Every now and then, I have a dream. Well not a dream. A version of a specific dream.It involves us having moved into a large house at some point. And there's loads of junk and stuff left from previous owners. There's a room that needs sorting out. A room we never use because it's full of stuff.
Don't say you didn't think this one was coming. Especially not after an extensive blog post about how I track all the swimming I do. Yes, it's every swimming pool I've been in since 2015! Well, in London anyway.
On Monday 6 April 2015 I went swimming. I swam 70 lengths, in a 25m pool. Later that week I went another three times, and swam an additional 180 lengths. In total I swam a distance 6.25km. How do I know? Well...
It's not a phrase I have come across very much in my life. At least, not spelt out like that. According to Google's Ngram viewer, usage peaked in the 1920s. Perhaps everyone exclaimed it whilst doing the Charleston or something. I came across it many years later, in a series of Grange Hill novels stocked in my high school library. Books with stories of Ziggy and Whammo and loads of other characters who had long gone from the TV screen. But which I read anyway. And on every page there seemed to be someone whining "Oh Gawd", "Good Gawd", or perhaps just "Gawd!"