Wasps are such ungrateful little bastards. One flew into the car as we were returning from brunch. I was fully prepared to save it from death by squashing when it landed on the dashboard. One gentle sweep of my hand was all it would have taken. Instead, the little bastard latched onto the small gap between my little finger and the next one along.
Then, as if that wasn’t enough, I managed to move it out the window and flick it away only to find it sitting on my other hand. I reacted very quickly. I managed to fling it outside. Somewhere. Or it may have been squished against the side of Max. Don’t know: don’t care.
It’s been a few years since I was last stung by a wasp but I haven’t forgotten what it feels like or the after affects. The sting, the numbness, the swelling, the itch. The bastards.
And it had been such a lovely morning.
Being Saturday, of course we had brunch at the Holly Bush.
Afterwards, Mirinda took the girls for a long tramp while I watched a snatch of cricket. But even lovelier was solving a problem that has beset me for a while.
For ages I’ve had problems typing into WordPress. For reasons beyond my ken, it was taking about a second per keystroke. The main problem was figuring out how to frame a question to ask if anyone had a solution online. Most of the answers to do with WordPress and speed were about slow loading of the site for readers. This was not my problem.
Then, today, I cracked it. I found someone with the exact same problem as mine. He suggested that it was the fault of a plugin called Yoast (SEO plugin). He also suggested a better alternative. I did as he suggested and my typing suddenly became instantaneous.
The speed of my typing was akin to the speed with which the approaching dark clouds decided to drench the cricketers as I sat and watched the Frensham 3rd XI play the Dockenfield 3rd XI.
They hadn’t even finished the first over before the light sprinkle of rain turned into a downpour and everyone ran for cover. There were a fair few people sitting on the hill watching as well. While the players huddled under the cover of the pavilion, we all vanished into the cover of our cars.
But it didn’t last very long. We were all soon back on the now wet benches watching Frensham bowl on the damp strip.
There were runs and one very sharp catch during my 90 minutes waiting for Mirinda to return. 90 minutes in the sun, showing off my newly trimmed beard.
I trimmed it because I thought it was looking a bit too wild and untamed. While it didn’t bother me that much, it did remind me of smelly, shouty man which was really too much.
I realise that it means I’ll not be getting the Santa job come Christmas but I can live without kids sitting on me and demanding electronic games and Buddha Boxes.
Back at home, at Chez Gaz, I tried a new recipe for Saturday Night Dinner. It was roast duck leg, Romanian style (Rață pe varză) and it was delicious. Mirinda declared that it was good enough to serve to guests. Definitely one to repeat.
