It is the longest hour of the week.
When manoevring into' The Bridge' (you know the one) - am merely able to drum up enough energy to hum 'London Bridge is Falling Down' during contortions - before collapsing into an ungainly heap.
When lying flat on tum with instruction to 'zip and hollow' (joke) my mind is cast back to days of yore when worried about lack of breasts (trust I am allowed to use these words on Blog).
Whereas my 'barrage balloons' (memories of the war) tho' previously appealing to opposite sex - now distinctly inhibit any movements on floor. Ah, happy memories!
Will post picture of patchwork block(s) as penance for moaning.
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