My neighbour wanted a hand putting his tender on the foredeck before leaves for a few weeks.  Not a small item, likely 100kg, looks like a backbreaker.  I suggest that we use my spinnaker line on lucky winch, and he loves it.  His mate all turn up to help with the lift later and he happily tells them he’s done it already.  The mates shout at him asking why he didn’t think of that before the previous haulings.  

We have a laugh about it in the bar later, saying at how perhaps necessity is the mother of invention, but impatience and laziness are the grandparents.  A Norwegian with quite fluent English  says that there’s a lazy championships here next week.  Really?  We’re all amazed.  Not sure how you could validly score the laziness - surely by just turning up - you’ve lost?   No, insists, and apparently it’s the European Championship!  Wow, the laziest people from around Europe, all here to display the very best in laziness, the least energetic and most unenthusiastic and bone idle people in the whole continent.  After more discussion and exploration of the weird-sounding event,  the Norwegian tells us that it’s a regatta.  Ah right - so it’s Lasers, not laziness!  Dinghy sailing.   I would have liked to go to the European Laziness Finals and perhaps pick up some expert tips.  But there again, meh.  I’ll watch it on the telly later.  Except the remote is always miles away, sitting on the TV innit? Meh, again.