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Good afternoon to you all, my dear American cousins.

Well... on Monday Her Indoors told me that we were going camping as I had no treatments scheduled for this week.

Camping! says I, much surprised.

"Yes," she replied. "We're going to Clippesby Hall tomorrow morning. Now isn't that a nice surprise?"

Now isn't that a nice surprise? had the same air as when a Mafia capo invites somebody whose numbers don't add up to take a drive in the countryside.

"But all those pills and potions I have to take!" I protested.

"You can take them as well in a tent as you can at home," she insisted.

And indeed. All I've seen on the world for weeks has been home and the hospital. Or the hospital and home. A change would be nice.

Loading up the car and setting up the tent would be beyond me, though. "And I'm not letting you - with all the dexterity of a three-legged baby elephant - put up my precious new tent."

Her Indoors smiled. "Your mates are coming to load up the car, and I've paid extra for white-glove service at Clippesby - so you won't have to put up the tent or take it down. All you have to do is lie about - and since you've had 72 years practising being an idle bugger, that should suit you nicely."

And it did!

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We sent The Prodigal, to Fork Union Military Academy, his freshman and sophomore years of high school.
While there he learned to play ‘The little brother of war’ Lacrosse.
He talked us into letting him come home his Junior and Senior years.
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I always tried to be involved with my kids, so I volunteered as a parent.
I was the booth play announcer.
I took it serious as a heart attack.
I had the sound of a mountain lion roaring for when they scored. (Mt View Wildcats)

I had the principal call me on my cell phone.
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The team ran into the stadium in formation, and looped the track before heading to the bench.
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The Voice of an Angel
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This psycho is almost out of quarters.

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