Skip to main content

"Right, round the table quickly.." Charl starts with a look of questionable intention....
 Posted by Picasa

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I have just arrived back. The drizzle is exploding into steam on the bonnet of my car and under the hood the engine is creaking and slowly cooling after powering itself and I the two hundred miles from the airport. Things have changed since I left several months ago. I just need a minute to grasp this. Bear with me for I shall return shortly.
Right, well Brucie has been busy. I have done very little over the summer months, as is only right and proper, and as the evenings draw in and late evening beach fires and other such malarkey become a hazy glowing memory, I find myself stirring into action. With everything in this world being relative, one way or another, it can be pointed out that my 'action' could quite well be another man’s twenty year coma but, as I said, everything is relative so my efforts are still to be appreciated.

I have found a bungalow which is a 55 second amble from the Atlantic. This bungalow has a jacuzzi, sauna and pool table. This bungalow is the bomb and very nicely priced. Bruce shall be sharing this domicile with Jack the Dentist and Willem the Woodsman both of whom are immersed in long-term relationships with two lovely ladies. It was this state of affairs that almost caused the first in-house argument before we’d even moved into the house as everybody wanted a double bed. I had viewed the…
There have to be moments throughout life that are far more memorable than others. I had one of these on Saturday. It was raining and I was on the hockey pitch immersed in a competitive game of sticks and ball. Bude were winning and we had just been awarded a free hit on the edge of the ‘D’. Now might be a fine time to meander off into the intricacies of the rules and such but I do not have the mental impetus. This is what happened.

Allan stood over the ball, his stick raised, watching the attackers and defenders run around in circles in front of the goalkeeper and his goal. He was waiting to spy an opening through which he could launch the ball for someone to tap it into the goal. I had sauntered up from the halfway line mumbling to myself about how deplorable it was that nowadays a man could not have a stitch in peace. Just as I reached the 25 yard line Allan turned his knowledgeable head towards me and gave me a look. To many of the players on the pitch such a look would not have be…