Various boobs

A short missive to bring us up to date before we set off on our expedition to the wilds of Scapa Flow. We should be setting out from Rochester Friday morning and driving the full lengths of both England and Scotland to catch the ferry from the very north east over to the Orkney Islands. We will be on proper explorer rations (mint humbugs and Pringles), and hacking our way through the jungles of the M1.

Last Monday week, discovered the butterscotch loveliness that is Starbuck’s Crème Caramel (with cream) and decided that this was a treat to be had very occasionally. Ended up doing nowt at club due to baby diver having a conflicting schedule. Instead gossiped over a pint at the bar and got home at a decent time. Newsletter went out, tentative possible proposal for me to join the committee in November maybe, details for Scapa discussed, impromptu dive at the lakes planned for Saturday, and conducted impromptu lecture on burning discs and the difference between CD-R’s and CD-RW’s

Tuesday decided that a crème caramel was deserved as it was bound to be a bad day, being a Tuesday and all.

Wednesday held Diana’s hand as she wanted to go get her boob measurements checked at M&S. She’s always worn what her mum told her she was when she was a teenager, and now that she’s in her forties with a creeping suspicion that she’s not what she was when she was younger - especially after bearing two children, she decided it was time to check. But wasn’t brave enough. So I took her and went in first. And found to my total and utter dismay that my happiness at 34D with the odd delusion of 34C was, well. Half wrong. 34 is correct, no doubt. But I wasn’t expecting the DD proclamation.

Having now got appropriate lingerie, things are admittedly more comfortable, and I can’t believe I have something that a lot of women pay vast fortune’s to have. However, I now feel justified in being cranky 21 days out of 28. Chris, by the way, is extremely happy and felt the need to share this news with all of his male colleagues, all of whom I’m told were extremely jealous.
Diana as it turns out is in fact a C cup where she had always thought she was a B. She is very happy and plans to continue swimming every day with the goal of achieving a D cup. With the amount of running she does too, she clearly doesn’t believe me when I say that anything over a C cup will seriously curtail her running. Celebrated revelations with a Crème Caramel.

Thursday Mr PacificBlue Client came in with his arm in a sling and announced that he had been assaulted. He was grinning manically as he told us this. He gleefully informed as that he’d been cycling with a group of others through the woods and spotted a narrow gap through the trees where the others were taking a big gap. The gap was not too narrow, he insisted, his judgement was perfect and his cycling prowess beyond reproach, however he admitted to failing to consider the baby oak that leapt out and assaulted him as he was passing through said narrow gap. He tried to arrest the baby oak, but as the handcuffs wouldn’t fit, he went to the pub instead. Had a mad dash down to Dover to get stuff sorted for when I go on holiday, and by the time I got back to Ashford, was so dehydrated that I decided to have a Crème Caramel.

Friday got very mildly pissed at lunchtime. Slight sticky point when I returned after lunch to receive a call from Mr Pernickety Client who wanted to go over all our processes and procedures in minute detail as they related to his specific case. I know at one point I invited him to come in and read our four inch Quality Manual. After two hours, two mugs of caffeine and reassuring noises from Julia, Mr Client remarked that I had been incredibly helpful thank you and goodbye. Joy. Thoroughly deserved the Crème Caramel I went out for afterwards.

Chris cooked me pork roast dinner. Yum! :O)

Saturday went to the lakes. Had very pleasant dive testing out all backup kit to ensure it was all still functional in low visibility due to kicked up silt by trainee divers. Had air cylinder filled for Sunday’s dive.

Sunday morning was beautiful. Checked kit, and found airfill was 140 bar. 100 bar less than it should have been. In other words, I had just over half a cylinder’s worth of air; not nearly enough to do a thirty metre dive; not unless I change my name to Tanya Streeter, anyway. Many phone calls, beggings and pleading, and managed to source another *full* cylinder.

Went out to the White Rose off St Margaret’s bay. Flat water, visibility looked good, and slack was on it’s way. With slack almost there, we kitted up. And my finstrap broke. And no one had a spare instrap. So I had to stay in the boat and sulk. Moo.

On Monday, popped dive kit in boot of car and drove to dive club in Chatham as per usual. Once there, swapped stuff around various car boots. Locked keys in boot. Screamed. Sent Chris down to Ashford to get spare keys.

Got club dive kit and took very nervous student in. She did very well, and her confidence increased. Felt much better about taking her this time. Still can’t get past mask clearing though. Chris was at bar when returned to club, having opened car up and found keys trapped in car. Big hugs.

Thursday packed for holiday. Chris picked me up to stay at Rochester overnight. Halfway up M20 realised I’d forgotten dive computer. Turned around and went back to get it. Eventually got to Rochester. Chris burned dinner. Then rescued it. Big hugs.

So. Tomorrow we embark on our grand adventure.

Wish us luck.