Fatbastard: Blog

Kia ora koutou
My darling wife is suffering badly from 'Trout Fever'and is away seeking treatment. No trout have so far been harmed! I am still 'busy as' in consequence, and though I have managed to complete and post Ch27, I haven't even started the next one.
Please make a comment!
Please!
Pretty please!

Kia ora koutou
Even though we are four weeks past the shortest day here in Godzone Country (tongue in cheek just a little), winter proper has just arrived. For many readers, waking to 5 degrees C is nothing, but for me it's bloody cold and time to set and light a fire. Which implies facing the woodshed and an urgent need for some stacking and organising. My back and hips and knees aren't coping too well, so Osteopath blah blah blah, and a trip to town basically writes off the day. And the toilet in the ensuite has shat itself (imagine that!) and the plumber has had some health problems and is only working part time blah de blah.
So - Ch 26 (which is 'delicate' anyway), will be a few days late.
Some comments (even critical ones) woud encourage me.

We've had an amazing summer weatherwise down here in Godzone Country, but a bout of manflu (felt worse than COVID) and a major project repairing a retaining wall called a halt to fishing and diving.
Q. - What is a Clydesdale?
A. - A pony designed by an engineer!
Anyhoo - Ch 11 is now finished and will go in the queue in a day or so. I'll try to complete the story and post on a regular schedule again, but no promises.

Summer madness here in Aotearoa continues, and since I am 79, I am making the most of the summer weather and visits from friends and rellies. I am still SCUBA diving, but with the awareness that each summer might be the last for that particular activity. Anyhoo, the next chapter of my adventures with Pauline is part finished and I will get back to it as soon as the weather craps out or the string of friends and rellies visiting dwindles. When you live at the beach, you get lotsa summer visitors.

A Happy New Year to all. Southern Hemisphere summer madness continues. About fifty five years ago, a group of testosterone poisoned young divers planned to go to Paerengarenga, a remote Northrn harbour. This summer, I finally made it, and was a little sad to realise that I'm the only one who did, and the rest are dead.
Anyhoo, now back home and the neglected domestic chores have priority over writing. Back to the story as soon as I can.