thank goodness it's Friday

The week appears to have shot by. The now complete second course of antibiotics continue to appear to have done their job, though the last time it took a full week for the infection's resurgence after the completion of the first course. So jury is still out, but I'm optimistic.

Meanwhile, I haven't touched a drop of alcohol since a week last Saturday, which is a source of some personal lament, but wanted to give the antibiotics the best chance of doing their job. Despite the lament, I feel strangely proud of what is actually a pretty irrelevant personal achievement.

The weekend looms and I find myself still hobbling around on a set of crutches. My foot is improving, but still hurts and won't bear my weight. Ironically, it's a little over a week since the fifteenth anniversary of my breaking it. As my Grandad used to say any time we used to injure ourselves as kids, "You'll pay for that one day, son"

Thornbury, Sept 2010

It happened the weekend before a planned trip up the Severn Estuary from Thornbury Sailing Club to Frampton Pill that I'd organised with friends from Frampton-on-Severn Sailing Club. The break saw me relegated, despite my protest, disappointment and ingeniously having semi-waterproofed the fresh plaster-cast by wrapping it in a bin bag and securing it with duct-tape, from helming Dad's Wanderer dinghy to a spot as cameraman in the rib that was accompanying the Frampton fleet up channel.

Severn Estuary, Sept 2010

My son Ben stood in for me as helm and did a great job in my absence. The estuary is really just a big muddy river, but we were all just lake sailors, and any big muddy river with a 15m spring tide needs to be taken seriously.

Frampton Pill, Sept 2010

Once we were all safely landed in Frampton Pill and recovered to the sailing club, I did then steal a Hansa Access 300 from Sailability fleet, so did actually get some sailing in before the end of the day, crutches, bin bag, duct tape and all.

FOSSC, Sept 2010

This weekend I have a couple of gigs; a Bristol pub this evening, and then a beer festival in Stroud tomorrow afternoon. The need to be at the latter for about 1300 to load in would preclude me from karate tomorrow morning, even if my foot were recovered enough to train, and it's patently, frustratingly not.

However, if the rigours of being on my feet for a couple of gigs Friday and Saturday don't completely cripple me, assuming I can still pull a sailing boot over my ankle on Sunday morning (the swelling has definitely gone down a bit) then the plan is a race the Albacore with my young friend Alex. Getting the boat in and out of the water might be a bit of a challenge, but I'm sure Alex's dad will help. Once afloat, my theory is that with the Albacore I should be able to get from one side of the boat to the other through a tack or a gybe by way of a judicious hop, if necessary.

The photo at the top is, of course, Charlie. Laughing, I think, at his Grandad's plans for the coming weekend. The remaining photos were from three weeks ago, the last time I got out on the water. There was no racing scheduled, so Amanda and I decided to get a bit of practice in with the Lasers instead of sailing the Albacore as usual. It was a good day, still warm and a light wind with the occasional lively gust for entertainment; a fun bit of sailing.