Morning Morningside

First thing up to Morningside to see some flooring shop. No sooner is the back room completed, than the next (the glass one) must be tackled. And completed before Christmas is the order. I'm beginning to agree with my pal AJ, who posted on Facebook:
I am really not sure about this controlled slavery case. The slaves spend their lives in domestic drudgery but are occasionally allowed out of the house in controlled circumstances. That sounds remarkably like my own life.

Haw, indeed. Anyway after that it was down to the boat as I'd lost the house keys and assumed I'd left them in my dungarees. Naw. They were just lying on the seats in the cockpit. Tsk. Anyway, I tried to sneak out the yard unseen, but to no avail (fine expression). On went the invisible leg shackles. Slavery, I tell you! The harbour seccy had me back at that bloody channel with the stone chisel and mash hammer. We've knacked our pneumatic drill, y'see. This could take some time.