More rambles.

I think my washing machine has broken down. It pretends it's washing the clothes. It makes all the right noises so that I'm fooled into believing it's doing it. The lazy ba**ard! When I go back to the machine all the clothes are totally dry. It took me three revisits to realise I wasn't as absent minded as I thought I was! I'm giving it one last chance and then it's down to John Lewis (I wish, more like Currys/Dixons/Comet/Shiteplace). I just hate those kind of shops, but needs must I suppose. Anyway, I'm not giving up, I'm giving that machine which surely must win a prize in acting another chance.

Thanks for all your concern about my chest. It stood up to four hours of tennis yesterday. The first two hours was our match (best of three games) of which Wendy and I lost! Which was a surprise and a disappointment because we played two weak players - well I thought they were weaker than us but I must have been FOOLING myself.

I popped along to club play last night and played a great set of tennis with this guy called Mike who is a fantastic player and his son is a tennis coach at the club. He always gives me lots of tips about my playing. We won our set but we got to a tie break situation which was fun. (for us). He says my footwork is at fault and that I shouldn't run backwards to get a high ball but rather lean into it and volley it. (that was for Bangla Jess really).

During another set, I got hit right in the eye by a tennis ball, really hard. I was terrified I'd blinded myself and had to stop for a bit as my eye was really hurting and watering. It wore off and I continued to play. But as it was the end of the evening I didn't want to wake up blind this morning so I popped round to my sister's (who is a nurse) for her to check that my retina was still intact. She was out but Kevin, my brother in law took a look and laughed at me - 'hahha he said, it's not even swollen, you won't even have a black eye, you big girl's blouse, get on with you'

I've got a theory about my allotment. As I go there nearly every morning during the week all the old men there think I'm putting a lot of work in - which I am. However, nothing much is growing apart from the potatoes and they're coming up in patches. But they all seem to take pity on me and give me stuff! Can't wait until the strawberry and raspberry season kicks in! Yesterday I was given potatoes (to eat, not plant). One man offered me chickens and to make me a run too! He's just been made redundant and I think is looking for money making opportunities. He has his own chickens and the chicken coop/thingy is big and shedlike. I'd love to have chickens but not sure I could visit them every day - well I suppose I'd have to. I'm tempted. Apparently they only lay for about two years, then they live for a bit longer then die! According to him.

A house came on the market yesterday (oh, not another one, I hear you all sigh). Right area, lovely road, prime location, third of an acre south facing garden. One drawback, it's a bungalow. Not just a bungalow, a chalet bungalow. They've put an upstairs in it but the upstairs only has two bedrooms (and two bathrooms). That would be strange to put one of our daughters downstairs. The remaining bedrooms downstairs are smallish. It most certainly doesn't have a 'grand' feel. But it does have a double garage, and LOADS of outside space. It's sandwiched between two lovely Victorian houses that must be worth about a million each. I think I've just answered my own question, thanks. But it was good to get it out there. Here's a picture of the house anyway.