Holy Socks

As you might know, my new 'best friend' is a black Cocker Spaniel called Mr Darcy.  I say Spaniel but looking at his feet I think he has a grizzly bear ancestry.  Talking about pets' names, I know someone  who has a cat called Flap Jack - I like that!

Anyhow back to Mr Darcy, who has suddenly taken a real liking to my socks, which is fine, but not so good when I'm wearing them.  It's no joke when a dogs' teeth are attached to your ankle.  So as a preventative measure, I've taken to wearing high ankle boots at all times.

Well I was coming out of the shower the other day, when the door bell rang. I knew it would be the window cleaner to collect his money so I threw a towel round me, and slipped on the boots.  It was the Avon girl!  (I thought they were meant to go 'ding dong')  That's my reputation in the village up the shute.

Talking about embarrassment, I was playing a doubles match a couple of weeks ago, when I felt a sort of irritation around my upper thigh.  At first I thought my shorts were on back to front - I've 'previous' for that - but no everything was where it should be.  So I spent much of the match scratching my rear quarters (a la Rafael Nadal). It was only in the 3rd set that my partner (female / very attractive) noticed I had a clothes peg attached to my shorts.

I remember Sean Connery once saying that you should never be afraid of making an a . . . of yourself.  Well, I'm getting pretty good at it!

What A Difference A Day Makes

Like many true tennis people, I stayed up till 3 on Tuesday morning, watching Andy Murray winning his first Slam.
It was a long time coming, but it was always coming.  He has immense tennis talent - far too good not to be up there with the greats.  So many people doubted Andy, found fault with his image, criticised his on court behaviour.  But at the end of the day, he did the job and the whole nation should applaud him..
Well done Andy - you did us proud!