The Numbers Are Back

After yesterday’s marathon car session, it’s a relief to be back on the bike this morning.

Lunch is spent in the Brunswick and then later it’s tennis where the court numbers are back and the highly confusing court names have now gone. I have no idea what that was all about but I really can’t see why they couldn’t have had both.

The numbers are even now on the nets as well although I think that might be temporary while they have the junior Nationals on.

Afterwards we retire to the Crown where L meets us.

(Thursday 13^th July)

Everything is wet

Everything is wet this morning. The weather continually teased me on the bike. It drizzled, so I put my jacket on. The sun came out, so I took it off. It drizzled, so I put it back on. Then the sun came out again, so... then it threw it down.Great tennis weather.

In the end, it does fine up for tennis. Although we do end up finishing in near darkness. I take the dogs with us to the pub again as L is at Abs Blast and Fight Klub. Yes, she is doing something that’s mis-spelt.

It takes an age to reach the pub, its traffic hell through the tram works and takes half an hour to get to Beeston. We could have walked it faster, had we not trashed each other on the tennis court.

(Thursday 28^th August)

Seamless Changeover

Not the best of pub lunches today. My colleague insists on the Waterfall which will at least have the cricket on, which turns out to be not much of a bonus considering Australia’s last wicket stand. The Abbot is off (again) and the Doom Bar is off as well, but they didn’t tell you that by turning round the pump clip, you had to taste it to find that out yourself. We send it back and end up on dreaded creamflow. So bad, I consider asking for the gone off Doom Bar back. The food isn’t great either.

After work, L gets home from the gym and we do a seamless changeover with the boys as I head for the tennis court for the first time this year. 

It’s been a battle to get a court and it looks like we’ll only get an hour. We won't be able to overrun because all the courts are showing up as booked for the rest of the evening, at least according to the online booking. I blame that Murray chap. Although this proves not to be the case and there are plenty of free courts, so we do manage to complete my 2-6 3-6 defeat. Clearly it’s just another council ploy to lose money. 

Afterwards my opponent suggests the Victoria at Beeston for a drink, which I’m more than up for. His partner’s lad and his friend are there, drinking beer. Blimey, how did they do that? 

Back home, L has prepared salmon curry but then keeps pinging me suggestive texts that are distracting me from my Lincoln Green Porter. I finish my pint and make my excuses. That curry might have to wait.

 (Thursday 11^th July)