The Spaniel beat up the Scot giving him pause for thought, but in the end, come the final whistle, at the end of the day John, the grizzly Scot won.
I have to say I was slightly impressed by his post- match interview, Murray almost looked human even managing a wee smile or two, but those smiles will vanish like Scotch mist tomorrow, for tomorrow he plays around with Djokovic...

Apparently, according to the commentators, the aforementioned Djokovic was watching the Murray/Ferrar match sitting in bed eating popcorn. Love him already.
I've had nights like that, but my corn didn't pop to the sound of tennis balls, my corn popped to the thud of bigger balls, Footballs. Each his own.

This afternoon will see me as frantic as usual, a little t.v. and a lot of cooking.
For tea, probably served just before 21:00 hrs.... Ricotta and Spinach cannelloni followed by dead easy Dutch Apple flan. Pastry filled with spiced diced apple and sweet yoghurt mix. Baked for 40. That's it.

Coming up...
Cocky Kyle, Radio 4 play, and at 4 ish, Deal or No Deal. Yesterday a lad walked away with pence, but he took the annihilation well.


Now I must fly>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Sublime Humdrum

As a thimbleful of warm rain did its best to ruin my pretty white shoes I defiantly continued to amble along the road without a care in the world.

Sauntering past green Landies and fallen red bicycles, the manicured lawns of the super proud and the gardens of the uninterested I continued to mosey on down the road.

Looking up at a wonderfully marbled sky I thought about poetry and the chicken pie I intended to make, I then thought how life is a delicious heady mix of the humdrum and the sublime.

Today I had both.