaweed buried under sand to seal it. The project did eventually succeed, but resources were tight due to a dearth of suitably qualified labour on the beach, forcing me to employ random applicants with scant regard to their experience or attitude. The initial phase completed more or less on target but profligate use of seaweed bust the budget creating pressure on raw materials availability and a consequent increase in demand. Some unseemly industrial sabotage ensued, with rival projects pilfering from the build site and tempting the labour force away with promises of higher rewards and improved working conditions in the next door dam project. I was unable to stem the haemorrhage of skilled workers just at the moment that the project was at its highest point of risk, and so did the decent thing and fell on my sword. Gerry had run off anyway.
High point of the day: queuing for ages at the 'Hidden Hut' beach cafe (Porthcurnick beach, highly recommended) as the food gradually ran out and the menu shrank, only to have a full tray of freshly-baked Cornish pasties plonked in front of me just as I arrived at the counter, much to the chagrin of the chap who had just been served.
Low point: having to up sticks and moving our beach pitch/bags/shoes/bucket/spade etc. from up to the top of the beach to a stony, cramped and busy spot because of the incoming tide, and watching as the tide stops rising just in front of where we had been sitting, then newcomers arriving: "What a great spot!"
This beach thing is knackering.