How to stick oneself to fibreglass

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, however I had boxed myself into an engineering corner whilst ignoring detailed and expensive plans for the Great Hydro Scheme of Trollaigh. So a bit of ingenuity had to be displayed in forming an over-flow tank to allow non existent fish to escape safely from the gnashing and foaming hydro jaws to comply with some legislation whose purpose has long since been lost in the mists of time. Ah ha! A fibreglass moulding I thought; having never had any serious dealings with the stuff apart from the wonderful toxic aroma that used to fill the cockpit of a much loved purple Lotus Europa when the temperature rose to boiling point, which it frequently did. I thought this a simple ploy and the chap on the phone explained that all one needed was resin, a catalyst and the glass matting. To cut a long story short I have to doff my cap to Colin Chapman and numerous production boat builders who handle the stuff on a regular basis, or at least I would if my cap was not now resin-ed to my finger tips along with mixing spatulas, paint brushes, plastic pails and dearest Dottie's best kitchen scissors. Practice makes perfect and I fully intend to have another go once Accident & Emergency have prised apart my fingers and removed the super glued latex gloves which also appear to be welded to my tweed jacket.
September has passed and Autumn colours are visible if you are lucky to spot them through the torrential rain and howling gales devastating the North Argyll Glens while most of the rest of the UK seems to be basking in an Indian summer. At least the passing of the autumnal equinox heralds longer lie-ins of a morning, as I point blank refuse to rise before it's light enough to make ones way to the loo without switching a light on.
In general the month has treated us well with cheery sporting guests and even a "boys toys" trip to the Southampton Boat Show as the Trollaigh navy is still in need of a substantial vessel. Hotels in Southampton had decided to cash in on the show and as dearest Dottie was not prepared to mortgage her inheritance for the benefit of Holiday Inn at £250 a night we used our wind up Internet connection to seek more modest shelter. And as is often the case we struck pay dirt out near the airport in the shape of the Concorde Club and Ellington Lodge. Cole Mathieson the proprietor has, unbeknown to yours truly, run perhaps the most successful jazz club in England for many years and yes, of course one could pick a hole or two in his establishment however the attentive, friendly staff and fascinating surroundings make this a must for anyone wanting to be within a taxi ride of Southampton Water without breaking the bank. Dearest Dottie and I found perfect boats on this trip, unfortunately they were not the same one, so the search continues! Yours aye, Archie, The Baron Trollaigh.