Wimbledon starts

It was a perfect day for Andy Murray to begin his defence of his Wimbledon title. It wasn’t too hot, the sky was blue and, most importantly it didn’t rain. Murray won his first round match even though it appears he’s nursing some sort of hip injury.

That’s enough about tennis (for me).

This morning at the gym I couldn’t help but notice this woman (merely for convenience, I’m going to call her Joan) and the way she uses the equipment. All the machines have instructions on their use but perhaps poor Joan can’t read. Most of the resistance machines state they should be used slowly. I figure this must give more resistance and, therefore provide a beneficial workout.

Joan, however, is clearly of the opinion that spending ten seconds on each machine, performing about two repetitions is adequate for whatever she’s doing it for. To be fair, she does have a go on all of them but I really don’t see the point.

While she is clearly over 60, when she walked around there appeared to be nothing wrong with her move-ability. It might sound as if I’m being over critical but, seriously, I don’t care how she exercises, I’m just amazed she hasn’t read the instructions. Or asked someone. There’s always plenty of staff around.

One thing that I am critical of though is the fact that she didn’t wipe down any of the equipment afterwards. I guess she was hardly working up a sweat so didn’t see the point. Still, it’s a bit annoying when the majority of people do it.

Anyway, Joan aside, the rest of my day was very pleasant. After shopping, I tackled the laundry mountain that is threatening to completely block the bedroom. It’s extraordinary how washing can pile up just because you miss a few days…actually I guess it’s not THAT extraordinary.

There were a few plants to disperse around the place (old bluebell bulbs to move to the Misnamed Nursery Bed, a delphinium to replace them, old strappy thing that I mistook for a plant removed and geranium replacing it) and the grass to cut. Having cut the grass there was, obviously, a short break sitting on it with a bottle of water and my book.

And, of course, we went to the park where we met, among other dogs, an entire family (about four generations) of chihuahuas. The smallest one was slightly smaller than a small rat, the biggest was still smaller than Freya.

“What the hell was that thing?”

Emma proved just how antisocial she is by suddenly appearing from behind a tree to frighten a poor collie half to death. Emma didn’t bark or snarl or do anything aggressive but it was rather sudden and I think the collie may have been of a slightly nervous disposition. In fact the collie’s owner claimed that Emma was a teddy bear and clearly only a danger to herself.

“What collie? I’m only interested in the tennis (ball).”

The park was stunning today. It’s always at its best when the weather is mild and today that’s exactly what it was. We could easily have spent most of the day there, sitting under a convenient tree but, the laundry mountain was calling so we returned home.

Avenue of Trees

Before I end this bucolic post, I feel the need to add that I had the leftover pork belly and intense sauce over soba noodles for dinner. It was lush.

And, finally, from tonight’s I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue, courtesy of Jack Dee:

A duck is about to cross the road when a chicken comes up and says “Don’t. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

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1 Response to Wimbledon starts

  1. Mum Cook. says:

    HAHAHAHA Love it good way to end. Emma is really a scream a one kind of dog but lovable to people she likes. We of course know Freya is a mad scamp but lovable as well. The Avenue of trees are looking beautiful . Love mum xxxx

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