AHPP

He’s trekked for six weeks through deepest Kashmir to the ashram of Gregg, Senior Global Pasty guru. He’s eaten one while levitating ten inches above a surfboard, riding the perfect wave of a perfect storm. He once baked and divided five between 5000 hungry stoner metal fans on the shores of the Sea of Galilee.

Chatting between songs at band practice last night as Robbie was wolfing down fistfuls of nuts. “Christ. Have you eaten today?” “Yeah. Well Huel.” It gets worse. Apparently you can get supermarket meal deals of entirely Huel products. A variety of cartons and cans to meet your nutritional needs. Fxcking fuxk off. I’d rather die or go on a caravan holiday with Les.

Not literally whole dumplings from a packet. I’m not a monster.

Big, successful dumplings today. From a fuxking packet. The ignominy…

Tree consulting or something else?

At a guess, yes. Anything is better than nothing for the desperation of winter, kerbside welding.

I spent three days last winter welding the van. Workshop probably five times the area of yours, much taller, probably less well insulated. A slightly bigger one of those on tickover was almost too warm. It was a godsend.

He’s already round there killing the bloke’s extended family.

Stihl are better but not so much better as to be worth it when you already have the Makita batteries and are only doing small work. I bet a reciprocating saw would do a lot of what you need. Or a silky.

Mine’s 12 feet minus however many inches I’ve had to cut off. Triple extension. Some kind of long reach feather duster. When it really dies, I’ll make the next one strong enough to rig with.

I don't grapple but I do use a pole, which is similar. It's brilliant.

Thanks but it's not a particularly sad thing as these things go. He had people looking out for him and it didn't drag on as long as it could have. I urged him to not bother with chemo (or frankly anything) and just live and die as fast as possible. I had the good grace to not say I told you so. He had a fabulously direct way of speaking that will amuse me forever. "I'm not looking forward to this test tomorrow. They're going to shove something up my dick." A few people on here knew him. I'll raise a glass to him tonight.

I'm a rifle shooter, rubbish with shotguns and not massively interested in shooting driven game. I'll probably have a go on beaters' day to say I've done it and to see it from the other side though. I've only been beating a handful of times but getting into it because my mate goes, it gets me out of the house and it's good for the dog. Still learning the tactics but I get used for what I think is a stop? Like if a long wood is being driven the long way, I'll be thirty yards outside the wood steering the sideways escapers back in or down the valley. On a different sombre note, after today going so well I thought to myself, "I know who'd love to hear of this triumph: Ray." Ray's dead. Keen countryman, lived really well, kept really fit. Punished by a presumably vegetarian god for the amount of meat he produced with bladder cancer. Went from 100 to 5 in a very short time and died gasping for breath sat down.

Have you had much to do with shooting, Mick?